Neither woman attempted to cover her nakedness, but instead they stared at Ai Ling with their mouths agape.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt. My friend and I are lost. We need help.” Ai Ling spoke too loudly and wrung her hands.
The two women looked at each other, then back toward Ai Ling. They murmured between themselves, but Ai Ling caught at least one word: outsider. The pale woman pointed a slender hand toward the path. Go. Follow. Ai Ling could gather that much.
She felt a little doubtful. “Is that the way back to the Kingdom of Xia?” Both women furrowed their brows. Finally the pregnant one pointed again with emphasis to the path. Ai Ling pursed her lips, unsure if they knew the way or just wanted to be rid of her.
“My friend is behind that pine tree.” Ai Ling pointed to the large tree with the wide, gnarled trunk. “He’s a man, so—” She did not get a chance to finish the sentence. Both women let out loud shrieks.
They scrambled up the far bank of the pond, speaking rapidly to each other. She caught the words man, hide, and far. They vanished into a thicket of trees before she could utter a reply.
She understood modesty, but had not expected them to run screaming into the trees.
“I guess you can come out now,” she called.
She turned and found Chen Yong standing on the path.
“They must have understood the word ‘man.’” He chuckled, surprising her. “You understood their speech?”
Ai Ling lifted her shoulders. “Some words—but I seemed to get the gist of their conversation anyway.”
“They spoke in women’s tongue,” Chen Yong said.
She joined him on the path. “What do you mean, women’s tongue?”
“When I saw them in the pond, it brought to mind a place I had read about in The Book of Lands Beyond.”
Ai Ling nodded.
“There’s a passage about the Land of Women in the book.”
“You think we are in the Land of Women? But the darkerskinned one was with child,” she said.
“Yes, but—”
Chen Yong did not get a chance to continue before Ai Ling slapped her hands together. “But they become pregnant by bathing in the golden pond.”
He laughed. “Now you know why they ran off in such terror at the mention of a man.”
“If I had known . . . I don’t know what I would’ve done if I had realized.” She paused. “Other than not get into that pond.”
There was a breath before Chen Yong roared with laughter.
She laughed with him, her cheeks feeling hot, but she didn’t mind.
“And any male child never survived past three years. I remember that passage,” Chen Yong said.
“I cannot imagine a world without men. I envy the men in our society for their freedom at times. I often think that the rules favor your gender, yet it wouldn’t be the same without . . .” She trailed off, feeling foolish.
“The book also mentioned a Land of Men. Like you, I can’t imagine such a place.”
“No one would serve you tea or prepare your clothes each morning,” she teased.
“I know I’m very traditional in thought. But you have to believe that I value women for more than their roles within the inner quarters.” He struck the dirt path below them with his walking stick, then stopped and turned to her. “You’ve helped to open my eyes in many ways.”
She lifted her chin and smiled at him, somehow willing her face not to flush scarlet. They stopped at a stream to refill their flasks. They washed their hands and faces and sliced up the fruits the Lady in White had given them. Ai Ling nearly choked on the last bite of apple when she heard the trot of an animal approach. Chen Yong jumped to his feet, his sword drawn.
A man emerged, riding a white horse with red stripes like licks of flame on its flanks. Its mane was red as well, the color of the skies at dusk. Its wide eyes glinted gold in the sunlight.
The man had only one arm. As he drew closer, what she thought was a mark in his wide brow emerged as a third vertical eye.
A two-headed bird, vermilion and gold, perched on his shoulder. The heads sang to each other in crisp, sweet tones. The man pulled in the reins and stopped a short distance from them. She saw there was a bow strung across his back, and a scabbard rested against his hip. But he did not look anxious, and his hand did not move toward the sword hilt. She wondered how he used a bow with just one arm.
“You are lost,” the man said. It was a statement, not a question. His accent was strong, but the words came through clearly.
Chen Yong stepped forward, not lowering his weapon. “We’re from the Kingdom of Xia, trying to make our way back there,” he said.
“Xia.” The man pronounced their kingdom’s name differently, but it seemed he had heard of it. “You are Xian?” The voice was higher than what she was used to, his skin smooth like a young boy’s, the eyebrows thin and delicate.
“Can you guide us back?” she asked.
Chen Yong turned to her with a hard stare, a barely audible hiss escaping from his lips.
The man tilted his head. “To go back by foot is impossible,” he replied. “I have never encountered people of Xia. I have only heard tales from elders. We may find answers in my city. If you follow?”
Ai Ling nodded even as Chen Yong drew her aside, his gaze never leaving the strange man. “How do we know he speaks the truth?” he asked in a low voice.
“He appears willing to help . . . is civil. It’s a risk we have to take,” she said. “We could wander for years and never reach home.”
Chen Yong’s jaws were set in a rigid line, his reluctance to follow this stranger obvious. “Can you read his thoughts?”
Her eyes widened. “You jest.”
His silence was answer enough. She sighed, turned a fraction so her back was to the strange man on the horse, and flung her spirit toward him. She connected, sensed the anticipation from him. The chief will be much pleased.
“It’s fine. Just as I said.” Ai Ling strode over to the man. Stubbornness prevented her from glancing back to see if Chen Yong followed. Then he was by her side, his stare so intense she thought she felt the heat on her face. She dared not look at him.
The man doubled back onto the path they had already traveled. He kept his horse at a slow canter, so she and Chen Yong could keep the pace. No one spoke. The dense foliage they had passed earlier had changed to tall birch trees, their trunks glowing silver, the limbs and leaves towering above them.
Confused, Ai Ling glanced back. The pebbled path they had walked less than an hour earlier had turned to a narrow one covered in moss.
“I noticed it, too,” Chen Yong said. “The landscape is changing around us, in a way that shouldn’t be possible. I don’t think we could find the pond where the women bathed if we tried.”
How would they ever return from this strange world?
The quiet was soon broken by the triumphant trills of the two-headed bird as it took flight, leaving the perch that was its master’s shoulder.
“Where does your bird fly to?” Chen Yong asked, one hand shading his face as he gazed upward.
The one-armed man did not respond but pulled the bow from his back and rested it against his thigh. Ebony in color, the bow curved in a smooth elegant arc. He drew an arrow from his leather quiver—also black, with bright crimson feathers on the end. He notched the arrow with his one hand, drawing the bowstring taut with his mouth.
Ai Ling gaped. The arrow flew among the trees. Chen Yong stepped forward with his sword raised. The one-armed man jumped from his horse and into the woods, returning with something that resembled a hare, only its short fur was a pale lavender. His arrow jutted from the creature’s midsection.
“My bird hunts, as do I,” he said. He removed the arrow and slung the carcass into his saddlebag.