Kati decided he was really quite handsome-for a Searcher.

He stepped forward, and bowed. "Mengyao, Chosen One, I came to tell you that Mengmoshu wishes to see you immediately after your return. There is a horrible flap brewing over this incident. Is this the child?"

"Yes. I must first find a comfortable place for her, and see that's she's fed. We've been riding all day."

"I will take charge of her, Chosen One. It will be an honor. Mengmoshu was most insistent. He wants to see you immediately in his offices."

"Then I must go," said Mengyao. "See to her needs, and make her comfortable for the night. This will likely be a long meeting." Mengyao's hand pressed on Kati's shoulder. "This student will take care of you for now, but I will see you again soon."

And he walked away.

The student knelt before her, and she gave him a stony look. In return, he smiled, so that there were little lines around his deep brown eyes.

"I praise First Mother for your safety. My name is Huomeng, which means 'dream of fire.' What is your name, child?"

If I'm a child, you are little more than that.

"Ha!" said Huomeng. "What is said about you is true, and so we will speak without words."

I am thirteen, and began my studies for the Brotherhood only a year ago. Mengyao does me honor in seeing to you. Now, what is your name?

I am Kati.

"Kati," said the boy, as if tasting the word. His black hair was cut short, and combed straight back from his forehead to form a short tail at the nape of his neck, held there by a golden ring. He smoothed his hair with a sweep of his hand, looking reflectively at her. "I don't know the meaning of that, but it's a nice name. We need to get some food for you, Kati. Will you take my hand?"

Kati put her hands behind her, and glared at him.

I understand, but now come with me.

He rested a hand lightly on her shoulder to guide her, for he was several heads taller than she. They walked beneath a red awning towards a door guarded by two great shizi made from black stone. The door opened as they approached, closed behind them, and suddenly there were people everywhere, rushing to and fro in a great, golden hall lined with balconies, and a ceiling higher than the tallest tree Kati could remember. All the people, men and women, were dressed in the white, tight-fitting clothes worn by Huomeng. They looked at her curiously, but did not smile, and went their way.

Huomeng took her to a woman seated behind a huge table in the center of the hall, and talked to her in hushed tones while Kati stared about her at her surroundings. The woman picked up a slender instrument, and spoke into it, and then Huomeng put his hand on Kati's shoulder and guided her to another door leading to stairs. "All our guest rooms have been taken, so it's not the best," said Huomeng, "but it will do for a short time. Food is being brought down for you."

They descended three flights of narrow stairs in the glow of yellow, odorless lamps overhead, and came out in a room with a single table, on which slouched a trooper with full armor, a short stick of gleaming metal at his side. The trooper stood up as they entered, and gave Kati a look that chilled her.

"This child is to be kept safely overnight for Mengyao, and food will arrive for her shortly," Huomeng said curtly. "I was told we can use room two."

The trooper said nothing, but went to a gate of metal bars, beyond which was a hallway with solid, closed doors on one side, the other side a lattice of metal bars. "Second door," mumbled the trooper, and he unlocked the gate.

He doesn't like orders from a boy.

He will take them anyway, Kati, because the boy becomes a man, and remembers things.

The trooper closed the gate behind them, then went to a closed door and began unlocking it. The left hallway was all cages, and a few steps away Kati saw a pair of hands grasping the bars, a frightening face dimly illuminated there. The trooper fumbled with the door, started to open it.

"There is s.p.a.ce for her with me, Te! Bring her here! I've been without a woman for many nights!"

"Shut up!" snarled the trooper, "or I'll give you a taste of my whip!" He looked at Huomeng, made a circular motion at his own temple with a finger, then opened the door and said, "she should be comfortable in here."

The room was a box, half the size of a ger. Bare walls, a lamp in the ceiling, table, chair and cot, a ceramic seat in one corner that caught Kati's eye. It had a hole in it, and there was water in the bottom of the seat. A fancy toilet, little better than a pot.

The trooper left, but Huomeng stayed with her until a woman dressed in white arrived with a tray heaped with covered dishes, a cup, and a pot of tea. She placed the tray on the table, nodded politely to Huomeng, and left without a word.

