In front of me was a tree stump. Near it, a masked man heaved, and an ax fell.
A crunch. A ball-like head bounced, gathering dirt, leaves, and horse dung, hit the bare roots of an elm tree, slowed, and came to a stop at my feet, while thick liquid gushed like maple syrup. The masked man came over. He grabbed the head’s hair, wiped the dirt on a body lying nearby, and thrust the head onto a spear.
Sourness rushed from my stomach. I staggered back. Again and again, I swallowed, pushing back the bile.
The hand struck my back again. “Move!”
I stumbled sideways. Before me stood a fence of spears that staked severed heads, their eyes round, their mouths contorted, their faces etched in blood and agony.
I bent and vomited.
“Move!”
I could no longer walk.
“Move!”
“Please…no…please…”
“Move now!”
I did not want to die. I did not want to become one of those faces on the stakes. A blow fell on my back, and the ground slammed into my face. I lay there, numb. A strange sensation seized me. I was floating, riding in a roofless carriage that raced in the air. Around me, the sound of horse hooves echoed. Clop, clop, clop. It drove and drove, pushing through dark tunnels, diving into the clouds of smoke, flying through the frozen sheets of rain, and reaching stands of cypresses and stone statues that shed drops of red tears. Love and destiny were two wild horses that could not be curbed…the thought came to me. So there I was. Riding on the back of the horse I chose…
A melodious voice came from somewhere, so smooth, like milk, and so pure, like the summer sky. It tempted me to follow it, like the sound from a distant dream.
“Oh, weep, my child, weep,
let the mist of your eyes flow
over the mountains of sorrow.
Oh, weep, my child, weep,
let the wind of your thoughts blow
passing the empty meadow.
For the clouds are gathering, and the storms are coming, drowning the moon, and tearing the sky of eternity.
Let go the tethers of your heart, knotted, drifting like feathers, and the light of your memories, fading, fleeing with night’s fireflies.
And into the pond, your soul gazes
and shivers,
at fate’s reflection, luminous, inevitable,
like a tear on a shallot.”
Tears poured out of me. I closed my eyes. “No.” I clenched my hands. “No.”
A pair of hands pulled me up, and I stared into Daisy’s teary eyes.
“Mei…” Her clothing was torn, and her hairpin was askew. Around her were other palace women. Their shawls were missing, and their faces were stained with blood and tears.
I sat up. “Daisy. Poor Daisy, are you all right? Are you hurt?”
“Plum… Plum…” Daisy glanced at the tree stump. “She… She.…”
My heart wept.
“Bring the women!” a voice shouted.
A man grabbed my arms. All around me, women wailed, their pitiful cries tightening around me like a noose. Too soon, I was stopped again. Before me were Prince Yo, the Pure Lady, the Emperor’s uncle, and Taizi.
“Get off me.” I shook off the arms and stood. If I was going to die, I would die standing. “Let me ask my last question, Taizi. Where’s Pheasant? Let me see him before I die.”
“Pheasant?” He frowned.
“What did you do to him?”
He did not answer at first. “What are you talking about?” His voice was thick, and he looked larger than ever.
I was no longer afraid. “You know what I mean. He went to talk to you. He found out you kept the weapons. He wanted to talk sense into you. He had faith in you!”
He was quiet. “I didn’t see him.”
“You didn’t?” I was confounded. “You didn’t see him tonight? He didn’t talk to you?”
“That’s what I said.”
Had the rebels killed Pheasant? I could not understand. “He left me before the insurgence started.”
“He’s a man. He knows where it would be safe,” Taizi said.
“Then where is he?”
Taizi spun, his hands on his hips. “Has anyone seen Pheasant?” he shouted at the crowd.
He still cared about him.
“Pheasant is a traitor, like everyone else,” Prince Yo said.
“He’s not a traitor!” I turned to Taizi. “You know he’s not. He loves you. He cares about you. He will not let anyone harm you. Find him! Find him before these people kill him. Before it’s too late.”
Taizi folded his arms across his chest. He frowned. He knew what I had said was true.
“Nonsense,” Prince Yo said. “We have a lot to do. Don’t waste time on Pheasant.”
“You don’t tell me what to do.” Taizi balled his hands.
“You’ll listen to a woman?” Prince Yo spat. “Are you crazy?”
I had not thought of what to say when Taizi lunged at Prince Yo. His hands circled Prince Yo’s neck. “Send men to find Pheasant. It’s my order. Do you hear?”
Prince Yo gurgled, his face red and his feet dangling above the ground. I could hardly breathe. Would Taizi strangle him? I hoped so. If Prince Yo died, the rebellion perhaps would end.
But then without warning, Taizi’s hands left the prince’s throat, and he stumbled back. Slowly, he turned around.