Sharon Shinn - Gateway

Sounded like the average Mardi Gras celebration to Daiyu, and she hid a grin. “I would never do anything so disgraceful, Aunt,” she said.

She had no incentive to do so; she loved the dress Xiang had commissioned for her. It was a slim black sheath that fell from her shoulders to her ankles in the simplest of lines. It was embellished with thousands of pearls sewn on in the shapes of suns and quarter moons, and a border of pearls set off the high round neck and both armholes.

It featured hidden pockets on both sides, but she didn’t need them. She had given away the silver bracelet, of course, and she only bothered to carry the quartz talisman every few days, whenever she remembered. She had lost that edge of paranoia, the conviction that she might suddenly have to escape from Shenglang. She would go home, of course-very soon, right after the festival-but it would be a planned journey, not an abrupt and disorienting departure.

She had not seen Aurora again. At times she wondered if Xiang had dismissed the cangbai woman or if Aurora just had nothing to say to Daiyu. She was sorry if Aurora was angry with her, but she would not have been able to apologize. She supposed it was just as well that the other woman kept her distance.

The day before Daiyu and Xiang left to take up their brief residence at the prime minister’s house, Daiyu had two very different meetings with two very different men.

She was at the aviary, of course, for both. The one with Kalen was short and unsatisfying, for the bird house was too crowded for them to attempt to sneak away to the waterfall. So she sat on one of the freshly scrubbed benches and Kalen stood behind her, holding her parasol.

“How will you celebrate the holiday?” she asked him. She often found herself greedy for the most minute details of his life, and sometimes she asked him questions about wholly insignificant matters.What did you eat for breakfast today? Where did you get that shirt?

“There are usually parties on all the streets in my neighborhood,” he said, and she could hear the grin in his voice. “Plenty to drink, a few fireworks, and lots of pretty girls in very skimpy clothing.”

“Don’t you go telling girls to take off their shirts for you,” she said sternly. “Xiang told me what happens in some parts of town.”

“I’ll behave if you will,” he said. “No showing yourself off to Chenglei and his friends.”

The idea made her laugh. “I will be very proper. Anyhow, the way this dress is made, I’d practically have to be naked if I wanted to show off my chest.”

“I wouldn’t mind that so much,” he said, still smiling, “if I was the one you were showing it off to.”

“Kalen!” But she was laughing. “Am I asking you to strip your clothes off?”

“Well, you might ask,” he suggested, “and see what I do.”

Now she was blushing, though she was still laughing. “This hardly seems the place.”

“Maybe before you go,” he said. “Once you come back from Chenglei’s.”

There was a sweet thought. There was an incentive to disappear from Xiang’s mansion the minute the holiday was over. But… “Somehow I don’t think Aurora and Ombri are going to want me hanging around the house too long once I leave Xiang’s,” she said.

“We won’t have to stay in the house,” he said. “It’s summer, and I know where we can buy a tent. We can pitch it in a vacant lot between a couple of buildings. You can stay as long as you like.”

“Maybe we could borrow some blankets from Aurora and Ombri,” she said. “I don’t mind sleeping on the ground.”

“We’d get our water from the public faucets,” he said. “Make our meals over an open fire. It’s a pretty good life as long as the weather’s nice.”

“And with two of us working the river, we’ll be able to earn money twice as fast,” she said, getting deeper into the spirit of the fantasy. “I can tell a qiji the minute I touch it. Maybe we can make money four times as fast.”

“Maybe we can save enough to buy a house of our own.”

“It doesn’t have to be very big,” she said.

“Just enough room for the two of us.”

“And then one day we’ll decide to have a baby…”

The words conjured up a vision so real, so desirable, that she almost gasped-and then, when she realized it would never come true, she almost whimpered. Kalen had fallen silent; she thought that he, too, was struggling with a sudden sense of powerful loss. She felt his hand brush the back of her neck, a touch of reassurance so light that no one in the aviary would be likely to mark it. It took all her control not to twist around on the bench and reach out for his embrace.

“I’d pick that life, if I was staying in Shenglang,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. “I hope you’ll find someone else who can live it with you.”

“It doesn’t seem likely that I will,” he said quietly.

She didn’t know how to answer. She couldn’t bear the thought that he would be alone the rest of his life-but she hated imagining him sharing her tent, her small house, with some brisk, cheerful cangbai girl. Her only comfort, and it was bitter, was knowing that she would not remember enough of this adventure to be jealous of any girl who might capture Kalen’s heart.

“Well,” she said, “I suppose neither of us can be sure what the rest of our lives will hold.”

“I suppose not,” he said, and she could tell he was attempting to lighten his voice. “I never would have guessed that this part of it would hold you.”

Quan met her at the aviary’s front gate. That last exchange with Kalen had shaken her; it was an effort to summon a smile for Quan. Fortunately, she didn’t have to talk much at first. The instant Daiyu had settled herself on the front seat of his car, he took off down the crowded streets, dodging around trolleys and terrifying unwary passersby. Between the wind and the noise of traffic and the shouts of angry pedestrians, there was no chance to make conversation.

By the time they stopped at a fancy café, she had somewhat recovered her poise, though she had to work at it to present her usual expression of serene good nature. Quan ordered frozen chocolate drinks for both of them, and Daiyu was pretty sure that the ice for these beverages cost more than the ingredients. She should have been appalled at the expense and the casual way Quan covered it, but she was hot, thirsty, and more than a little sad. She took the first few sips and closed her eyes to savor the cool, rich sweetness. Nothing had ever tasted so good.

Quan chatted easily about how he had spent his week and how much he was looking forward to the summer holiday at Chenglei’s. Only a handful of honored guests would spend the holiday at the prime minister’s house, but dozens would be invited for the festivities that night.

“When will you arrive for the celebration?” Daiyu asked.

“A little before night fall. Everyone waits till dark, of course, to set off the fireworks.”

“Xiang is so excited,” Daiyu said. “It’s as if she’s never been on holiday before.”

“Never as an overnight guest,” Quan said. “This is her proudest moment. The fact that Chenglei likes you has done a great deal to boost her social credit. She has already made two business deals that have eluded her for the past year.”

Daiyu was disquieted by the words. What would happen to Xiang’s social credit once Daiyu mysteriously disappeared? Of course Xiang could always say Daiyu had been called back suddenly to her mother’s side, but even so, it would look very strange. And if Xiang herself didn’t know what had become of Daiyu, she would worry. She might think Daiyu had been murdered or kidnapped-she might raise an outcry or contact the authorities-