Vaerana craned her neck to look up at Minister Hsieh, then swore as the movement jerked the needle from his hands. “Don’t you give me any Shou double-talk! You’re only trying to worry me.”
“Vaerana, what he says sounds very true. Why are you being so stubborn?”
No sooner had the witch asked the question than she realized the answer. The Lady Constable felt responsible for Yanseldara’s condition—she had told Ruha as much shortly after their first meeting. On some level, at least, Vaerana wanted to redeem herself by becoming the Lady Lord’s rescuer.
Vaerana glowered at both Hsieh and Ruha for a moment, then folded her arms across her chest. “I’m not being stubborn.” She leaned back to let Hsieh finish stitching her scalp shut. “I’m being careful.”
“Yes, it is good to be careful.” Ruha nodded thoughtfully, then stepped over to Yanseldara’s bed. “She does look very weak, does she not, Minister?”
“It does not matter. Danger is from choking on potion. Even weak bond can carry message between body and spirit.”
“But Yanseldara needs extra strength to battle Cypress, does she not?” Ruha allowed her eyes to pivot toward Vaerana, then raised the potion in her hand. “Or did I misunderstand you when you gave me this?”
If Hsieh perceived Ruha’s intentions, his face showed no sign of it. He frowned slightly, then said, “I think you do misunderstand, Lady Ruha. I say not to worry about Cypress, because we give Lady Yanseldara strength.”
Ruha breathed a silent sigh of relief. “Yes, that is right. I had forgotten.”
“What are you two talking about?” Though Hsieh had stopped sewing, Vaerana remained surprisingly still. “Is there some way to make this safe?”
“More safe,” Hsieh said. “But small risk always remains.”
Ruha saw the interest fading from Vaerana’s eyes.
“The greatest risk, of course, would be to you,” Ruha added quickly. “If Cypress caught on—”
“I don’t care about the risk to me!” Vaerana twisted around to look at Hsieh, who deftly released the needle to keep from tearing her wound. “What will it mean to Yanseldara?”
“She draws strength from your spirit,” Hsieh said, expounding on Ruha’s fabrication. “Much better for her.”
“If there is trouble, you are certain to perish,” Ruha added, trying to make the ruse look as dangerous as possible. “Will you take the chance?”
Vaerana did not even hesitate. “Of course!”
Ruha handed the message potion to Hsieh. “If you will see to matters here, I must leave immediately.”
“Leave?” Vaerana asked. “Where are you going?”
“To Hillshadow Lake, of course,” Ruha answered. “When Lady Feng smashes Cypress’s spirit gem, I suspect Pierstar will have need of my magic.”
Hsieh produced the last of the lasal from his pocket. “Perhaps you need these.” He gave Ruha several of the slender leaves, but saved three for Vaerana. “Now, Lady Constable, please to chew and prepare yourself.”
* * * **
The water tickled Tang’s toes, and he knew it was rising.
The prince lay beside his resting mother, his bare feet dangling over the edge of a sloping limestone ledge. The ceiling hung so low above his back that he could not rise to his knees, and the wall ahead stood so close to his face that each stale breath curled back into his eyes. Yanseldara’s staff lay at his side, and the ghostly head of General Fui hovered an arm’s length away. The only sound that broke the cramped silence was the erratic gasping of the Third Virtuous Concubine.
After pumping the fluid from Lady Feng’s lungs, Tang had collapsed beside her and listened to the drops trickling off his feet into the dark pool from which they had come. The steady splashing had ceased not long ago, and now he felt a cool tide creeping up his toes. The water was definitely rising, no doubt because Cypress had blocked the cavern’s only outflow.
Tang rolled onto his back, then picked up Yanseldara’s staff and held the glowing pommel over the pool. An alligator could hardly have squeezed between the surface of the black waters and ceiling. While lying on his back, it was difficult for the prince to see into all the shadowy corners of the cramped vault, but he discerned no hint of an exit above water.
As though to confirm what Tang already feared, General Fui drifted to the middle of the dark pool, then settled beneath the water and stopped to wait.
Lady Feng stirred and rolled onto her back. “What is happening, Brave Prince?”
“The water rises. We must go.”
Lady Feng grimaced and shook her head. “We lose our way.”
Tang lowered Yanseldara’s staff toward the ghostly head waiting in the dark pool. “General Fui guides—”
“Lady Feng?” The staff’s glowing spirit gem dimmed slightly as a dulcet voice filled the cramped vault. “Do you hear me?”
The words were Shou, but Tang, who had met Elversult’s Lady Lord on several ceremonial occasions, recognized the voice as Yanseldara’s. “Who is this?” he demanded. “You are not Lady Lord!”
“Nor are you, but I hear you in Lady Yanseldara’s voice. Are you Third Virtuous Concubine?”
Tang looked to his mother, who appeared only slightly less puzzled than he. She shook her head to indicate she did not wish to speak, then motioned for him to continue.
“This is Prince Kao Chou Tang.”
“I am most pleased to hear your voice, Young Prince,” came the reply. “When I give you leave to fetch Third Virtuous Concubine, I do not expect you to be gone so long.”
“Minister Hsieh!” Only the cramped quarters kept Tang from kowtowing to the spirit gem. “Please to—”
“We discuss your disobedience soon enough,” the mandarin replied. “I presume you find Yanseldara’s staff, or we could not speak. Do you also find Sagacious Mother?”
Before Tang answered, a terrible thought occurred to him. “Esteemed Minister, Cypress shares gem with Yanseldara. Perhaps he hears us!”
There was a short silence; then Hsieh said, “It does not matter. Witch has almost destroyed him.”
This drew a smile from Lady Feng, who said, “I am here.”
“Good. I bear greetings and message from Most High Emperor, but first—”
A sudden burst of darkness flared inside the spirit gem. “Tang! You are alive!” rumbled Cypress’s deep voice. “Well, no matter. I am not so hurt as those fools imagine.”
Tang was so startled that he let the staff slip from his hands, then barely caught it before it rolled down the sloping shelf into the dark water. Once again, the great topaz in the pommel glowed with the steady, brilliant scarlet light that it had assumed when the two spirits inside it united—though the prince fancied that he could now see glimmers of silver and black whirling deep within the gem.
“Minister Hsieh?”
Tang’s only answer was a faint purl as the dark waters seeped onto the ledge where he and his mother lay.
* * * **
Cypress lay at the bottom of Hillshadow Lake. Save for the golden ball still burning at the end of his sinuous neck, he was a huge black shape barely visible through the curtains of steam rising off the green waters. He hardly moved, and he made no sound; if not for his black tail occasionally rising to the surface, Ruha would not have known whether he still abided in his dark body.
“How long will your fire keep burning, Lady Runa?” Pierstar gestured vaguely toward the halo of yellow, boiling waters in the center of the lake. “We’ve been waiting for it to die out since he went under!”
“The spell draws its fire from the sun.” The witch could hardly bear to take her eyes off Cypress. It would not be long before Lady Feng smashed his spirit gem, and then Ruha would truly earn the right to be called a Harper. “The magic will fade when the sun sets—or when I cancel the spell.”