Chapter 9

 

            I froze, numb with horror.

 

            Stupid, stupid, stupid, my thoughts shouted at me.

 

            My heart sank as my father walked toward me, frowning.

 

            Oh god. Please don’t let him recognize me. Please, I prayed silently to the sky. There was little chance that he wouldn’t realize that I’m not who I pretend to be. After all, Papa had known me for fifteen years.

 

            I tried to steel my nerves, fixing my gaze on my shiny black boots, hoping for a miracle.

 

            “Boy,” I cringed at the sound of his voice. My heart ached. Just days ago we were friends, except for a bit of a quarrel occasionally. Now…now...

 

            “What is your name?”

 

            “T-Tatsu,” My voice squeaked, and I cleared my throat frantically, “Sir.”

 

            He said nothing. Willing myself to not look to Wen-Ling and Chrysanthemum, I exhaled, counting the moments of silence.

 

            My fingers brushed the hilt of the tanto dagger in my belt.

 

            One, two, three, four.

 

            “You know, boy,” Papa continued circling me, “You look a lot like my kidnapped daughter, Mayflower.”

 

            I swallowed. The very same, I thought to myself.

 

            By now, several people were staring at us. I took a glance, scanning the crowd for Wen-Ling and Chrysanthemum.

 

            No…no…There they are!

 

            Wen-Ling and Chrysanthemum were standing over by a flower seller’s stand. Chrysanthemum fingered her dagger. Wen-Ling looked as pale as a sheet of paper.

 

            Papa gestured to the man behind me, the spy, Mr. Dai. Mr. Dai grinned and reached for my throat. For a moment, I thought he was going to try to strangle me. Instead, he grabbed my chin and lifted my head up.

           

I gasped, squeezing my eyes shut. Don’t recognize me. Don’t.

 

Mr. Dai studied me for a moment, looming. And then he withdrew his hand and, grinning, went to whisper something in Papa’s ear.

 

I stole another glance at Wen-Ling and Chrysanthemum.

 

“Ah,” Papa said drily, catching the way I cast my glance, “Are those your friends? Well, well. Let us meet them.”

 

“But first,” he fixed his gleaming black eyes on me, “Let down your hair, boy.”

 

He had requested that I let down my hair.

 

“But sir!” I was scarcely able to disguise the panic in my voice.

 

“Please,” Papa smiled cruelly, “I insist.”

 

I threw a horrified glance at Chrysanthemum. If I let my hair down…I didn’t know what would happen…

 

“Go on. It’s just a metal clip. Hurry up, we haven’t got all day.”

 

I gulped. Slowly, slowly, as slow as I could manage, my fingers reached toward my hair.

 

Papa’s eyes were fixed on me intently. My fingers found its way to the hairclip…

 

“Lord Hsia! Lord Hsia!” shouted a messenger on a magnificent horse, diverting my father’s attention, “The new Emperor wants you at the palace! The old Emperor is dead! His Imperial Majesty was found today in the cherry tree garden, murdered.”

 

My jaw dropped. What? The Emperor, dead? But how? Tears started rolling into my eyes. The Emperor may have a part in my forced betrothal, but he was kind and fatherly, the kindest man I’ve ever met, and I grieved for him. 

 

A strange sort of smile appeared on Papa’s face. “So the weakling’s finally done it,” I heard him whisper under his breath.

 

Then, aloud, he said to Mr. Dai, “Bring my horse.” Mr. Dai handed the reins of my father’s horse to him obediently.

 

“Out of my way, boy,” He spat at me, “I have more important matters than slow, country boys to take care of. The Emperor was murdered!”

 

He brandished his horsewhip, and just like that, he was gone.

 

I stared at the dust floating above the road from the galloping of Papa’s horse, grief and relief welling up inside me, and I didn’t know which I first did, sigh of relief or let the tears slip from my eyes.

 

“The weakling’s finally done it,” my father had said.  He knew. He knew that the Emperor would be murdered and he didn’t put in one ounce of strength to stop the assassination.

