Soundless (7 page)

A tug at the joining rope makes me open my eyes. I look over at Li Wei, and his face is strong and calm as he meets my gaze. Although he can't speak, the conviction in his expression tells me what he would say:
We can do this. I need you. You are still that brave girl who climbed the shed.

I take a deep breath and try to force calm. He does need me. Zhang Jing needs me too. After several more tense seconds, I give a short nod to let him know I'm ready to keep going. He smiles encouragingly—one of those rare, wonderful smiles that transforms his whole face—and we continue with our descent.

It is slow, painstaking work. We have to be careful of every move we make, and more rocks follow those initial ones. Some are avoidable. In some cases, we find it's best just to freeze and cling to the side, waiting for the rocks to pass. We work out a system of tugs with our adjoining ropes and head gestures to help us determine what to do.

When we take our first true break, I'm unsure how much time has passed. But the moon has gone, and sunrise is now lighting our way. We come across a relatively flat piece of rock jutting out and leading to a shallow cave. Li Wei tests the rock ledge and deems it safe for us to sit on and rest as he gathers up excess line and prepares for the remainder of the climb. I exhale and stretch my legs, surprised at how tense my muscles have grown.
The top of the mountain, where we started, looks impossibly far away. Glancing down, though, the bottom is farther still, hidden in mist. For a moment, I am dizzy as I contemplate my position here, suspended between heaven and earth. Li Wei's hands move in my periphery.

Don't do that
, he says.

Do what?

He gestures around.
That. Looking up and down. It will overwhelm you.

You talk like a seasoned climber
, I tease.
Like you do this all the time.

I've done similar things in the mines—nothing on this scale.
After a moment, he gives me a grudging smile.
You're doing well.

Better than you expected?
I ask.

He looks me over, his gaze lingering a bit longer than it needs to.
No. I knew you could do it.

I nod in acknowledgment and glance around, trying to do as he says and not focus on the top or bottom of the climb. Here, on this small perch, I'm struck by how still everything is. Back in the village during the day, there was always an abundance of sound. Here, there is very little, and I enjoy the small respite. Is this silence? No, I decide, thinking back to the writings I read. Silence is no sound—the way I lived before. This is merely quiet, because some noises still come through to me. The sound of my feet shifting on the rock. Faint wind blowing past us.

What is it like?
Li Wei asks, his face solemn once more.
Being able to hear?

I shake my head.
It's too hard to explain.

Why?
he asks.

Even describing it . . . well, it uses words you wouldn't understand. It's like another language.

Then use words I do know
, he suggests.

I think long and hard before answering.
Imagine if everything you saw, your entire life, was always a shade of gray. Then one day you blink, and suddenly you see the world as it is with all its colors. Blue, red, yellow. How would you react? How would you handle literally not having the words to describe what you're experiencing?

Some things don't need words
, he says after a moment, and I wonder if he's still talking about sound.

Everything needs a word
, I insist.
We need to know how to describe the world. Otherwise we'd fall into ignorance.

Spoken like someone who spends her days organizing and cataloging everything. Sometimes it's enough to just feel. You don't have to label and articulate all that's around you.

I roll my eyes.
Spoken like a barbarian.

He laughs at that, and there's a warmth in it that makes me smile. We split one of the lunch packs and then begin climbing down once more. There are a few more close calls as small stones skitter down the cliff. I'm able to warn him with tugs of the rope, but our system is cumbersome and delayed. A couple of times, when he clears his throat or coughs, my attention is immediately drawn to him by those sounds. It gives me new appreciation for how our ancestors used to communicate with their mouths:
speech. The concept was always foreign to me when I read about it, but now I see how much simpler it would be if there was a sound I could make to warn Li Wei of the next avalanche.

Morning gives way to noon, and we see a huge plateau jutting out of the mountain, promising another break. Beyond it, I can actually make out the ground at the mountain's base. Hope surges in me that we might pull this off after all. Then I hear the sound signaling another avalanche. I look up, and it is not a small scattering of stones like we've encountered before. Large boulders are tumbling down toward us. They create vibrations in the cliff face that even Li Wei can sense, though he doesn't immediately ascertain the direction.

