A series of long, narrow windows were on one wall, but they were so slender, it was hardly worth looking out of them. When she looked, she'd seen a sliver of the walking path beyond, but that was it. Most likely, they were constructed for the outside light they offered more than for showing a view.

  Until her presents started to arrive, Jin's living area had been nearly empty. Now it was packed full of her gifts. They had trickled out of the bedchamber into his sitting room. She'd left the door between the rooms open so she could see all her presents easily from the bed. They formed a curving path over the floor, so she could weave among them.

  One common theme ran through the presents—the phoenix. Some were carved on pots, others were sculpted, one transparent phoenix hung from a potted tree and one was carved into the tree's bark, scarring the plant with the design. Staring at a silk painting of one bright depiction, she took a moment to appreciate the beauty of the creature. In all her desire to steal the Jade Phoenix, she never really looked at the bird it represented. Was this a real creature? She'd never seen anything like it. The bird was beautiful, so bright and vibrant with colors, with long feathers especially at the tail. Its head was small with a short beak and it had an oblong body with long, thin legs.

  The animal was undoubtedly an object of great celebration to the Líntianese people because it was incorporated into everything, almost as much as the dragon was. Regardless of what it meant, it didn't change anything. Francesca was sorry she was going to have to leave all the gifts behind when she left, but she'd come to Líntian for revenge and she would not forget her promise to steal the Jade Phoenix.

  The gaze of the frozen birds stared at her, almost condemning in their silent disapproval of what she was doing, what she would do. Francesca closed her eyes.

  The Zhang family had taken her in after her little scene in the hall. It was almost too easy and she couldn't help but think of them as trusting fools. Even if the empress didn't believe she loved Jin, she acted as though it were possible.

  However, her assessment of the royal family wouldn't make her lower her guard. She knew she was being watched, listened to. Every word had to be carefully planned, every look, every sigh, every blink of the eye had to paint the picture of the hurt lover. Only Jin would know that truth, but after his actions in the hall, his family would be wary of his reasoning. Such an outburst would have to be an embarrassment to them.

  Where was Jin at anyway? Did he have to stay in the prisons? Outside?

  And why in the galaxies do I care?

  "Francesca?” Fen's voice called. The woman tapped lightly on the door.

  Francesca looked at the entryway as it slid open. She sat up on the bed, pushing her hair back from her face. The locks fell in long, curly waves over her shoulders. For some reason, Jin's decontaminator tended to make her hair curlier than usual. She didn't mind it, only it was harder to manage.

  "I have come to see if you are better,” Fen said, closing the door behind her as she entered the room. The princess looked around at the gifts. “I see you are already being welcomed by the people."

  "The people sent all of this?” Francesca asked, surprised. “But, I thought...."

  Fen paused and waited, smiling expectantly for her to continue.

  "I thought your family had sent them,” she finished weakly.

  Fen shook her head, “No. Family presents will come later. These are from the noble households, welcoming you into the royal family. They wish to show their support of Jin's choice in a bride."

  The households? She'd thought them bribes from the royal family to tempt her into their lifestyle.

  "But, didn't Jin un-choose me?” Francesca asked, purposefully lowering her eyes. Right after the words were out, she wanted to punch herself in the head. She could not care what Jin thought of her. She couldn't! Her stomach tensed at the thought and she suddenly felt bad.

  It's not like I actually care. Do I?

  Blessed Stars! No. I don't care about him!

  I don't. I don't. I don't....

  "I wasn't going to mention that,” Fen said, “but since you brought it up, I can tell you that many of the people were moved by your heartache, especially the young women. They are very supportive of you."

  "Even if he does not support his choice?” Francesca asked, doing her best to keep the disbelief out of her tone. The Líntianese people actually supported her? Her inner voice laughed in response. The sound was mocking and she refused to acknowledge it.

  "I wish I knew what Jin was thinking, but I do not. I can only say that I am sorry for your pain. It is clear to us that you have had a hard life, one that has forced you into thievery, but you are here now in your new home. And fate has brought you to us for a reason."

