Page 29 of Song of the Crimson Flower

Wren handed him a flask of water, which he gulped gratefully. “This witch cursed you because she was jealous of your father choosing your mother over her? Punishing their son doesn’t seem right to me.”

“It’s not right,” he agreed, handing the flask back with his thanks. He pictured again the woman in the vision: bright eyes, broad cheekbones,and a smile like the sun. He could easily imagine anyone choosing her over the sullen river witch. “She didn’t think my mother could break the spell, either. She seemed to imply that my mother had never truly loved anyone.”

“I wonder who your mother is. There aren’t many with magical blood in Feng Lu,” Wren said thoughtfully, and Bao averted his eyes. “And those visions of yours. Xifeng used to use black spice to foresee the future. I wonder if having magical blood makes you more sensitive to seeing things.”

Bao frowned. “I don’t have magic.”

Lan, who had been listening from Wren’s other side, spoke up. “She said magicalblood, not magic. Perhaps you can carry the blood without having any powers.”

“I know a woman in Dagovad who claims to be a witch,” Wren said. “She ferments snakes in jars of alcohol and sells the liquid as a health tonic, which some villagers say have given them night vision or the ability to find lost things. One man claimed to be able to see the future for a short time. Perhaps your enchantment has given you the ability to have visions.”

“Maybe.” Bao turned his attention to the grasslands around them, pretending to admire the swaying yellow-green grass beneath the brightening sky. He hoped Wren and Lan would change the subject—it made him anxious to keep talking about the spell, and it worried him that Wren might connect him to Mistress Vy. But if the Gray City’s leader and her family were known for their magical blood, it would only be a matter of time before everyone else came to that conclusion. He imagined Commander Wei treating him like the son of an enemy and ordering the soldiers to leave him behind.

If Mistress Vy truly was Bao’s mother, that meant the Gray City wasBao’s true home. And it also meant that it washisfamily who was responsible for the strife on Feng Lu. They had ignored the king’s orders to stop producing a dangerous drug, and they were the reason why Empress Jade was sending Commander Wei to negotiate before openly declaring war. Bao didn’t know how to feel about his association to such a family, when mere days ago, he hadn’t known he’d had a family at all.

He felt sick with the confusion of it all.

Lan was watching him, likely fretting over his pallor and silence. Bao knew he ought to be grateful for her concern, but he already felt trapped within the walls of his own mind—he didn’t need to add worrying about someone else’s fear into the bargain.

That afternoon, when they stopped to eat and rest, Bao avoided Lan and approached Commander Wei, who stood brushing his stallion’s coat tenderly. He raised an eyebrow as Bao came close and asked, “What is your story, young man? I saw what black spice did to you. I knew someone once who also... That drug doesn’t give visions to just anybody.”

“Believe me, sir, I didn’t want that vision,” Bao told him.

All around them, their companions sat down to eat. The soldiers had packed a wagon full of food for the journey, and from the murmurs of satisfaction, it sounded as though they had done their job well. Lan’s bright, rippling laugh rose above the rumble of deep voices.

The Commander gestured to the ground, and they both sat.

Bao felt the tension between them like a thick curtain and knew that his dignity would not be able to weather the Commander throwing him out of the group like a shameful traitor. It was time to be truthful. “I’m worried about my visions,” he admitted. “And my connection to the Gray City. You mentioned that Mistress Vy’s family had a witch in its bloodline, and the witch who cursed me may be my aunt. I’m afraid.”

“I’m not going to abandon you because you might be a criminal’s son,”Commander Wei said gently, and Bao’s head snapped to him in surprise. There was a wry, not unkind look on the older man’s face. “I promised Empress Jade that I would take you south, and I will. Her Majesty believes you to be honest, and she also knows Minister Vu. Miss Vu told us last night that her father would gladly vouch for you. So don’t worry.”

“Thank you, sir,” Bao said, with quiet gratitude.

“And since you weren’t raised by Mistress Vy, leader of the biggest eyesore on Feng Lu, why don’t you tell me whodidraise you?”

The Commander sharpened his daggers as Bao told him about the various people with whom he had lived. The young, unmarried mother who had taken him in, thinking he would provide for her and her daughters when he grew up, but who had soon given up the arduous task of feeding three mouths. The family who had let him live on their farm until a drought had destroyed their crops. The kind old man who had taught him how to fish, but whose son’s wife had evicted Bao, fearing that Bao would take precedence over her own children.

“You were only ever a knife’s edge away from the work camps,” the Commander said, pausing in his work to look at Bao. “It’s a hard existence for any child, I imagine, being forced to shovel in the mines, work the fields, dye fabrics in stuffy buildings. Whatever use people find for those orphans after the parents die of illness... or black spice addiction, as so many did.”

“I was fortunate to avoid the camps.” Bao pulled out the flute, his grip on it tight and secure. “I also lived with an elderly couple who gave me this and showed me more kindness than I have ever known. I started to think that might be what it felt like to have a family. People who wonder about you when you’re not there, and want you to be happy wherever you are.”

Commander Wei’s face was gentler than Bao had ever seen it. “I spent many years alone, too. My parents died when I was young, and I always dreamed of marrying one day and raising my own children.”

“But that never happened?”

His silence was all the answer Bao needed. He watched the Commander’s hands move deftly over the blade and couldn’t help wondering about the man’s love for former Empress Xifeng. What might it do to a man—not only having to see a woman he had loved die, but to be the cause of her death himself? Bao felt a surge of sympathy for the gruff, lonely soldier.

“You’re fading a bit,” Commander Wei said suddenly.

Bao looked down to see his hands growing filmy. “It’s the spell,” he said wearily.

Commander Wei placed a large, heavy hand on Bao’s shoulder, but Bao’s hands did not solidify as they would have done for Lan. Bao felt only a seeping dark cold in his fingers... and then a luxurious, joyful warmth from his other shoulder, where Lan had just placed her hand. Bao hadn’t heard her approach. Her touch was sunlight pushing back the ageless cold. In his lap, his hands grew solid and heavy, and he felt himself sinking into the soft grass. She wore a little smirk as he looked up at her sheepishly.

“The witch said it would only work with someone he loves,” she told Commander Wei.

“Someone he loves,” the Commander said thoughtfully. “So, are the two of you...”

“No, sir,” Bao said hastily, at the same time that Lan blurted out, “Of course not.”

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