I have no time to tug and point. Clinging to my rope, I push off with my feet and swing toward him, knocking him off the cliff face. He loses his footing but keeps hold of the rope. For a terrifying moment, we are both swinging in the air, with only our grip on the ropes to keep us from falling. A cascade of rocks begins tumbling beside us, far too close. The sound created is soft at first, almost like an exhalation of breath, but soon grows into a roar as the stones increase in number. One of them strikes my head, and I wince. The instinct to shield myself with my hands is overwhelming, but letting go means certain death. Both of us scramble for footholds, trying to move out of the way of the growing rock fall.

Li Wei swings hard and almost manages to land on another small outcropping, but the added weight of being tied to me throws him off. A second attempt also fails. He tries yet again,
harder this time, and is at last able to land on the edge. With his footing secure, he scuttles back and tugs me toward him with the adjoining rope. My feet make contact with the ledge, and he pulls me forward into his arms, leaving us cowering against the mountain as a full-on avalanche of boulders cascades beside us. The falling rocks keep triggering more avalanches, and it is spectacular and terrifying to watch.

When it finally ends, we are both shaking, shocked by how close we came to being caught in the full force of it. I let him hold me a few moments longer before reluctantly breaking the embrace. He gestures to my cheek.

You're bleeding
, he says.

I vaguely recall the rock that hit me and am now aware of a stinging sensation. I lightly touch the side of my face with my fingertips and see blood when I remove them. I dab again and see less blood.
It's nothing
, I say.
It's already stopping.

Here, let me clean it.
He pulls his sleeve over his hand and reaches for me. I shrink back.

What are you doing?
I ask.

Wiping up the blood
, he says.

Not with that filthy shirt!
I retort.
And I told you, I'm fine. No need to stain your shirt even more.

I'm a barbarian, remember?
His grin fades as concern returns to his features.
Perhaps we should rest longer.

For me?
I ask indignantly. I get to my feet and hope I'm not still shaking.
There's nothing wrong with me. I'm not some delicate flower. I'm ready to go now.

Fei, it's okay if we take a break
, he says.
There's no need to let your pride get the best of you. Again.

Again?
I ask, unable to ignore the barb. I gesture imperiously to the rope.
Just fix it so that we can keep going.

He gives me a mock bow.
Yes, apprentice.

Tension fills the air between us as he readjusts our line to set us on a new trajectory down. My hands hurt badly, even with the gloves, but fear and pride compel me to keep my grip through the discomfort. We continue rappelling down, and though we are still cautious, both of us move a little more quickly. That last avalanche was too close a call, and we're eager to make it to the plateau I'd noticed earlier and finally get a real rest. Closer and closer it gets, and despite Li Wei's warnings, I find myself sneaking peeks down. I don't know what I was expecting in the lands near the mountain's bottom, but the terrain below us looks similar to what we left behind on the mountain's top, filled with green, dense forest. The only difference is that from this height, it is all in miniature, almost as though we're looking down at an incredibly lifelike map.

When we are level with some of the trees growing on the plateau, I hear another boulder above us—in Li Wei's direction. I tug the joining rope and nod. He scurries to get out of the way, but in his haste, his grip on the rope slips.

He loses his foothold, and all I can do is gasp as he starts to fall. The rope around me snaps tight, pulled taut around my torso by his added weight, cutting off my ability to get air. I jerk forward, struggling to keep my grip firmly on the rope.
Gravity wants to take me down with him, and the rope begins to slip through my fingers.

I fight for breath, watching the terror on Li Wei's face as he is suspended in the air, hanging only by the rope connecting him to me. Panicked, he kicks wildly, reaching out with his hands and feet to make contact with something—anything. He is too far from his original rope or the cliff face to truly touch them, and his frantic flailing only makes it more difficult for me to cling to my rope. It's slipping through my hands, bit by bit. Soon I will be at its end, and there will be nothing to stop us both from falling to our deaths.