  Yes, perhaps fate had brought her, but Francesca knew it wasn't for the reason Fen suspected. Regardless, Francesca was astonished by the woman's show of blind faith. Goodness radiated off of her, shining brilliantly out of her kind eyes. The woman trusted fate, trusted those things that she couldn't see. She had beliefs that Francesca couldn't begin to understand.

  Francesca had always believed in herself, in what she saw, touched, stole. Her life was in her hands, as was her future. If she was captured, it wasn't because fate intervened but because she'd failed, because she wasn't good enough.

  "You believe in fate, don't you? I mean, really believe.” Francesca stared at her, wishing she could share some sort of conviction. But the truth was, she'd seen too much of the darker side of life to believe in Faerian tales.

  "Yes, of course,” Fen answered. “We all do. Without fate, where would we be?"

  "How do you know what fate wants? How can you be sure that's why I'm here?"

  "The spirits of our ancestors guide us to see it,” Fen said thoughtfully. “There are signs as well, you just have to know how to look."

  So that is why they just accepted her presence as easily as they did. Francesca bit her lip. She'd wondered at the almost lax way they let her into their lives. For a thief, she had really been treated rather well—almost too well. Not that she could really complain about being treated nicely, but it was odd.

  Poor trusting fools.

  "Oh, this is lovely,” Fen exclaimed, lifting a red silk gown with golden flowers interwoven with long dragons. “It must be from Lady Hsin. Her family produces some of the finest silks in the entire planet. They brought the worms with them when our kind migrated from Earth. The breed she uses is still from that original bloodline."

  "Worms make this?” Francesca asked, touching the silk on the bed. She wasn't sure whether to be grossed out or not.

  "Yes.” Fen nodded, smiling brightly as she fingered the silk. “It's actually quite interesting. The baby worms only eat mulberry. It's a plant bush Lady Hsin's ancestors brought with the worms. You feed it to them in large amounts as they grow. The more they eat, the more silk they produce. She has many workers feeding the silkworms and even more tending the mulberry. Her farm is one of the largest in Muntong."

  "And you string the little worms together to make material?” Francesca asked. The one-eyed sea creature buffet popped into her head.

  "No, they grow and form a transformation cocoon around themselves. When they emerge as the ‘flying silk', the silk material itself is collected from the remaining cocoon. The substance taken from the silk threads is used in our hair rinses and some other products.” Fen lifted her smooth, shiny locks, letting it fall slowly from her fingers to show how pretty it was. “The silk is then spun into a lightweight yarn, processed, and eventually made into what you see here. After the flying silk comes from the cocoon, they are taken to a garden where they mate, lay eggs and live out their short lives. Those eggs are hatched and the process starts all over again."

  Francesca didn't say a word. She wasn't sure what she could say. Normal, everyday conversation really was beyond her realm of expertise. She could make small talk in a bar, but there was nothing friendly about it. Or, she could spar with words, avoid a conversation, use a conversation to get the information she needed out of someone. Only, she didn't need anything from Fen and, from what she could tell, Fen didn't need anything from her. What was the woman doing there anyway—talking of silk and worms and making thread? Undoubtedly, it was interesting, but ... why?

  It was almost as if the woman was trying to be her friend.

  "If you like, after the wedding, I can arrange a trip to Lady Hsin's, if you would like to see.” Fen set the silk gown down, her expression full of hope. “Mei often would take trips with me, but now that she is gone, I have no one to keep me company."

  "There isn't going to be a wedding, Fen,” Francesca answered honestly. What else could she do? The woman was comparing her to a sister. It made her uncomfortable and it just felt plain wrong.

  "Oh, no, shhh.” Fen shook her head, coming forward to place her hand on Francesca's shoulder. “Don't think like that. Jin is a man and they are moody creatures. Leave him to his own troubles and he will come around. In the meantime, stay here, relax, do what you must to prepare for the wedding celebration. When the time is right, he will come begging your forgiveness and all will be well."