Kati's stomach growled at the smell of food, for she had been hungry for hours. Huomeng sat her down at the table, and uncovered the dishes one by one. "Rice, with beef strips, vegetables from our farms beyond the mountain, tea, and some sweet grapes to finish the meal."

The food odors were wonderful, but Kati clenched her hands in her lap and shook her head.

"It's your choice, Kati. I will not force you to eat, but you accomplish nothing by starving yourself. Your life is more precious than you realize, but you must first want to live it."

Huomeng went to the open door, pointed to a thing on the wall. "There's a blanket on the cot. When you want to sleep, you can turn off the light here." He wiggled the little lever on the wall; the light went off, then came on again. Kati blinked in surprise.

Huomeng smiled again. "Please eat, and rest. Either I, or someone else, will be back to get you in the morning. If you need anything else, ask the guard. He is now responsible for you."

Kati glared at the food, mouth watering, but pressed her lips tightly together.

Goodbye, Kati. I hope to see you again.

She turned to look at him, but he was gone. Suddenly, she was alone, in a strange place far from home, with strange foods before her. The odors made her head spin, and her stomach felt like it was eating itself.

Kati sat there for a long time, looking at the steaming dishes, and rubbing her tortured stomach.

If I don't eat, they will force it on me. I cannot hurt them by not eating. I only hurt myself, and I've done nothing wrong. Why am I so important to them? Why am I still alive?

Finally, she could stand it no longer. She looked around furtively, then picked up the wooden utensils on the tray and began to eat.

In half an hour, she'd finished everything.

She lay down on the cot, and tried to sleep. The light was on, the door still open, but she left them that way. The occasional grumblings and clanking of the guard up the hallway told her she was not truly alone, and she did not want to be in darkness.

But even with the lights on and her eyes closed, her mind began replaying the events of the day. She saw Ma and Sushua lying there, Abaka's burned body, his eyes staring. She thought of Da, holding her, Ma's gentle hands in her hair, and Baber getting his horse at the great sea. The memories rushed through her like a wind, and then she began to cry.

She buried her face in the cot, and her body shook with sobs, tears soaking the canvas beneath her face. And suddenly there was a voice from down the hallway outside.

"Little girl! I hear you in there! Are you lonely, little girl? Come down here! I have something that will make you happy!" And then the man was grunting in little gasps.

The guard came by her doorway like a storm, the metal stick in his hand. "If you wish to waggle your limp organ in public, then I will do something to stimulate you!" he shouted.

Instantly, there was the sound of sizzling meat, and a horrible shriek from down the hallway, followed by moans, and retching.

The guard appeared at her doorway, his face an angry mask. "Sorry. He won't bother you again. Now, get some sleep before they come for you." He reached inside to the wall, and the light went off. Then he closed the door.

Kati fell back on the cot, shaking all over. She clenched her hands over her heaving chest and bit her lip, tasting blood. Her fingers found the pendants: the pretty sh.e.l.l, the Eye of Tengri. The remnants of a past life. She clutched at them like a dying person with a precious object, a last touch with life. And far into the night, before sleep finally took her, she keened her grief into the darkness, for all that she had lost that day.

CHAPTER FIVE.

WEIMENG.

Lady Weimeng suffered a dream about her dead child.

The first wife of w.a.n.g Shan-shi-jie, The Son of Heaven, tossed restlessly in sleep and moaned. In her dream the girl-child Mengnu was now five, and they were in the upper garden with a fine view of the western mountains. Mengnu was wading in the gravel-bottomed pool there and giggling with delight when the carp tickled her tiny feet. Her dark eyes twinkled with merriment in a round symmetrical face, and she clapped her hands in glee, dropping the hems of her golden robe and soaking it. Her box-cut black hair, coming down to her eyebrows, gave her the appearance of a fine, porcelain doll made by the ancestors.

