A Magic Steeped in Poison by Judy I. Lin

Author:Judy I. Lin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Feiwel & Friends

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We sneak through empty corridors until we step outside onto a landing, and the lush sight of the gardens spreads out before me, almost too much to take in. The just-opened buds I left behind in Sù have now erupted fully, some trees already flowering. Dragonflies buzz overhead, while other insects drone drowsily in the bushes. In the distance, the forest canopy sways to the breeze, but before the dense grove there are rows and rows of shrubs, waves of undulating green, dotted with blooms.

After descending the steps, we walk upon a covered pathway that winds from the monastery to the gardens, lined with brick. Above our heads, red pillars hold up the intricately painted roof. A mural of birds flies overhead in dazzling rainbow hues.

“This was my grandfather’s present to my grandmother when she accepted his offer of marriage,” Kang tells me as we stroll under the birds, the beauty of our surroundings having uplifted our moods for the moment. “The mountains of Yún are famous for their rare birds and she missed them, so he commissioned this to be built and tended to by the monks.”

“It’s as if they could come to life.” I marvel at the vibrancy of the colors. They must be retouched every year to retain such hues. But I am not one for covered paths—I need to be among the plants, soaking the sunlight into my skin.

I step off the walkway at the next corner and into the field of flowers, surrounding myself with peonies of all colors. I take a deep breath and inhale their scent, and underneath, the smell of the earth. I don’t know if all shénnóng-shī have this natural affinity with plants, or if it’s something unique to my mother’s abilities, but it is here where I am certain some part of the old gods remains with us still.

I open my eyes to see Kang still watching me from the path, an odd expression on his face.

“I feel like I am finally able to breathe,” I call out to him, unable to contain the joy I feel at being among the growing things, no longer closed off by stone walls.

Cautiously, he takes one step off the path and then hesitantly walks through the flowers, as if he is afraid he will hurt them.

“They’re not as fragile as you think.” I tease him by grabbing hold of a stalk and shaking the bloom in his direction, making him wince. “They bend but they don’t yield easily. You can raze plants to the ground, burn them, but some will always return the next year, and the year after that.”

I remember how much I cried when the orchards and the gardens burned, like I could feel the trees dying, and how Shu was at my side, even when I was sniffling in my bed at night. She would whisper what Mother told us, that they would come back, and it was easier to believe the words when they came from my sister’s lips.

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