Gritting my teeth, I squeeze my fingers tightly around the rope, refusing to give another inch. More wild maneuvering from Li Wei throws me off balance, causing me to lose my foothold on the cliff. I cling to the rope for dear life now, but I can see it is a losing battle. Li Wei's weight is too great, his pull on the adjoining line too strong. Pain sears my stomach as the rope digs into me, stretched as taut as it can possibly get. My hands slip again down the rope, and I struggle to draw breath until—

—in seconds, it's all gone.

The pressure is gone. There is no more pull, no impossible weight for me to fight against. I can breathe again.

Because the rope has snapped, and Li Wei is falling.

There is nothing to save him, and I can only watch in horror as he falls the rest of the way down, his eyes wide with terror. I hear my second human scream in as many days. This time, it's my own.

THE SCREAM DIES FROM MY LIPS,
and for a heartbeat, I hang there, stunned at what has just happened. I take in the awful sight of Li Wei's body lying inert on the plateau below. A million things go through my mind, all that I should have said to him . . . and never did. A moment later, I spur myself to action. Moving quickly—maybe too quickly—I rappel the rest of the way down, knowing I'm being reckless but too anxious to get to his side. A few rocks skitter after me but nothing else significant. When I hit the ground, I run over to his side, afraid of what I will find.

He can't be dead, he can't be dead
, I keep telling myself.

He can't be.

The first thing I see is that he is breathing, and I nearly collapse in relief. I gently tilt his face toward mine, and his eyes flutter open. He looks a bit addled, but his pupils are normal size, and it's clear he recognizes me. My heart nearly bursts. He starts to lift his hands to speak, but I shake my head.

Don't
, I sign to him.
We need to assess the extent of your injuries.

Carefully, I help him sit up. I make him test the functionality of each limb, and amazingly, nothing appears to be broken. There is some tenderness in the foot he landed on, but he's still able to put weight on it. Rather than falling straight down, he slid a fair amount of the way on the rocky wall. It saved him from the brunt of the impact but tore up his exposed skin and his clothes. If he'd come down at a different angle or if we'd been just a little higher in elevation, I know this story wouldn't have had a happy ending. As it is, it's clear Li Wei is still in a lot of pain, though, as usual, he's trying to appear tough.

An outcropping of rock provides a protective roof, and I decide this area will be our camp. Although the afternoon skies are clear, there's a psychological safety to being under some cover—especially if any more rocks come falling. I leave Li Wei resting there and venture out into some of the scraggly trees nearby in search of wood, so that we can make a fire when night comes. I have to break a few larger limbs in half, but for the most part, there is an ample supply of fallen branches. When I have an armful of firewood, I decide to search for a water source to refill our canteens.

I haven't gone very far when I hear the snapping of a branch behind me. I spin around in alarm, relaxing when I see Li Wei. Surprised, he asks,
How did you know I was here?

I heard you
, I tell him, briefly setting my firewood down.
What are you doing here? You're supposed to be resting.

I'm no delicate flower
, he teases. I raise an eyebrow at that, and he explains, more seriously,
I was worried. You were gone awhile.

I wanted to find some water.

Our supply will last a little longer
, he says.
Wait until I can come look with you.

I nearly snap back that he's coddling me again, but after his near-death experience, I find it difficult to chastise him. It's still hard for me to shake the pall cast by those terrifying moments, when I saw his body lying motionless on the rocks below. Looking him over now, I see that his concern isn't because he thinks I'm incapable but simply because he cares about me. That realization stirs up the already conflicting emotions within me, and I avert my eyes.

Okay
, I say.
Let's go back to camp.

Back by the shelter of the cliff, we each eat one of the lunch packs and try not to think about how little food there is left. The terrain on this plateau seems as inhospitable to growing food as our own village, so it's unlikely we're going to find anything in the wild. We'll just have to wait until we get to the bottom of the mountain. Surely the township must have a reliable way of sustaining its food supply.

