Authors: Cindy. Pon
Silver Phoenix (41 page)
The city would soon swarm back to life.
Chen Yong turned to her as the second gong rang, the powerful sound filling her with panic. She did not speak, but instead hurried toward the flying chariots. The Anatomist’s breath came in short gasps; his heart fluttered and skipped beats. She led Chen Yong upward, to a small landing notched in the side of a hill.
Three chariots, open sedans with huge silver wheels, sat on the smooth dirt. One was painted a deep eggplant and carved into the image of a bird, golden wings tucked to its 231
Cindy Pon
sides. One bore the resemblance of a mouse, gleaming silver in the sunlight. The final chariot was hewn in the image of a dragon, rendered in azure and sea green—so like the sea dragon that had carried them to the mountain of the Immortals. This chariot was the Anatomist’s personal favorite. It had the reputation for traveling the fastest.
“The dragon,” she said, and felt the Anatomist shriek and rattle against her in rage. A third gong reverberated across the hillside.
“Now you have a taste of what it feels like to be enslaved,”
she said aloud to his struggling spirit.
“What?” Chen Yong asked.
“Climb in, hurry!” She flung their knapsacks onto the chariot floor, then grimaced, remembering what she carried in her own. The image of Li Rong’s heart tumbling forth and unraveling from its cocoon flitted through her mind, seeped into the Anatomist’s. He mewed in terror.
Chen Yong opened a door on the side of the dragon and carefully placed her on the bench.
“How does this thing work?” He looked around with a puzzled expression.
“We wait for a good breeze and push the chariot over the ledge,” she replied.
“Are you mad?”
“It does fly. I’ll push, then leave his body.” She had to shout over the reverberations of the fourth gong. It had better fl y.
232
S I LV E R P H O E N I X
Chen Yong’s surprise turned to worry. “Are you sure you can do this?”
“I’ve done it so far, haven’t I?” she said, more bluntly than she intended.
She limped to the rear of the chariot and started to push with all the strength of the one arm. The chariot was heavy for the Anatomist’s slight frame, and he could not run fast with the bad leg, but the large wheels sped up quickly, and very soon she was struggling to keep up.
The contraption raced off the edge of the landing and hovered for one frightening heartbeat. Ai Ling whispered a prayer, seeking aid from the Goddess of Mercy. And then a small breeze caught it and the chariot began to drift. The sound of the fi fth gong echoed through the valley.
Chen Yong crouched over her body, a hand on her shoulder as if to keep her steady in the slightly rocking chariot.
But his eyes were locked on the Anatomist. She needed to return to her body. A breeze swept through the valley and buffeted the chariot higher, out over a grove of strange fruit trees.
A thick arm snaked around the Anatomist’s neck, dragging him back. “Taking a trip? It is not authorized by the Chief.”
Ai Ling choked. The Anatomist choked. She wasn’t sure anymore. She released her hold on his being, cast herself out, and pulled along the invisible cord, riding a gentle zephyr toward the chariot.
There was a jarring snap, this time so violent she gasped.
233
Cindy Pon
She gulped in short breaths. The world was dimmer, the colors dulled. But this sight was her own, this mind and this body her own.
“Ai Ling?” Chen Yong leaned over her, the sun catching the dark auburn of his hair. “Drink some water.” He cradled her head and lifted the flask to her mouth and cool spring water splashed on her lips and chin.
“I just need to catch my breath. . . .” Before she could finish, she lunged to the side of the chariot and retched over the edge. She collapsed against the chariot door, her arms draped over the side. Her head spun, and she forced her eyes shut.
The shrill screams of the Anatomist drifted to her on the wind. She opened her eyes to see him slumped against the bulk of Sentry Amber, jabbing a weak finger in their direction, his fury obvious even as the two figures dwindled to pinpricks.
“Will they follow us?” Chen Yong asked.
She shook her head, then immediately regretted it as the world tilted again. “We took the fastest chariot.”
Chen Yong knelt by her, wrapping an arm around her shaking shoulders. “Lie down. You need to rest.”
About twice the length of an individual sedan and oblong in shape, the uncovered chariot held a wide bench at one end lined with plump cushions.
She let herself be led there and laid her head down on a cushion. It smelled of strange and pungent herbs, but she 234
S I LV E R P H O E N I X
didn’t find it unpleasant. Chen Yong arranged the other cushions and draped a blanket over her. She smiled weakly, but he did not see it.
“The valley has disappeared already,” he said.
“You steer with your destination in mind,” Ai Ling muttered. “That’s how it works.” She shut her eyes and fell into an exhausted sleep.
235
Ai Ling woke to find Chen Yong steering the pivot as if he’d done it many times before. She pulled herself into a sitting position and stretched. Her stomach churned, but her head did not spin like before.
The chariot flew gently above misty peaks. The scenery rushed past them at an unnatural speed—so fast that she could not look for long, even though the chariot itself did not seem to be racing, merely gliding on a soft breeze.
“Before I met you, I would not have thought steering a chariot with my mind possible. But now I think, what do I know?” Chen Yong turned and managed a wan, tired smile. “Are you feeling better? I don’t know how long 236
S I LV E R P H O E N I X
you slept, but it seemed a long time.”
He sat down next to her and pulled something from his knapsack. “Let’s eat. We need strength.”
Her stomach grumbled. What she would not give for a large bowl of broth with hand-pulled noodles or steamed dumplings or cabbage and braised pork meatballs. . . .
Chen Yong handed her two biscuits and strips of dried squid. She gnawed on the squid, savoring the flavor. She wolfed down the biscuits, despite their stale blandness.
“If only we had some tea.” They spoke at the same time.
Their eyes met in surprise, and they laughed.
“It’s good to see you eat. I’d be worried if you ever lost your appetite,” he said, dusting his hands of crumbs.
“Why do I feel like I should take offense to that?” Ai Ling laughed at the uncertain expression that flitted across his handsome features. She rummaged through her own knapsack, careful to keep her face composed, and pulled out an apple. Chen Yong sliced it with a small knife. But she was no longer hungry, and he ate the crisp fruit alone.
“I’ve been thinking of nothing but the Palace while you slept,” Chen Yong said.
“The Palace.” Would she have enough strength to defeat Zhong Ye and save her father?
“It was the destination in my mind as I steered,” he said, scanning the horizon.
The light faded fast, as if the day fled from them. The night deepened and a full moon rose. They discovered the 237
Cindy Pon
chariot had a strong light in the front, illuminating their way. Ai Ling leaned over to investigate and discovered two round orbs embedded in the woodwork, forming the dragon’s eyes. She touched one eye with cautious fingertips. It was neither cool nor hot.