Song of the Crimson Flower by Julie C. Dao

Author:Julie C. Dao
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group
Published: 2019-11-04T16:00:00+00:00

14

Bao struggled to sleep well for the first few nights of the journey. Each time he sank into slumber, he had feverish dreams of fields consumed by fire, scarlet flowers weeping black tears, and the parent figures who had faded in and out of his life like butterflies in summer. His mother, the person he wanted to see again the most, evaded him, lingering just beyond the edge of his mind. He felt her presence in every dream.

“Have you always slept this poorly, or is it the traveling?” Lan asked him one morning. The day had dawned fine and bright, and the company was packing up and preparing to leave.

“You heard me talking in my sleep?” he asked sheepishly. She looked fresh and pretty beside him, and he found it ironic that a spoiled minister’s daughter slept better outdoors than he did. “I must be nervous about getting to the Gray City. I can’t help but wonder if my mother’s expecting me. The dreams feel so real, and sometimes I feel I’m betraying her by traveling with Commander Wei.”

“You’re not traveling with him to declare war,” Lan pointed out. “You’re going because you need to find the witch. Your life is at stake. Don’t feel guilty about fighting for it.”

He smiled at the urgency in her voice. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Bao pretended to be engrossed in folding his bedroll, but he watched out of the corner of his eye as she swept her long hair over one shoulder and braided it with slim, graceful hands. It would make a nice painting, he thought: a girl weaving the silken strands of her hair, with her eyes on the sunrise, surrounded by the fragrant grasslands in high summer. It would surely be a painting he would treasure forever. Lan glanced at him, and he realized he had forgotten his bedroll in favor of staring at her.

“Sorry, I was just . . .” He stood up too quickly and the bedroll slipped from his hands, unraveling itself. “I wondered if you needed help with yours.”

“I think you’re the one who might need help,” she returned, laughing as she tied off her braid with a strip of cloth. She helped him fold it up, their hands brushing as she gave it to him, and Bao secured the roll to his horse, wishing he could just speak to her once without falling on his behind or dropping everything he was holding. “Will you help me up?”

Bao walked over to her horse and folded his hands, forming a step for her to use. She placed her hand on his shoulder, squeezing it in thanks when she was safely on her mare. He used a nearby boulder to mount his own steed.

“Do you have your flute?” she asked.

He checked the cloth sack hanging from his saddle. “Yes, safe and sound.”

“I was listening when you told Commander Wei the other day about all the people you had lived with,” Lan admitted, blushing. “I liked the story of the couple who gave you the flute.

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