 

Who is this cold-blooded, unfeeling, murderer with a heart of stone in place of my loving father? Why? Why had he done all this? What had the Emperor done to deserve this?

 

In a flash, Chrysanthemum was by my side and her hand was on my shoulder.

 

“Don’t cry, Tatsu,” She soothed gently, “Don’t cry. The council will find out who did it and they’ll bring him to justice.”

 

No. No they won’t. This time they won’t.

 

“You don’t understand, Chrysanthemum,” Tears flowed, swimming down my cheeks and filling my eyes again and again as I turned to face Chrysanthemum, “Pa"Lord Hsia"knew. He knew and I suspect he had a hand in it,” my voice shook, “He is a part of the council. He will do everything he can to conceal the murderer and himself. And from what I’ve seen, he is capable of anything.”

 

“So it seems like,” Wen-Ling murmured, her face ashen, walking over to us, “Let us go. This is not the place to talk.”

 

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            I scarcely knew how I got there, but before I knew it, we were there, at Wen-Ling’s friend’s.

 

            “Aiko? Aiko!” Wen-Ling knocked on the door.

 

            “Who is it?” A shrill voice sounded from the other side of the door.

 

            “It’s me. Wen-Ling, your old friend!”

 

            The door opened just a crack and a woman at least ten years older than Wen-Ling stuck her head out, searching us with her brown eyes.

 

            “Wen-Ling! Long time no see,” she opened the door the whole way, “And who are these young people?”

 

            “That’s Chrysanthemum, my cousin, and this is our friend, Mayflower Hsia.”

 

            “My, my!” the woman, or rather, Aiko, looked surprised, “Are you telling me that these two are both girls?”

 

            I exchanged a glance with Chrysanthemum. Grinning, we both took the metal hairclips out of our hair in unison. Our hair tumbled down our backs and blew in the wind.

           

“Oh…come in, come in,” Aiko looked shortly stunned, and then she let us in.

 

“I’m sorry about the mess of things,” she hurried to free a few wooden chairs from the books that were stacked on top of them, “You see, my son just came back from school. We’ve been trying to unpack everything,” She brushed the papers from the tabletops and offered the chairs to us, “So. What brings you here?”

 

“Aiko, the pearls are in danger,” Wen-Ling whispered urgently.

 

Aiko’s eyes widened.

 

“My father,” I started haltingly, “He wants it…for his own purposes…”

 

“But can he find it?”

 

“He has a man to spy for him. I think he knows it’s in this town,” Chrysanthemum put in, “We met him earlier today.”

 

“I must go pack my bags,” Aiko muttered, standing up, “Tomorrow, I’ll take you to visit my brother and we can talk there. This place still isn’t safe enough. I’ve had random bursts of soldiers for these past few days. Besides,” she paused, looked around and whispered, “The walls have ears. You never know who’s behind the windows.”

 

I looked down at my boots. “Sorry. I think it’s because they’re trying to chase us down. And because my father needs to find the pearl.”

 

“None of us know who the guardian is,” Aiko told us, “But we’ve all seen it. It was a shadow that looked sort of like a woman. We call her ‘The Lady in Gray’, but none of us is sure if it’s a woman or not. None of us really knows the pearl’s whereabouts either. It’s been lost for decades, but we’ll try to help you as much as we can.”

 

“Thank you,” Wen-Ling smiled.

 

“Now,” Aiko muttered, “I’m going to pack. You may do whatever you wish. If you’d like some tea the kettle is over there and there are some tealeaves in the cabinets.”

Wen-Ling bustled over to the kettle and the stove.

 

Chrysanthemum and I stared at each other for a moment.

 

“Let’s go outside,” she said, standing up.

 

“Okay. There’s nothing to do inside anyways,” I followed her towards the door.

 

And then, just as she was about to reach for the door, it slid open and…

 

Thwack!

Author's Note

Yes! A miracle! I finished another chapter!!!!!

Reviews

[rae52]

wow i love it
there's a lot of thwaking going on