Droust struggled to cling to his senses only because he knew the Blue Lady would punish him for passing out. He didn’t know how he endured the pain. But at last she withdrew her hand from him.
“Good. You did well, manling.” The Blue Lady smiled in satisfaction. “Now this monk is mine. We’ll find out how good he is, and I’ll bring him here.” She paused. “You had better hope that he isn’t any smarter about Liou’s books than you have been.”
“Lady, even if you get him here, even if he can break Liou’s code, you don’t know that you can trust him.”
“Do I know that I can trust you?”
Droust hesitated, wondering if it was a trick question. “Yes, lady. I still want to live.”
She regarded him pitilessly. “We are both prisoners, you and I. But I live to be free and would risk my life in the doing of that. But youyou want only to live. Even if it is in a miserable existence.”
In his fear, Droust didn’t have room to be ashamed of his cowardice. That fear was a part of his life. He was certain that the only way he could be free of it was to be dead. He wasn’t ready to die.
“We can track the monk now. Soon I will be inside his mind, as I was in yours, and I will draw him to us. In the meantime, order the Nine Golden Swords to find him.”
“Yes, lady.” Droust watched her go, then turned back to his desk and took out the crystal she had enspelled to allow him contact with the Nine Golden Swords. His fear throbbed inside him. But he did as he was bade.
“Who was the Blue Lady?”
Shang-Li tore a bite-sized portion from the deep-fried bread he held and dipped it into the fish-flavored congee. The rice gruel stuck to the fry bread and he popped it into his mouth.
His father gestured for him to speak. “You were up all night studying the journal. You have a better idea of her from the entries, surely.”
Shang-Li did, but he knew his father wouldn’t like it. “Farsiak believed she was a goddess.”
“Nonsense.” Across the breakfast table in the galley, Kwan Yuan dipped his fry bread into sweetened milk and let it soak for a moment. “We know all of the gods and goddesses.”
“We did until the Spellplague. Things have changed.” Shang-Li’s eyes burned. He’d only dozed a short time before his father had wakened him to breakfast, and none of that had been restful. His mind had churned constantly. Stiffness from his exertions and bruising the day before filled his body. He needed to stretch them out and promised himself that he would.
“Why would a goddess make herself known to Bayel Droust?” his father asked. “Why would she destroy Grayling?”
“Farsiak felt Droust had been chosen by the Blue Lady.” “Chosen for what?”
“Droust was the only one that the Blue Lady didn’t kill that day.”
“Except for this sailor.”
“He felt he escaped only because she didn’t care if he lived or died.”
His father nodded. “However, Farsiak could also have chosen to view his continued existence to her generosity.”
“He chose not to see it that way. As evidenced by his journal. And the fact that he never put to sea again.” Shang-Li reached for another piece of fried bread.
“Feh. Wouldn’t Droust have known he was the chosen of a goddess before that night?”
Shang-Li sipped his green tea. “Does one always know when the gods have favored them?”
“Of course.”
“We don’t all worship the same gods.” His father looked at him.
“Perhaps,” Shang-Li said, “some gods choose to follow different paths and enjoy surprises as well as the next person.”
Kwan Yung licked sweetened milk from his fingertips. “Some clerics would argue that point.”
“I found something else of interest in the book.”
“What?”
Shang-Li reached for the sailor’s journal and laid it before him. “While I was working with it last night, I discovered a hiding place.” He pulled at the cloth and separated it from the binding. Revealed within, the single folded ivory sheet stood out against the dark binding.
Kwan Yung reached for the paper, but Shang-Li closed the book before his father could reach it.
“Not yet.” Shang-Li knew he was enjoying the moment too much. Anger flared in his father’s hazel eyes and he took that as a warning. Still, he couldn’t simply tell his father what he had discovered.
“You try my patience. This mission that we’re on is very important.”
“I know. That’s why I think we both need this instruction.” Shang-Li tapped the book in his hands. “We were so intent on what was contained within the book that we didn’t question the book itself.”
His father looked at book with new eyes. “This is a well made book.”
Shang-Li smiled, confident that his father had caught on to their mistake. “The book has been hard used. It was easy to miss the quality of its construction.”
Irritation tightened his father’s frown. “Feh. The stitching alone gives away the nature of the book. I should not have overlooked that.”
“We should not have overlooked that.”
“Why would a sailor keep a journal in a book so fine?” His father pulled thoughtfully at his chin whiskers. “A captain who wants to make a favorable impression on merchants trusting their cargoes with him might keep such a book. He would be able to afford and justify the expense of such a book. A light-fingered sailor might pilfer such a book from his captain.”
“A captain would consider such a book an investment,” Shang-Li pointed out.
His father nodded. “The captain of Grayling was an honorable man, and a stickler for details. That’s why the Council chose him and his ship. If someone had stolen this book from him, he would have turned the ship inside out to find it.”
Shang-Li tapped the journal again. “We’re in agreement then. There was only one person aboard that ship who had extra books and might not notice if one went missing.”
“Droust.” His father smiled. “Perhaps your lessons at the monastery were not squandered after all.”
“Mother taught me how to read sign in the wild. She taught me to notice variances in everything I looked at. Especially things I thought I already knew. If anything, I’ve neglected what she taught me this time.”
Kwan Yung pursed his lips and shook his head slightly, but he didn’t argue the point. “Did the sailor know this paper was here?”
“There’s no indication of the binding having been disturbed before I lifted it. If I hadn’t felt the discrepancy beneath my fingertips, I wouldn’t have noticed it either. The paper was very well hidden.”
“You’ve looked at it?”
“I have. And it only offers yet another conundrum.” Shang-Li fished out the paper, unfolded it, and left it there for his father to peruse.
After a brief inspection, his father leaned more closely to the paper and gave it a more thorough examination. He traced the lines with his forefinger, then quickly drew back in surprise.
“Did you feel that?” his father asked.
“The shock?” Shang-Li inquired.
His father nodded and rubbed his forefinger against the ball of his thumb.
“When I touched paper, there was a spark. It bit into my hand.” Shang-Li showed his father the indigo spot that had been left on his palm.
Concern darkened his father’s eyes. “Are you sure you are well? Books have sometimes been treated with all manner of traps.”
“I know. I had the ship’s mage examine my hand.” Shang-Li made a fist and still felt some of the dull tingling he’d experienced since touching the paper. “He said magic had lingered within the paper, but it was nothing that would harm me.”
“We’re going to put into port soon. Perhaps we should have someone check your hand there.”
“If there are any problems, we can do that, but I don’t think that’s going to be necessary.”
“I’ve touched the paper several times since the first shock,” Shang-Li said. “It didn’t affect me again. I think
