Her favorite flower. A sign her soul still lingers here, watching over us.
A sudden wind picks up and rustles the trees. The leaves brush against my hair, as if they sense the sadness inside and wish to offer me comfort.
I run my thumb over the necklace I wear at the base of my throat—the bumps and crevices of the symbol signifying eternity, the cosmic balance. Three souls contained within each of us, separated from our bodies when we die. One returning to the earth, one to the air, and the final soul descending into the wheel of life. I press my lips against the hard, smooth bead at the knot’s center.
Grief has a taste, bitter and lingering, but so soft it sometimes disguises itself as sweetness.
Mother, it is here I miss you the most.
I whisper a promise to her, to return with a cure for Shu’s illness.
With my hands clasped over my heart, I bow, a promise to the dead and the living, and leave my childhood home behind.
* * *
I reach the main road, which leads me close to the slumbering village. I turn back only once, to glance at the night softening around our gardens. Even in the darkness, fog curls around the top of the tea trees, muting their color. A sea of swaying green and white.
That’s when I hear something—a curious rustling, birdlike. I pause. There’s movement across the tiled roof of a nearby building, down the sloped ridges. I recognize the shape of the rafters—it’s the tea warehouse at the edge of town. Holding my breath, I listen. That is no bird. It’s the whisper of shoes sliding across the rooftop.
A shadow appears in the dirt before me, cast from above—crouched and furtive. An intruder.
There is no good reason to skulk about the governor’s warehouse. Unless you want to be pulled into pieces by four horses, spurred in opposing directions. Or … if you have the power to defy him with the strength of three men, the ability to leap up to the rooftop in a single bound, and can cut your way out of a crowd of soldiers with the swiftness of your sword.
The Shadow.
People have spread warnings about the Shadow—the strange figure said to be behind the rash of tea poisonings throughout the land. It is known that bandits lurk near the borders of Dàxī, robbing caravans and hurting anyone who gets in their way. But there is a certain outlaw who does not associate with the list of gangs known to the Ministry of Justice. One outlaw who is able to find hidden treasures and expose secrets, leaving a trail of bodies behind them.
The flash of a crow’s wing I saw in the steam above the teacup … it was an omen, after all.
Something flies past my head and falls at my feet with a thud. A curse rings above me and the footsteps quicken, scurrying away. It’s the curse that piques my interest: If it is the famed Shadow, then they sound terribly human. Curiosity strikes against the suspicion within me, so quick—spark to flame.
I pick up the fallen object and my nail pierces the thin paper covering. Underneath, I feel something familiar—slender strands compacted into a solid block, emitting an earthy smell. A tea brick. I flip over the package, and the red seal leaps up at me in warning. The governor promised us that all the poisoned bricks have been seized, marked to be destroyed.
I follow the sound of the footsteps on the roof, the dread in my stomach growing tighter with each step, turning from fear to anger. Anger at my mother’s death, at Shu’s constant pain.
Rolling my shoulders back, a growl rises in my throat as the power of the courage tea moves through my body, encouraging my boldness. I shrug off my belongings and set them against the side of the warehouse. The tea brick, I crush in my hands. The pieces crumble to powder and scatter in a trail behind me as I push myself into a run. The anger feels good. It feels real, a welcome reprieve from my usual helplessness. My mind narrows down to a single point of focus: I cannot let them escape with the poison. Not when it means another girl might have to bury her mother.
I fly around the corner, discarding all pretense at stealth. Only speed matters now.
My eyes catch the dark blur moving through the air, landing in front of me not twenty steps away. Their back is to me and I don’t think; I close the distance in the span of two breaths and throw myself at them with all my fury.
We fall to the ground, their balance thrown off by my weight. My hands grab for anything I can find, tightening around fabric, even as the impact of landing sends a wave of pain through my shoulder. They’re already moving, twisting under my grasp. I jab the thief under the ribs with my elbow, forcing a breath out in a whoosh. Knowledge gained from assisting my father in holding down grown men as he resets their bones.