This is good
, Li Wei says, gesturing to the food in front of him.
Almost worth going on this crazy climb and getting myself killed.

You shouldn't joke about that
, I say. But it's hard not to smile.
You know . . . that's why I climbed the shed that day. For food.

He tilts his head curiously.
What do you mean?

His gaze holds mine, and I try not to blush as I explain.
There was this story going around about how there was a stash of food being hidden on the roof. I think it was just something the older kids made up to tease us, but I believed it. Zhang Jing was sick at the time, and I thought she'd feel better if she had more to eat. So I climbed up to see if the story was true.

And you found out that the only true thing was that the shed really was in bad shape
, he finishes. I nod, expecting him to laugh at me. But he only asks,
Why didn't you ever tell me this before? I always thought you did it for the thrill of it.

I know
, I say.
And I've always known. . . . I've always known you thought I was brave because of it, even back then. I guess I liked you thinking of me that way. I was afraid of you knowing the truth.

That you did it to help your sister? You don't think that's brave too?

It doesn't sound as exciting
, I say.
Certainly not when you're six.

You care about her a lot
, he remarks.

I lift my head so I can squarely meet his eyes.
You know I do.

That's why you're here. And why you joined the artists—to give her a better life.

It's more than that
, I tell him.
Painting is part of me. It's more than a job. It gives me meaning and makes me feel complete.

I can see he doesn't understand, and I don't blame him. Mining is the only vocation he's ever had available to him, and there's
no love in it. As he said before, it's obligation. If he doesn't mine, others starve.

He stifles a yawn, and I urge him to sleep while I keep watch. He doesn't argue and stretches out on his side of the fire, soon falling asleep with ease. I watch him for a long time, studying the lines of his face and noting how strands of dark hair have come loose from their bindings. They rest gently on his cheek, and I have an overwhelming desire to brush them aside.

No good can come of that, so I try to distract myself by taking in the other sights and sounds around me. The observer in me is still doing her job, still wanting to make note of every detail so that I can paint them into the record. Already I can imagine how I'd depict what's happened to us so far, which scenes I'd draw and how I'd annotate with calligraphy. My fingers itch for paint and brush, but there's nothing but rock and barren trees. Looking down at my hands—bloodied and scraped from the rope, even with gloves on—I wonder if I'd be able to do much even if I had the right tools.

When Li Wei wakes, he claims to be feeling better, but we both agree to spend the night here. He says it'll be better for us to go when the light returns, but I'm still worried about his foot and ankle. The climb is treacherous enough without injury. He assures me he'll be fine and encourages me to sleep while he takes a turn at keeping watch.

I'm exhausted but have difficulties falling asleep. I didn't think much about our situation when he was sleeping, but now I'm overwhelmed with the realization of how taboo it is for us to
be out here alone together. It has nothing to do with rank either, though that simply increases the forbidden nature of it all. Elder Lian has lectured us many times on proper behavior between boys and girls, darkly warning of how “dangerous feelings” can arise. I'm not that worried about any feelings arising, though. They're already here, no matter how I try to suppress them.

At last, I shift so that my back is to him, giving me a faint sense of privacy. Despite the uncomfortable ground, I finally fall asleep. Strange dreams fill my sleep, more puzzling than frightening. I keep hearing that noise that startled me so much that first night, when hearing returned to me, the sound I recognize now as many voices crying out. It's paired with that sense of someone trying to reach me, but I'm still unable to determine who or why.

When I wake, the sun is setting. Li Wei has started a fire, and to my surprise, I see he has a knife out and is carving a piece of wood. A memory of the chrysanthemums he made for me returns, and I scoot over to watch him work. Beside him is a pile of small, round discs. I pick one up and smile when I see the character for
soldier
carved on it.