Weimeng watched her daughter try to catch the carp with her hands, heard her squeals of excitement when a big one slid from her grasp. She turned her attention again to ink and brushes, the drawing pad in her lap where she sat on a carpet of moss at the edge of the pool. She dipped a brush and resumed her drawing of the mountains, placing a paG.o.da at the summit of a sharp peak before feeling a hand on her shoulder and looking up to see The Son of Heaven standing there, smiling down at her.

"My husband," she said, lowering her eyes before him.

"Da!" cried Mengnu. "I will catch a fish for you!" She plunged her little hands deep into the water, splashing herself, coming up sputtering and empty-handed. "They are very fast, Da!" she said, grinning.

"They will not be so fast when you're older," said the Emperor of Shanji. He sat down by Weimeng, slid an arm around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder to look at her painting.

"Ah, there is a new structure on the three peaks that are one," he said, and Weimeng smelled cinnamon on his breath.

"It overlooks the great plateau. I would have it there to commemorate the first landing on Shanji," she said.

He kissed her neck. "Then I will build it for you, and when Mengnu is Empress she will burn incense there in memory of us."

His face was smooth, lips soft when she touched them. They were young again, and in love, and the heiress to their throne splashed merrily in the pool beside them.

But then it seemed that a dark cloud had suddenly pa.s.sed over them and the light of Tengri-Khan was blocked off. Weimeng looked up and saw two monstrous storks descending upon them, black as night, beaks like swords, claws outstretched. She was seized with paralysis, unable to move a muscle as the great birds descended to the pool and grasped her daughter by the shoulders, lifting her from the water.

Mengnu screamed, "Ma! Da! Don't let them take me!" But Weimeng could not move, nor could she utter a word, and her husband was suddenly gone. She could only watch helplessly as the great black birds carried her shrieking, struggling daughter away from her towards the mountains until they were out of sight and she was alone by the pool, and the tears raining from her face had ruined the painting in her lap.

She found her voice, and cried out, "Mengnu! We will search for you, my darling! We will find you!"

And she was awake, surrounded by the golden curtain of her bed, the pillow-surface at her cheek saturated with tears. She must have cried out in sleep, for there was movement beyond the curtain, a silhouette there in the dim light, then a soft, feminine voice.

"Are you ill, My Lady? I came as quickly as I could when I heard your call."

It was Tanchun, her First Servant, ever watchful.

Weimeng sat up to catch her breath, for it seemed like her heart was skipping beats. "I've had a dream. Please get Juimoshu for me at once."

"It is very late, My Lady. I must disturb her sleep."

"Tell her I've had a dream about my child and would know the meaning of it immediately. Go quickly!"

"Yes, My Lady." And Tanchun was quickly gone from the palace suite.

There was meaning to the dream; of this, Weimeng was certain. There was significance in black storks taking back the blessing of a child and flying westward to the mountains. And the paG.o.da. Why had she drawn that? Only Juimoshu had the power to penetrate such womanly dreams and see the meaning behind them, for she was the only living female among The Chosen Ones, and claimed direct contact with First Mother. She would come to Weimeng because it was her responsibility to interpret such dreams for the royal family. But mostly, she would come because Weimeng was the artificially inseminated child of her own body.

Weimeng arose, and put on a red robe embroidered with golden shizi. The entire suite was in red and gold: thick carpets of wool, lamps of bra.s.s, wall hangings of scenes from the western sea to the mountains to the farming plains and villages east of the city. Scenes of everyday life among her people. Scenes of families-with children. With consciousness fully returned, Weimeng's heart ached again over Mengnu, the only child she'd ever been able to carry to full term. But Mengnu was stillborn, and buried without ceremony because it was her husband's will.

And then he had taken a second wife, a girl forty years his junior, and she had given him a son.

Weimeng sat down at the ebony desk in the center of the suite, facing the great double-door entrance to the suite, now closed. Two chairs sat before the desk; in one corner opposite her canopied and shrouded bed was a conversational corner of two couches and matching chairs that hadn't been used in five years. Her husband had been in the suite only a few times during those years, and then only to ask her advice on various political matters. They had not slept together since the death of Mengnu, and now his bed was shared only by Yang Xifeng, the mother of his son.

