Jade Fire Gold(4)

“But—”

“Not now, Guoguo.” It’s been a while since I’ve used his nickname and it brings a grin to his face.

He squeezes my arm lightly. “I’ll convince you one day.”

I find myself smiling back. His hope is infectious, even if it is naive.

We stop by the communal well and I untie my waterskin from my belt, heart heavy as a stone. I drop the bucket. The wait before it hits the water feels longer than usual. How long before the groundwater runs dry? How long before Shahmo turns entirely into a ghost town? And if Shahmo goes, what will happen to my village? The fraying rope burns my palms as I haul the bucket back up. Maybe the only way to survive is to grow thicker skin.

Something grabs my leg.

I lurch back with a scream, spilling precious water.

A woman stares up at me. Her short, dark hair is matted in knots, and she’s lying on the ground, swathed in rags. She lets go of my ankle, her fingers gnarled and shaking. She’s missing a leg, and I smell putrid, decaying flesh. She must have been hiding behind the well. I want to look away, but my eyes latch onto the mark on her forehead.

Despite the dirt smeared on her face, the Shi character branded onto her skin remains an obvious, painful scarlet.

Traitor.

I stagger back into Li Guo. “We should go.”

The woman makes an awful sound. A distorted, hoarse gurgle. I know she can’t speak. None of the traitors can. Not without their tongues.

Instead of leaving, Li Guo crouches down beside her.

“What are you doing?” I whisper, glancing around furtively. There’s nobody and nothing but shuttered shophouses. But the fear of the Diyeh priests is so ingrained in my mind that my heart pounds at the mere thought of them.

Li Guo is unafraid.

“Give her your food,” he says.

“No! What’s wrong with you? We can’t help her. What if someone sees us?” I cringe at how heartless I sound.

Best to be cautious, even if you must be callous, I remind myself. It’s a saying the people of Shahmo have.

Li Guo shoots me a look of disdain. “Don’t be a coward. She’s hungry and she’s going to die if we don’t help.”

But she’s going to die anyway, I want to say.

“What if the priests catch us?” My words ring hollow in my ears as the woman makes that frightful sound again and gestures at the bucket. A dim light pleads from those empty eyes.

“If you don’t want to help, get out of my way.”

Li Guo pushes me aside as he drops the bucket back into the well. He drags it up and stoops, ladling water into his palms. Greedily, noisily, the woman drinks, half choking with eager relief. I see now that she’s young, barely older than me.

Traitor.

That red character on her forehead seems to yell at me. I wonder who the girl tried to protect. A mother? A brother? Or maybe a friend. Either way, her crime was painfully simple: she harbored the Tiensai, people who are cursed with magic. The priests raid the towns and villages for them, burning them at the stake in a public display while their family members are forced to watch.

Anyone who helps the Tiensai suffers a different fate.

Like this girl, their tongues are cut out, their hair shaved off. They are marked. Branded. A physical punishment you can’t hide. Shunned for life because no one dares to help them. Because everyone knows what the repercussions of helping are.

She must’ve gotten injured and lost her leg because no one was brave or kind enough to aid her. Again and again, Li Guo offers her palmfuls of water. She drinks gratefully.

You think your life is hard? Shout it out in the streets and see if anyone cares.

The mántou is tucked inside my robes, still warm and fresh. My hands fumble. I pull out a bun and press it into the girl’s hands. I can’t tell if she’s smiling at me—her lips are too ruined.

But I know she’s crying.

Li Guo looks up at me, eyes flashing with indignation. “Do you know why the priests cut off their tongues instead of killing them?”

I have no answer.

“They do it to take away hope, to create despair. They know the rest of us will ignore these so-called traitors to save our own skins.” His fists clench. “And they are right.”

I blink away an image seared into my brain. A memory I haven’t been able to forget even after ten years. It scares me to this day, and it reminds me to watch myself. I shouldn’t have helped the girl; I can’t afford to get into trouble.

“She helped the Tiensai,” I say. “She should know that magic is banned in the Empire and for good reason. The priests say the Tiensai’s magic created this desert and it’s causing the drought in the southeastern village where rice can’t grow, and—”

“Are you saying she deserves this?” Li Guo cuts in coldly.

“No! I’m saying that we shouldn’t help her anymore. The priests—”

Li Guo raises an angry hand to silence me. “We’ve had this conversation before, and I don’t want to have it now. Leave. I’ll find another way to help her.”

I see the naked hope in the girl’s eyes as she looks at Li Guo. She thinks he’s her savior. I know better. I wish I could tell him the truth about myself. But he will be safer if he doesn’t know. I turn away from them, willing one foot ahead of the other. Willing myself not to think of that night, ten years ago, when I was wandering the dusty streets of Shahmo, scared and alone.