Soundless (11 page)

OUR GUIDE LEADS US
around and in between buildings, taking a path so convoluted that I soon lose all sense of where the market is. We leave it far behind us along with a lot of the more populated areas—which makes me uneasy. This stranger spoke of saving us from danger, but is it possible we're simply walking into a trap?

At last, we reach what appears to be the opposite side of the township. I can see the towering wooden wall in the distance, but it isn't our final destination. Instead, our guide takes us to a squat two-story building with minimal decoration. Painted characters on the front read:
Red Myrtle Travelers' Inn.
With a quick gesture, we are beckoned around the back side of the building, to a nondescript door.

After glancing around to make sure we're alone, our guide pushes back her hood, and I am surprised to see she is our age and exceptionally pretty. She opens the door and starts to step through, pausing when she notices we don't follow.
It's okay
, she says.
No one will hurt you here.

Who are you?
I ask.

And what is this place?
Li Wei demands.

My name is Xiu Mei
, the girl replies.
I work at this inn. I am its . . .
The word she signs isn't one I know. Seeing our confusion, intrigue lights her features.
Your language must be different. Come in, and we will get something to write with. Don't sign until we're secure.

Li Wei and I exchange uncertain glances. I honestly don't know if we can trust anyone in this strange place, but at least Xiu Mei isn't openly shunning us like the vendors in the market. There is something open and disarming about her face, and the fact that she can use our language—or something like it—goes a long way toward providing a glimpse of order in what's otherwise a thoroughly chaotic situation. After a moment of hesitation, we follow her.

We step into a kitchen like no kitchen I've ever seen. Steam bellows from pots on a hot stove, making the small space hot and stuffy. I'm assaulted with smells I've never encountered before, probably from foods I've never encountered before. This isn't like our kitchen at home, with only a scarce handful of ingredients to carefully parse out. Here, two women and one boy scurry busily around, working with a vast array of vegetables and meats, sprinkling them with powders I've never seen. I feel my mouth begin to water and see a similar hunger in Li Wei's awestruck expression.

And, of course, there are sounds. So many sounds, most of which I don't have names for. Pots and pans are tossed heedlessly
around, dishes set down without ceremony. Food dropped into hot skillets of oil makes a noise that leaves me staring, one never described by Feng Jie. Mixed with all this is the sound of human conversation, each of the workers chattering away as they go about their tasks. One of them sees us and gives us a polite nod, then says something directly to Xiu Mei. She smiles and answers back, surprising me. She can hear and is fluent in both spoken and hand communication.

I have little time to ponder that before she leads us out of the kitchen and into a much larger room. It is filled with tables, some of which sit out in the open and others of which are tucked away in corners, concealed by gauzy curtains. Scattered tapestries and scrolls adorn the walls, along with a few well-displayed pieces of pottery. Most of the people sitting at the tables are men, and their clothing covers a vast range of styles and colors. Some are dressed as humbly as Li Wei and I. Others rival the silk merchant we followed into the township. Aside from one older woman sitting with a large group in the open, the only other female besides Xiu Mei and me appears to work here. She is dressed in silk and has her back to us as she delivers food and drink.

I've read about inns in the archives, but Li Wei and I have no personal experience with any place like this. How could we? Who visits our village? Xiu Mei points us toward one of the private tables. We pass a grizzled man standing by the door with arms crossed over his chest. His face is scarred, and there is a tough, no-nonsense air about him. He watches Xiu Mei closely but makes no other movement toward us.

We sit down, and Xiu Mei draws the curtain around us. The smoky fabric is wondrous, sheer, and silky. I immediately find myself touching it. From the outside, it makes seeing the table difficult, but from this side, we can make out most of the goings on in the room. Although I am still nervous about what we've stumbled into, I nod politely and tell Xiu Mei our names.

It's nice to meet you. Wait here
, she says. She darts away to a podium across the room, returning with paper and ink. When she addresses us again, her face is eager and curious.

We can talk in here, behind the curtain—but don't let anyone else see you sign unless I say so. Why are you different from the others?
she asks.
Why is your language different?

What others?
I ask, wondering if I've missed something.

The others who can't hear. They also speak with their hands, but a few of your words aren't the same. They're like . . .

I don't follow her next sign, which kind of proves her point. Using her ink and paper, she writes out: . . .
variations of each other.

I don't know the people you mean
, I tell her.
As far as we know, we are the only ones from our village to have ever come here.

Xiu Mei's eyebrows rise at that.
Where is your village?

On top of the mountain. The largest mountain
, I amend.

Her face tells me our sign for
mountain
isn't the same, and I draw it for her. It is a pattern we continue throughout our conversation. She is very quick to pick up on the differences, however, and soon needs little help.

I didn't know there were people up there
, she says.
They're all like you? All deaf?

Yes
, I say, not bothering to enlighten her about my state.

The curtain rustles, and the grizzled man from the door appears. He says something to Xiu Mei, his voice deep and harsh. I find him intimidating, but Xiu Mei seems unfazed. She answers back cheerily, and after a brief exchange, the man returns to his post.

Who was that?
asks Li Wei.

My father
, she says.
He wanted to know who you were. He is nervous about me talking to you, but he doesn't agree with the . . .

Again, she writes out the word when we don't understand it:
decree.
Seeing our confused expressions, she explains,
There is a decree against your people—or, well, people like you. Those who can't hear. A number of them live here in the township, but we are discouraged from communicating with them or doing business with them.

Do you know where they came from?
I ask eagerly. If there are others like us, those who have made a home in this strange place, I'm suddenly hopeful they might be able to help us.

No
, she says.
The ones I've talked to have been reluctant to describe their past. Mostly I speak to them in order to learn the hand signs. I have an interest in languages. It was my specialty back when I was trying to get into one of the schools in the capital.