The top of the desk was littered with sketches and paintings in inks and watercolors which occupied her days and long evenings with only servants as companions. The odors of incense and cinnamon tea lingered there from the previous evening, but now the tea was cold and strong to the taste, making her grimace when she tried a sip.

Years ago, her days had been spent in court at her husband's side, asking questions, giving advice which softened his natural tendency for harshness, relaying subtle, long-term desires of The Brotherhood which came to her through her mother. But those days were now past, the rule of w.a.n.g Shan-shi-jie growing harsher each year, his connection with The Chosen Ones more tenuous and with it his belief in and respect for First Mother, for whose children he was responsible.

Weimeng feared for the stability of her husband's throne, for he both underestimated and disregarded the power and influence of The Brotherhood, despite her mother's repeated warnings. First, the Tumatsin lands had been taken away to grow crops that were only excess, and now there had been an attack on a village. Children had been killed, and The Chosen were furious over it for reasons unknown to her. Was it the death of children that had triggered her dream?

There was a soft rap on the suite's door. "Enter!" she said.

The door opened slightly, and Tanchun peered around it. "Lady Juimoshu has arrived, My Lady."

"Show her in, and bring hot tea, please." Weimeng shuffled her drawings together in a neat stack, and placed it to one side as her mother entered the room.

Her mother squeezed past Tanchun, and stopped as the door closed behind her. "I've been awakened from a sound sleep, my dear, so I presume this is very important to you."

"It is, mother. I think First Mother has spoken to me in a dream about Mengnu."

Juimoshu's eyes narrowed for a brief instant. She walked forward slowly, body proudly erect for a small woman in her sixties, and sat down in a chair before her daughter's desk. She wore a plain robe of natural black wool, and her grey hair hung to her waist in a great ma.s.s spilling down over her back. Her small black eyes were set close together on either side of a finely arched nose, her intense gaze always giving her a searching look that gave people pause for thought when dealing with her.

Juimoshu folded her tiny hands in her lap. "Well, what is it? I thought the dreams about your dead child had finally ended, and you were resigned to your fate at last. Tell me, daughter."

Weimeng leaned back in her chair, hands in her lap. "What you say is true, though I've continued to wonder why First Mother has abandoned me in such a cruel way."

"You have been in my prayers to Her, child. I can do nothing more than that."

"And perhaps those prayers have been fruitful, mother. This dream of Mengnu is the first in over a year, and there is symbolism in it I need to understand. Here is what I saw in that dream."

Weimeng told her mother about the dream in complete detail, for it was yet fresh in her mind and her heart still ached with the memory of it. She was interrupted once by Tanchun, who returned with two cups of hot tea for them and quickly left the room. But the tea remained untouched during their conversation.

Juimoshu steepled her hands before her face and closed her eyes as she listened, remaining that way for several moments after Weimeng had finished telling her story.

Now, her eyes opened. "You've not had this dream before tonight?"

"No, mother. It is something new, and quite intense."

Juimoshu again folded her hands loosely in her lap and sat there for a long moment, looking down at them, deep in thought while Weimeng waited patiently.

"There is significance in this dream," she finally said, "but I hesitate to say what I think because I do not want to give you false hope."

Weimeng stiffened. "What is it, mother?"

Juimoshu sighed. "The black storks are a symbol given to young women who have lost a child, but who will conceive again. Because of the damage done to you during the still-birth of your daughter, that is clearly not possible for you and yet there is the inference of another child to come. And there are other peculiarities here. An imperfect child is taken to Tengri-Khan for recasting into a more perfect form to follow, yet in your dream the storks flew towards the mountains in the west with a child still alive and struggling. A direct interpretation of this infers a new child will come to you from the west, not from the source of all life, and that child will be the reincarnation of your little lost one."

Weimeng caught her breath, and leaned forward, putting her hands flat on the desk, her eyes stinging. "Mengnu? She will be returned to me? Oh, mother, can it be true?" Tears ran down her cheeks and she stifled a sob.