Chapter Thirteen
Leander sat in thepalace, staring out at the gardens, but he wasn’t seeing.He wasn’t feeling as much as existing in some foggy space that precluded thought.He quite liked it.
“Lian,” a voice called.Leander did not react, but then hands caught him, pulled him, and Shanlin dragged him back to reality by clinging to him, half in his lap and sobbing.
“He’s dead,” he cried.“Xi is dead!”
“No,” Leander wrapped his arms around the boy who had suffered too much.These tears were likely healthy, but Leander had to force himself not to recoil.“He is being treated.”
Shanlin stared at him, eyes huge and disbelieving.
Leander twitched at the implied disrespect, as if he would lie.The boy didn’t mean it—he had simply seen too much death to trust that it had passed them by this time.
“The doctor and Master Teacher Wang are with him,” Leander said.
Heng settled into a chair carved to resemble two cranes.“Your qidi is lucky you are so skilled,” Heng said.
Leander nodded.
“Do you know who might have done such a thing?”Heng’s voice was gentle, but it poked a sore spot in Leander’s soul.He knew too many who would want them dead.Druwolf, other criminal lords, the city police, the state police, the American government.That was before he started counting people who had a personal grudge—the individuals Creek had arrested, the family members of those who died because of Leander’s choices.
Leander glanced toward Shanlin.“This is not the place to discuss possibilities.”
Heng smiled.“Your son is a wise boy, and we do not believe in hiding the truth from our sons in China.”
“Only your daughters?”Leander countered.
Heng’s laughter was as effortless as the graceful flow of the robe’s fabric around his knees.He was grace personified, and Leander felt like a rough lump of flesh next to him.“Our daughters know more truth than we, the men, do.Chinese daughters learn early to plot to take power others refuse to give them freely.”
“Maybe you should treat people more equally, and they won’t have to plot.”
“Given more access to power, they might take over the world because they have learned to plot so effectively.Chinese men are all that stands between the world and a thousand-year rule by Chinese queens.”Heng grinned at him, his lopsided smile so endearing it caught Leander in a memory of Heng with that same smile in his bed.Even then, even before life had torn Leander apart and left him more bitter and cold and scarred, he had been shocked that someone so beautiful had chosen him.
“I prefer my son to remain undisturbed by nightmares.”Leander stroked Shanlin’s hair.
“I know what happens.I know who’s after us,” Shanlin whispered.
Heng raised an eyebrow as though challenging Leander.
“We’re safe here,” Leander promised.
“Here in the school?Absolutely,” Heng said.“The Flying Swords school has stood for two thousand years, although for the first five hundred or so it was little more than a house upon a hill.No Westerner will breach our defenses.”
“But we aren’t safe out there,” Shanlin whispered.
“We are,” Leander said.“Now that I know what poison feels like outside the plant, I can search for it.”He made deliberate eye contact with Heng.“If your teachers will give me access to what poisons they know, I can learn each poison and protect us.”
Heng tilted his head to the side.“Or you can stay here.”
