River of Betrayal by J D Bowman

Author:J D Bowman [Bowman, J D]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Heads and Tails Publishing
Published: 2019-12-11T16:00:00+00:00

8

The River Runs Red

The following Tuesday, Jiang was summoned to the housekeeper’s room.

“You are to deliver this letter for Master Ming.” Chao-xing knew Jiang could read and was capable of navigating the busy streets of Chinatown. Now Jiang was relegated to running errands for the household in addition to her regular responsibilities. “Deliver this to Qi. She has a shop called the Emporium of Wondrous Power.”

“I have seen her shop,” Jiang said.

“Good. You will deliver the letter and wait for a response. But do not tarry. You still have work to do.” Chao-xing looked down, dismissing her.

Jiang tucked the letter into her sleeve. She wasn’t one to overlook her good fortune at being able to leave the house. Even if it meant she would work longer today—she was pleased.

Her steps were almost light as she hurried along the streets of the city and, ultimately, to Qi’s shop. She hoped to see Baozhai again, even if only to say hello. But the old woman was nowhere in sight. Her small shop looked as though it had closed. Continuing her errand, Jiang entered the front door of Qi’s tinker shop. There was a desk in the corner, covered with papers and metal parts.

“Hello?” she called.

A young woman with ebony hair, tied in a long braid that fell down the side of her head to her waist, and a leather apron came out of an adjoining room. “Yes? May I help you?”

“I am looking for Mistress Qi,” Jiang said. She wasn’t sure how to address the woman she sought, so she opted for deference and respect.

“I am Qi,” the woman said easily. “How may I be of assistance?”

“I bring a letter from my master, Ming. He asks me to wait while you read it, and to do him the honor of responding.” Jiang bowed as she handed over the letter.

Qi’s face went strangely blank, almost immobile, but she took the letter and broke the seal.

Qi read the letter and looked up at her. “One moment. I must speak with someone before I can pen a response. It will not take long.”

“Of course,” Jiang bowed again. This was the famous Qi. She was feminine and powerful and moved like a panther. Jiang envied her grace and ease.

Qi disappeared into the room she’d come from, leaving Jiang to look around. There were tables and shelves full of parts, gadgets, oil cans, tools, and bins full of small gears. Jiang could practically feel a screwdriver in her hand as she took in the room.

She moved to the table nearest the front door, her eye on the machine lying on the table. It appeared to be a walker of some sort, designed to make a man stronger. Jiang walked around the table, admiring the workmanship. It was beautiful, like Baozhai’s arm, and crafted by someone who took pride in every aspect of their work.

She noticed a piece of parchment with writing on it. The writing was Nushu, the language of the women of the north. The language of her mother.

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