Read Online The Secrets of Jin-Shei by Alma Alexander - Free Book Online
Authors: Alma Alexander
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about this?” the man inquired courteously, inclining his head the merest fraction to indicate her foot, not naming the affliction, as politeness demanded.
“No,
sei.
No, my Lord, that is my mother’s reason for visiting the Temple.”
“Oh?” he said. “And not yours?”
“I come here to understand, not to beg for petty miracles,” Nhia said, and then bit her lip to prevent a small gasp from escaping. She had offered a discourtesy, at the least, and he could take her remark as borderline blasphemous if he chose.
“How old are you?” asked her benefactor instead, unexpectedly, after a pause which might have indicated surprise.
“I turned thirteen only a few days ago,
sei
,” Nhia said, relieved to be back on safe ground.
“I have heard the name of a young girl who comes here to talk of the spirits with the Temple acolytes,” the man said thoughtfully. “Would that be you? What is your name, child?”
“NhiNhi,” Nhia said, instinctively giving her child-name, the name her mother had called her by when she was a baby, and then flushed scarlet. “I mean … Nhia,
sei.
”
“Nhia,” he repeated, with an air of committing it to memory. “Well, Nhia, seeker of wisdom, perhaps we shall meet again.”
Nhia dared a quick, flickering look to his face. “Yes,
sei
,” she said, aware that she sounded like she was indicating an agreement to that future meeting instead of a simple response that his words seemed to demand.
He straightened, gestured to someone out of Nhia’s line of sight, and then bowed to her lightly—
bowed
to her!—and strode away in a whisper of expensive silk robes.
Nhia realized she was trembling.
When hurrying footsteps approached her a moment later, she lifted her eyes to meet the intensely curious gaze of her friend from the Third Circle. “What did he say to you?” the acolyte demanded, sounding astonished. “Do you realize who that
was
?”
Still thunderstruck, aware of a murmuring crowd gathered in the cloisters which had been a collective witness to this strange encounter, Nhia stared at the gate through which her young lord had disappeared. “I think I do,” she whispered.
One of the Nine Sages is in the Fourth Circle today …
“He is Lihui. That was Sage Lihui. He is the youngest of the Nine Sages, the one who came to honor us today. I saw you fall at his feet and I was afraid, but he …”
Nhia’s eyes were wide as saucers. She had been right but … a Sage? A court
Sage
had stopped to raise a crippled child, to ask her name …
Perhaps we shall meet again,
he had said.
Perhaps the
ganshu
readers had never told Nhia about this encounter because it had never been meant to take place. The acolyte had trusted her with the information that a Sage was in the Temple; the collapse of her ankle might have been pure chance, but a part of her had known at whose feet she had been thrown, and had guided her tongue as she had spoken to him.
Nhia looked around at the flickering lights of candles and oil lamps of the Third Circle, at the haze of brightness surrounding the weavers of human fates, the Rulers of the Four Quarters, and smiled to herself. She had put herself in the paths of the Gods this day. Perhaps she had just taken her first fragile step beyond the veil which
ganshu
had drawn over her life and destiny.
Seven
“F or the love of all the Gods, Khailin, and for the last time—not today! The Chancellor …”
Khailin’s face set in mutinous lines. “The Chancellor! That means I won’t see you until nightfall, and
that
means I don’t get my lesson today.”
“Think of it as a day of rest,” said her father, with some impatience. Then he smoothed the frown off his forehead, and sighed. “Khailin, knowing your
hacha
letters is not going to magically—”
“I know,” Khailin said. “I know what it won’t do for me. But there is so much out there that I want to know, and that I will never know if I can’t …”
She faltered under her
“No,
sei.
No, my Lord, that is my mother’s reason for visiting the Temple.”
“Oh?” he said. “And not yours?”
“I come here to understand, not to beg for petty miracles,” Nhia said, and then bit her lip to prevent a small gasp from escaping. She had offered a discourtesy, at the least, and he could take her remark as borderline blasphemous if he chose.
“How old are you?” asked her benefactor instead, unexpectedly, after a pause which might have indicated surprise.
“I turned thirteen only a few days ago,
sei
,” Nhia said, relieved to be back on safe ground.
“I have heard the name of a young girl who comes here to talk of the spirits with the Temple acolytes,” the man said thoughtfully. “Would that be you? What is your name, child?”
“NhiNhi,” Nhia said, instinctively giving her child-name, the name her mother had called her by when she was a baby, and then flushed scarlet. “I mean … Nhia,
sei.
”
“Nhia,” he repeated, with an air of committing it to memory. “Well, Nhia, seeker of wisdom, perhaps we shall meet again.”
Nhia dared a quick, flickering look to his face. “Yes,
sei
,” she said, aware that she sounded like she was indicating an agreement to that future meeting instead of a simple response that his words seemed to demand.
He straightened, gestured to someone out of Nhia’s line of sight, and then bowed to her lightly—
bowed
to her!—and strode away in a whisper of expensive silk robes.
Nhia realized she was trembling.
When hurrying footsteps approached her a moment later, she lifted her eyes to meet the intensely curious gaze of her friend from the Third Circle. “What did he say to you?” the acolyte demanded, sounding astonished. “Do you realize who that
was
?”
Still thunderstruck, aware of a murmuring crowd gathered in the cloisters which had been a collective witness to this strange encounter, Nhia stared at the gate through which her young lord had disappeared. “I think I do,” she whispered.
One of the Nine Sages is in the Fourth Circle today …
“He is Lihui. That was Sage Lihui. He is the youngest of the Nine Sages, the one who came to honor us today. I saw you fall at his feet and I was afraid, but he …”
Nhia’s eyes were wide as saucers. She had been right but … a Sage? A court
Sage
had stopped to raise a crippled child, to ask her name …
Perhaps we shall meet again,
he had said.
Perhaps the
ganshu
readers had never told Nhia about this encounter because it had never been meant to take place. The acolyte had trusted her with the information that a Sage was in the Temple; the collapse of her ankle might have been pure chance, but a part of her had known at whose feet she had been thrown, and had guided her tongue as she had spoken to him.
Nhia looked around at the flickering lights of candles and oil lamps of the Third Circle, at the haze of brightness surrounding the weavers of human fates, the Rulers of the Four Quarters, and smiled to herself. She had put herself in the paths of the Gods this day. Perhaps she had just taken her first fragile step beyond the veil which
ganshu
had drawn over her life and destiny.
Seven
“F or the love of all the Gods, Khailin, and for the last time—not today! The Chancellor …”
Khailin’s face set in mutinous lines. “The Chancellor! That means I won’t see you until nightfall, and
that
means I don’t get my lesson today.”
“Think of it as a day of rest,” said her father, with some impatience. Then he smoothed the frown off his forehead, and sighed. “Khailin, knowing your
hacha
letters is not going to magically—”
“I know,” Khailin said. “I know what it won’t do for me. But there is so much out there that I want to know, and that I will never know if I can’t …”
She faltered under her
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