  Again she couldn't help but note how Fen talked of life as if it were a Faerian children's tale—so perfect and neat with a happy ending. The princess was an idealist that was for sure. Francesca didn't want to argue with an idealist and found herself not wanting to ruin Fen's picture of a happy life. So many things in the universes were dark and ugly, why take away such a picture of good?

  "What's with all the phoenixes?” Francesca asked, changing the subject.

  Fen's smile brightened even more and she sat on the bed, running her fingers through Francesca's hair to smooth the messy curls. “The phoenix is from Earth as well. As you can tell, many of our customs have come from the old ways. I always tell Jin that we Líntianese don't like to let a perfectly good tradition, or symbol, go to waste—jokingly of course. But we do tend to decorate everything with the same pattern over and over again, if you haven't noticed. I tried to get the emperor to let me redesign the gardens, but he says they're fine as they are."

  Francesca didn't say a word.

  "But I digress. The phoenix was an ancient bird, though none I know of have survived. I think they died out before our ancestors even conceived they would leave the planet."

  "That's too bad,” Francesca answered.

  Fen nodded. “Yes, but the virtues they represent still hold true."

  "And what are those?” It was strange being touched in friendship, but she didn't stop Fen from combing her long hair. The personal contact felt nice. She'd never had a sister before and had barely had female friends. Even then it had been at the monastery and she could barely remember the girls’ names as it had been so long ago.

  "The virtues of courage, valor,” Fen said. “But also chastity. It is doing what is right and not doing what is wrong. It's making good decisions, living a good life. The phoenix also symbolizes rare talents, or sometimes matrimonial happiness and peace."

  Francesca hummed softly to indicate she listened. “Mm-hmm."

  "I see a lot of the phoenix in you. I think that is why you are drawn to take it,” Fen said. “You are the phoenix—brave and strong, a fighter, and yet you long for marriage with my brother. You are rare, Francesca, rare to my people because of your differences, rare because you know Wushu when the art is said to be dead. I do wish you'd tell me how you learned, for I am very curious...."

  Ah-ha! There it is. She does want something from me. Her family sent her to get the information from me. Very sneaky.

  "I hesitate to say that for fear you think that's why I'm here. I assure you it's not. I don't care if you never tell me, so long as you allow us to be friends."

  That was too much. Francesca quickly stood. “I'm hardly a phoenix, Fen. I'm just a woman in an awkward position."

  What was it about Fen that made her want to be the woman's friend? She couldn't make friends with the woman. To do so would make leaving so much harder than it already was. Why did these people have to be so nice?

  "If it helps, our people celebrate the phoenix. You will be forgiven, if you seek to be.” Fen smiled and walked to the door. “Forgiveness is a virtue as well, Francesca. Our people know that."

  "Our people?” Francesca said, before she could stop herself.

  "Yes, you are one of us now. We accepted you into our family. When the ceremony is done, it will be official. You will be Líntianese. We will be your family."

  Francesca couldn't move. As a child, all she wanted was a family and here one was being offered to her. But as an adult, she didn't care about such things, did she?

  What seduces you, sweet Francesca? What is it you desire most?

  A family.

  "By the way, Jin is also Líntianese.” Fen grinned. “He too enjoys celebrating the phoenix."

  Francesca frowned. Did Fen just try to tell her that Jin wanted to celebrate her? Whatever did that mean? The woman left her alone, shutting the door behind her.

  Francesca fell back on the bed, her arms spread. “That decides it. These people are crazy—every last one of them."

  Only crazy people would welcome me into their home.

  * * * *

  "Zhang Jin! What have you done?"

  Jin blinked, looking up from his solitary hideout, where he sat leaning against the Hall for Worshiping Ancestors. He wasn't surprised to see his grandfather Manchu standing before him. Glaring at the spirit for a short time, he blinked once and looked away. His lips pressed tightly together and he refused to answer.

  "Zhang Jin!” Zhang Manchu insisted.

