13 Part 12

They awoke when the sun was already settling down. Lian had nothing but questions and a suite of apologies for Mei. She worried the beautiful woman was let down, terrified, or both. But Mei hid it well. When she awoke she did so with a smile, dressing quickly and asking Lian if she was hungry.

"Let's cook together," Mei had genuine giddiness in her words, and Lian convinced herself she'd read too much into the sex. Of course she has some complicated feelings on that subject, Lian told herself. Who wouldn't?

In the kitchen they cooked side by side. Mei admitted she wasn't much of a cook, and Lian admitted the best she'd ever learned how to do was to make barely edible food taste like something a human being should eat. So they bonded and laughed together as they struggled to make an elaborate meal from one of Mei's treatises on the art of cooking: roasted pork dumplings in a sweet sauce, served on top of a bed of saffron-infused rice.

It was a hopeless exercise from the start. Lian formed the dumplings too thin and too early: they were already hard by the time Mei finished coating the pork she wasn't quite sure had stayed fresh in her cool room with a sauce she'd had to adapt with a suite of incorrect ingredients. The rice burned and the saffron overpowered everything and when they laid out their travesty of a meal they had to hold each other up they were laughing so hard. They each took two bites, almost gagged, and resorted to a small pot of rice each.

"At least we don't have to clean up," Mei joked, her eyes twinkling. Lian could almost completely forget the forlorn woman she'd taken to bed just a few hours earlier.

"One of the best parts of making a quick escape," Lian confirmed.

After they ate, Lian glanced at the expensive clock – she'd never seen anyone with one that pricey before, not even the King of Wamai – and saw it was nine thirty already. But they still had time. She'd told the stableman to meet them at midnight.

Next Mei pulled out the large rucksack she'd set aside for their escape and dragged both it and Lian to her library. She'd already filled the bag with a few sets of clothes, her purse, some preferred snacks for the road. She had, she explained to Lian, left space for a few books.

"I know, I know, it's not the kind of thing you need on the road, but we'll need something to do while we're riding. And then once we get wherever we go, it'll be good to have a book or two to keep us company."

"If you say so," Lian admitted playfully.

"Ok good. Then you can help me pick which books."

"Umm…" Lian was even less qualified to act as a literary critic than she was to wax poetic about art. She could read, had even read some big, complicated, important books in her day, but she never did it for fun the way Mei seemed to. In fact the only books Lian had read and remembered enjoying were… "Do you have any of Mao's fables?"

Mei looked at her surprised, her smile from their cooking misadventure appearing almost at once. "You like those old things?"

"Yeah," Lian scratched behind her neck in embarrassment. "I read them all the time in school."

"I do have a copy…" Mei began searching the rows and rows of books. "Somewhere."

Lian helped her look and eventually spotted an old, beat up copy of the children's stories. It went in the bag.

"Now what else?" Mei asked.

"You're the expert, you pick."

Mei bit her lip and looked all over the room. Her eyes lit up and she pounced on a book near the bottom of a pile scattered on the floor. Her face beamed as she picked it up and approached Lian to put the book in the bag.

"The Pirates of Pan's Tsan," she practically hugged the thick book that took up most of the rest of the space. "One of my absolute favorites."

Lian looked in the bag. "Probably only room for one more."

Mei nodded and looked around again, but nothing jumped out at her. Lian offered a suggestion.

"What about that one you really liked? The Story of Pan and Zu?"

Mei's face quieted slightly, before she returned to her smile and corrected Lian. "Zan and Zu."

"Yeah. You said you loved that one."

"I do, it's just… it has a sad ending."

"So?"

But Lian already knew why Mei hesitated. They both knew. Lian used her body to withdraw her comment, but Mei still went straight to the book, in a revered place in the bookshelf, and put it dutifully in the bag.

Lian spotted something in the corner of the room behind one of Mei's chairs, partially draped in a silk cloth. She walked over and pulled the cover away to reveal a kanbo, a traditional lute with five strings and a neck that could be either laid flat across the lap or held upright.

"Do you play?" Lian asked.

"Oh," Mei looked unimpressed. "Yeah, I guess so. Not very well."

"You sing too?"

Mei blushed, "Even worse than I play the kanbo."

Lian picked up the instrument – it was covered in a very thin patchwork of dust, and it was probably terribly out of tune. But they had the time, and Lian wanted to ask for it. "Would you play for me?"

Mei looked at Lian for a long few seconds, the grins on both their face growing, until finally Mei broke into a large smile and said, "Ok."

She picked up the kanbo, took the books off the chair, then sat down and laid it across her lap. She strummed the strings once and revealed a terribly out of tune instrument. Her face revolted and Lian laughed. Mei tuned it quickly and delicately, then paused for a moment before deciding what she would play.

"This is an old ballad, one of the first songs I ever learned how to play."

Her voice was timid, not strong or all that melodious, but the kanbo matched it, soft notes plucked on the strings, spiraling up and down the neck of the instrument as her voice wandered along with the words.

Blackbird swaying in the summer breeze

Building a nest for all to see

As I swing by, you and I are swaying in the moment by the sea

Blackbirds cry and blackbirds fly

You and I are caught in the ocean's sudden breeze

Blackbird soaring in the sky of blue

Singing a song for all to hear

As we lay down, we can always build our nest right here

You will cry and you will fly

And the bird is still circling in the cloudless sky

Blackbird walking along the dirty ground

Searching for a place to birth an heir

As she goes low, we will always strive to meet her in the air

I will cry and I will fly

Our heirs in the ground and the bird in our wings

Lian could picture it. Mei at her side in some dusty inn or far away campsite, the woman singing in a voice not exquisite enough to attract passerbys, but perfect to Lian in every way. They would have just had a fight about something inconsequential, and Mei would play – not to quell the fight, but out of habit – and Lian would fall in love with her all over again. She could imagine that voice at her side every night into the future. Even if they couldn't bring that particular kanbo with her.

"Sorry," Mei apologized. "Like I said, I'm not the best singer."

"It was lovely," Lian didn't want to admit out loud just how lovely she thought it was. She'd save that for their first fight.

The clock struck ten o'clock, and they both realized what that meant. It was a solid half an hour to the Golden Slumbers, and another half hour from there to Mei's exit point. An hour walking through the field to the meeting place with their horses. It was time to leave.

Mei looked hopeful, and Lian made sure she mirrored that emotion back. This tiny glimpse of what life with Mei could be like was more than enough to build Lian's optimism. She would get the woman through all this. She was certain.

Lian grabbed her own bag she'd left at the door to the house, and let Mei take one last look around the home. She looked lest wistful than Lian imagined she might have been. I guess she never had the chance to build a connection to a home, Lian told herself. Just like me.

"Let's go," Mei said, her bag over her shoulder and a hat on her head.

"Yes. Let's."