If you aren't supposed to speak to us, why did you pull us aside back in the market?
Li Wei asks suspiciously.

It was obvious you two were lost
, she says.
Outsiders. I watched you using the signs and was intrigued that yours were a little different from the ones I know. When I overheard some soldiers talking about finding two people who matched your description, I knew you needed help. It's so strange that there are more of you—more without hearing. I wonder if all your ancestors started out with the same sign language and then it changed over time? That would explain why some signs are different.
She strikes me as someone whose academic curiosity consumes her so much that it frequently takes her off-topic.

You still didn't explain
why
you helped
, Li Wei points out, steering her back.

She laughs.
I suppose not. Sorry. This is all just so fascinating. I helped because . . . well, part of it's just curiosity. But also, my father and I aren't supporters of the king's regime. Things weren't so bad with the old king, but when Jianjun came to power, much changed.

Jianjun?
I ask.
Is that the current king?
We've always known a king ruled in Beiguo, but our village long lost track of the successors.

Xiu Mei nods.
Yes. He treats the army badly, which is why my father resigned—making a lot of enemies when he did. And then Jianjun stopped letting women into the academies, so we left the capital and ended up here in this poor excuse for a city.

Li Wei's eyes widen.
This place is huge!

This makes her laugh again.
You really have come from the top of a mountain. This is nothing. There are bigger, grander
cities out there, ones where you can go far if you have the right skills and connections. But for a dishonored veteran and his scholar daughter? The options are limited. The man who owns this place needs a bodyguard and someone who can balance the books. He's not a friendly man, but at least he doesn't care that I'm a girl.

It must be interesting work
, I observe politely.

Very much so
, she agrees.
We see people from all over Beiguo—even from outside of it. Every day some group is off to a new destination. Every day someone new comes through our doors. Today it's you. What brought you from the top of your mountain?

We hoped we could speak to the line keeper about getting more food to our village
, I explain.

Her puzzled expression answers before she does.
I don't know anything about that. I never even knew your village existed. And who is this line keeper?

The curtain shifts again, and the woman who was serving the tables appears before us. Tall and willowy, she is dressed in silk, but I'm unprepared for it up close. Skirts of purest white—a color rare in everyday dress in our village—are covered by a long robe of the richest green silk imaginable. It is like spring has been spun into fabric. Cranes embroidered in golden thread dance across her robe; their glitter reflects in the sparkling golden pins that hold her hair into two buns. Her hair is equally incredible, the color of sunlight, and her green eyes sparkle. I've never seen features like that, not in our village of dark hair and eyes.
Some sort of red paint makes her lips shine, and a dusting of powder gives her skin a fair, delicate hue. She is like someone from a story, and she makes me forget what we were talking about.

Beside her, I feel small, dirty, and plain. And that's
before
I see how Li Wei is looking at her. His eyes are wide, as though that is the only way he could possibly take in so much beauty. After several awed seconds, he clamps his mouth shut to stop himself from gaping. I'm pretty sure I looked exactly the same way when I saw him emerge covered in gold from the mines so long ago.

She smiles at both of us, lingering on Li Wei a beat longer than me, before turning to Xiu Mei. She speaks, and her voice is high and light, reminding me of the birds I've heard singing. Xiu Mei smiles in return, speaks briefly, and then turns toward us.
Lu Zhu is curious about you
, she signs.
Don't worry—she's used to me speaking with the others like you. She won't tell.

Is that her real hair?
Li Wei asks.

Xiu Mei says something to Lu Zhu, making both women laugh. Li Wei blushes, guessing the joke was at his expense.
Yes
, says Xiu Mei.
She comes from a land outside of Beiguo, and all her people are like that. She works here now, just as I do. She's come to see if you want dinner or rice wine, but I'm guessing neither of you has money.

We shake our heads. Xiu Mei opens her mouth to speak, and then a loud noise draws their attention back toward the center of the room. Some of the men in the center have begun moving the heavy wooden tables. Lu Zhu shakes her head in dismay, and Xiu Mei looks annoyed as she gets to her feet.

What's going on?
I ask.

They're playing that stupid game again
, she says.
I need to go and make sure no one gets hurt by the . . .

I don't understand the last word she says because it's another unknown sign. She hurries over to where a group of men is huddled around one of the tables. Li Wei and I exchange puzzled glances and then rise at the same time to see what is happening.

A man with a gray-streaked black beard holds a small box in front of him. He lifts the lid, and everyone leans forward. I need to get closer to see and am small enough to slip forward between two larger men. My breath catches when I discover what's in the box: a scorpion. It's a little smaller than my hand, its carapace gleaming black. The man says something and nods to a boy standing near him. The boy produces a small leather bag and spills its contents onto the table: a pile of gleaming gold coins.

Immediately, there is a flurry of action among the men. They begin speaking at once and offering forward coins of their own, as well as other items. One man hands over a ring. Another has an exquisitely painted fan. After some deliberation, the old man gestures toward a tall young man not much older than Li Wei and me. This causes even more excitement. The assistant begins collecting the various offerings and handing out small pieces of paper that he scrawls small characters on. Leaning forward, I'm able to read a few of them. The slips record what item was offered and then say either
for
or
against
.

When all the items have been gathered, the tall chosen man holds out his hand. Silence falls. To my horror, the bearded man
lifts out the scorpion and sets it on the chosen one's outstretched hand. After several tense moments, the bearded man nods, and the silence shatters, making me jump. Everyone gathered starts making noise. Some of it consists of words, some consists of hums and cries and other sounds I don't know the word for. It grows to a frenzied, uncomfortable level, almost making me want to retreat. But I'm too curious about what's happening.