There was a moment's silence and then the old man reached out, his frail hand searching for Li Yuan's. Yuan took it, clasping it in both of his, holding it firmly yet tenderly, his fingers stroking its back.
Wei Feng's face looked up into his, the clouded eyes turned inward. It was a drawn and ancient face, creased deeply by time and care, the skin blotched and discolored like faded parchment.
"I am dying, Yuan. My surgeons tell me otherwise, but I know it is only days now before my time here is done and I go to join my ancestors. That does not distress me. Life has been good. I have been fortunate, both in my friends and in my wives and sons. I look back and see much happiness. But I am not sad to be leaving the world above, for I have seen what is to come. Dark clouds are forming, Yuan. A great storm is coming. A storm so dark, so fierce it will be like nothing ever witnessed by the eyes of man."
A faint shudder passed through him. For a moment his face was pained, then it cleared, a look of wonder filling those ancient features.
"I have been dreaming, Yuan. Strange, powerful dreams. Again and again I have seen it..."
"Seen what, cousin Feng?"
Wei Feng laughed as if amused, but the amusement quickly faded from his lips. His voice was a hoarse whisper.
"An egg it was, Yuan. A great egg nestled in the earth. They give painted eggs to celebrate a marriage, neh? Or to invalids, to wish them a speedy recovery. But this egg was different. It was like the great egg itself—the hun tun—from which the ten thousand things came forth. Moreover, it was purest white, like a great stone, polished and shining in the light that came from nowhere. It lay there, nestled in the dark earth, and the people came from all around to see it. .It was huge, Yuan. The biggest man seemed as a child beside it. I stood there, among the crowd, watching, waiting for the egg to hatch. Across from me, behind the bloodred curtains of her sedan, a bride sat waiting in a high-backed chair. I glanced at her, studying her in silhouette, then looked back at the eg|. Between my looking away and looking back it had changed. Now it was stippled with tiny cracks that ran from base to tip. Slowly they darkened. A bell sounded—a single, perfect note, pure and high. As if at a signal, the shell shattered into a thousand tiny pieces. And now a man stood there, clothed in darkness, his back to me. He was huge, taller than any man I had ever seen."
Wei Feng paused, getting his breath, his thin, darkly blotched tongue tracing the length of his lips.
"Shall I get you more water, cousin?" Li Yuan asked, but Wei Feng shook his head.
"Let me finish." The old man swallowed dryly, then went on. "I looked across again. The curtains of the sedan were drawn back now and I could see the bride. She was smiling. The kind of smile that lasts ten thousand years. Her wedding dress hung in tatters from her bones. Nails of black iron secured her to the chair. I looked back. The man was turning. Slowly, he turned. And as he turned, all those who fell beneath his gaze dropped to the ground, writhing in agony, as if smitten by some sudden, virulent plague."
Slowly the old man's grip on Yuan's hand had tightened. Now it relaxed, a look of puzzlement coming into that ancient face.
"And the man, Wei Feng . . . did you see his face?"
Wei Feng frowned deeply, then gave the tiniest of nods. "It was him, Yuan. It was DeVore. But changed somehow. Enlarged. Made somehow greater than he was in life." The old man shuddered, then turned his head away. "I have had this dream a dozen, twenty times and each time I wake before he turns to face me fully. But I have no doubt. It was him. That profile. I could not forget it. Yes, I can see him even now, smiling, his hands outstretched, facing his bride."
Li Yuan shivered. Dreams. Was this where the first signs appeared—in dreams? And was all that followed merely a working out of what was first glimpsed in dream?
"What time is it, Yuan?"
Li Yuan turned, looking out. "It is late, Wei Feng. The afternoon is almost done."
"Ahh . . ." Wei Feng nodded. Then, unexpectedly, he drew Yuan's hand to his lips and kissed the great iron ring—the ring of power Li Yuan had inherited from his father and his father's father, the great seal of the Ywe Lung, the wheel of seven dragons, imprinted in its face.
Li Yuan frowned, disturbed by the old man's gesture. This was not something done lightly, nor on whim; he could see that by the way Wei Feng stared up at him, his sightless eyes imploring him to understand. But he understood nothing; only that this dear, kind man—this confidant and ally, this strong and friendly presence from his childhood—would soon be gone from the world. Gone, as if he'd never been.
And afterward, outside in the cold and silent corridors, he stopped and looked down, noticing for the first time that there was earth on the hem of his gown. Earth ... He lifted his hand, staring at the great iron ring, then walked on, his movements stiff with regret, knowing he would never see Wei Feng alive again.
IT was LATE afternoon before Li Yuan got back to Tongjiang. Stopping only to shower and change, he went directly to his study and sat there at his desk, his Chancellor, Nan Ho, before him, Chang Shih-sen, his secretary, at his side. Outside, in the Eastern Garden, his three wives sat beside the lotus pool, laughing and talking, their maids in attendance. For a moment he looked out, watching them, the shadow of his earlier meeting with Wei Feng forgotten, his eyes drawn to the new maid—the wet nurse—seeing how she attended to the hunger of his eight-week-old son, Kuei Jen. She was a pretty young thing, well-formed and with a delicate, pouting mouth. He felt his sex stir at the thought of what that mouth might do and looked down, a faint thrill of anticipated pleasure rippling through him.
He turned back, facing his Chancellor again, a faint smile on his lips.
"You wish me to arrange something, Chieh Hsia?" Li Yuan laughed. "Am I so transparent, Master Nan?" "You are a man, Chieh Hsia, with a man's appetites. Besides, your First Wife, Mien Shan, suggested it to me only the other day. She too, it seems, has noticed your interest."
Li Yuan studied Nan Ho a moment, then nodded. "Arrange it, Master Nan. We have but one life, neh?"
"It is done, Chieh Hsia. Now ... if we might begin." It was the kind of gentle admonishment Li Yuan had come to expect from his Chancellor. Another might have viewed it as impertinence, but he knew better. Master Nan had been with him sine/ his sixth year, first as his body servant, then as his Master of the Inner Chambers. Recognizing his qualities, Li Yuan had sidestepped the usual channels when he had come to the dragon throne, eighteen months back, and promoted the industrious Nan Ho—a man without family connections—to his most senior administrative post. It had been a bold and unexpected move and had caused ripples at the time, but he had had no reason to regret his decision. Nan Ho had proved himself the perfect statesman, attending to Li Yuan's business as if it were his own. Indeed, there was no more loyal servant in Chung Kuo. Unless it was Tolonen.
Li Yuan sat back, staring at the great stack of state papers that were piled up to the right of his desk. This was his daily burden—the great weight he had taken on at his father's death. Reports from his Hsien Ling, commissioned studies on the effects of proposed legislation, warrants to be signed or queried, petitions from senior Abave citizens, preparatory drafts for Council, Security summaries, and more. Endless, it all seemed. Enough to keep a room full of clerks busy for a week.
He half turned, looking up at Chang Shih-sen. At this customary signal, Chang handed him the first paper. For the next hour or so the great pile slowly diminished, but they were far from done when Li Yuan sat back and, with a laugh, gestured for Chang to take the rest away. He turned, facing his Chancellor.