  Jin again looked up at the transparent figure, his eyes hard. He blamed the ancestor for his problems with Francesca. The woman was a foreigner. She didn't understand or appreciate his culture or his life. All she cared about was taking. How could his grandfather have done this to him?

  "Fine, do not speak to me, but listen,” the old spirit said. “If you lose her, you lose your heart."

  Jin narrowed his eyes. “Who are you to tell me my fate with such certainty? What do you know or care about my heart? It is your fault I'm in the state I'm in."

  "You will watch your insolent tongue.” His grandfather's form shimmered in anger. “And you will show me respect."

  Jin snorted. Reaching behind his back, he grabbed a cylinder of pò bai and unscrewed the metal top. He was well on his way to a drunken stupor and wasn't about to let the old man disrupt that. The plan was to keep drinking until he passed out.

  "You must make amends with her,” his grandfather insisted.

  "What do you care? It is my life we're talking about here. Perhaps I am not looking for a wife or marital love.” Jin snorted again before taking a quick drink. The thick brown liquor burned its way down his throat, but he didn't care. He welcomed the numbness it would bring. “I have been satisfied without them so far."

  "That may very well be, but she is for you. It is time.” He turned in a circle. "Nî bù dông ma? Don't you understand? It is time. I don't speak only of marital love, but your love of your people and country. You will do what you must, Zhang Jin. You will do your duty."

  "Time to do what, old man? You speak in riddles.” Jin snarled, lifting the cylinder to his lips. “I have no time for riddles. Take them and be gone. I want no more of this conversation. I want no more of you."

  Zhang Manchu blew forward on a gust of wind. It hit Jin hard, throwing him back against the stone building as it whipped his hair into his face. He dropped the cylinder on impact. When he came to his senses, his grandfather had the liquor in his hand and the cylinder was as transparent as he was. Jin would not be getting it back.

  Frowning, Jin tried to push to his feet. Manchu called the wind, blowing in warning. Jin fell back to the ground. Crossing his arms like a pouting child, he stared up at the sky, refusing to move.

  "Leave me be,” Jin protested. “She does not want me. I do not want her. Only you seem to want this marriage."

  "You must marry her, Jin,” his grandfather said quietly, leaning over him.

  "Let me guess, by six moons? Was it you who told the astrologers that this was my fate?"

  "I did."

  "In six moons?” Jin laughed. It felt as if the ground spun under his back. His head swam, but he was too far gone to care. “Six moons?! Weddings are not planned in so short a time. Why so soon? If you want this marriage, why push so hard? If fate truly favored our being together, it would have happened. No, fate wants no part of this. This is your doing, Grandfather, yours alone. You want this match. You are bored and you have nothing better to do. I know not what offense I've committed against you. Perhaps I brought the wrong wine. Or gave too much to another ancestor in offering and made you jealous. Regardless of what I did, I will not play your game any longer. It's over, lâotou. There will be no wedding in six moons. There will be no wedding in a million of them. I have ended it. It is done."

  "You are drunk,” his grandfather spat.

  "Yes, and I'd be unconscious by now if you'd kindly hand me the pò bai.” Jin lifted his hand, waiting for the liquor to be handed back and knowing all along that it wouldn't be.

  "If you do not marry our way of life will end. The Zhang Dynasty will end. Do you not understand? It is time. A sacrifice must be made. One of our own must marry. You Jin. You are the one. And it must happen quickly."

  Jin blinked, his mind slowed by liquor. “What do you mean? Tell me what is happening or I swear on twenty generations of you dead, meddling ancestors that I will never marry—anyone."

  Manchu sighed, closing his eyes. Jin saw movement in the background and lifted his head. He blinked heavily, trying to focus his blurry vision as he caught glimpses of more spirits, some he didn't recognize, more than he'd ever seen gathered before him in his life. Some were clearly ancestors by the dragons on their clothing, others merely spirits. It was common understanding that the dead stayed on, living in the in-between, gaining knowledge and guiding the future generations before moving on to the next plane.

 

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