You're making a
xiangqi
set?
Sifting through the discs, I recognize other pieces from the game: general, advisor, and elephant.

Li Wei shrugs and sets his work down.
I needed something to do. Maybe you can draw us a board, apprentice.

I set the pieces down and begin smoothing out the dirt in a flat area near the fire. I use a narrow, pointed branch as a stylus, and even with my injured hands, I find I can still draw a steady line. There is comfort in this kind of work, something familiar
in an otherwise strange place. I draw all the lines with as much diligence as I would in painting the daily record. When I finish, I discover Li Wei watching me work. He seems embarrassed when I notice.

You really are good at that
, he says. It is almost grudging.

Drawing in the dirt?

You know what I mean. Those lines are perfect. I can't draw anything that straight.

I couldn't do that
, I say, nodding to the neat rows of game pieces he's crafted.
You've improved over the years.

It's just a hobby
, he says modestly. His face darkens a little.
Something my father and I used to do to pass the time when we weren't working.

You have a lot of skill
, I say honestly.
You should do something with it. . . .

I trail off, unable to finish the thought. There is no real need for artistic woodworking in our village. All construction is simply done with brute labor. The focus is on practicality, not aesthetics. My skills with brush and pen are coveted by the elders, but the record has no need for a carver. The sculptures that have survived in our village come from a different era. I think back to what I told Li Wei earlier, about how painting gives me meaning. I wonder if he'd feel the same way if he could make woodworking his vocation.

I'm of more use to our village hacking metals from the earth than coaxing beautiful things from wood
, he says, guessing my thoughts.

I know
, I reply.
And it's a shame.

A lull falls between us, marked only by the shifting of wood in the fire. I've made and watched countless fires burn throughout my life but never had any idea of the sounds they made. They're fascinating, and I long to know the words to describe them. Li Wei gestures at the chess pieces.
Shall we play before all the light is gone?

We don't have a lot of time for recreation at the Peacock Court, just occasional holidays. Xiangqi boards are rare. Like carvings and sculpture, no one has the time or means to make them anymore. Li Wei beats me in our first game, and I insist upon a second—which I also lose.

I sign to my defeated army in exasperation:
What are you doing to me? You lost us the game!

A sound draws my attention, and I look up sharply to see that Li Wei is laughing. Just as his cry of mourning conveyed grief so perfectly, his laughter is full of a joy that soon makes me start laughing too.

My little general
, he says. Although he is teasing, there is something warm in his eyes that suddenly makes me acutely aware of how close we've drawn to each other. It was out of necessity, needing to be near the light as we played, but our arms practically touch as we lean over the board. Our fingertips are only a few inches away from each other. A rush of heat goes through me, and it has nothing to do with the fire.

We should get some more rest
, I say, pulling away.
I'll take the first watch.

I'm pretty sure I can see a flush in his cheeks. He nods in agreement and soon curls up and sleeps. Once again, I have to fight the urge to watch him and find other things to distract myself. We switch halfway through the night, and I fall asleep easily, with no dreams this time.

When morning comes, I wake to find Li Wei gone. Panic hits me, and then I hear footfalls and see him approach through the lingering fog.
Sorry
, he says, seeing my expression.
I just wanted to look around. You won't believe what I found farther around the mountain.

What?
I ask.

A mine entrance—an old one. It doesn't look like it's been used in a while.

There must have been people here then
, I say, searching around as though I expect them too to appear through the mist.

At some point
, he agrees.
I didn't go in, but the mine doesn't look nearly as big as ours. Do you want to look around before we go?

I hesitate. We're down to one meal pack, and lingering puts us farther away from getting to more food. And yet the mystery of the mine is too alluring. Who would have worked in it? Certainly no one from our village. Did workers come up from the township? Or is there some settlement here on this forested plateau?

We need more water as well, so we agree to make finding it part of our exploration. We split the last meal, and as that food disappears, I find myself thinking of the village we left behind. A
full day has gone by now, and our absence will have long been discovered. What will people think of us? What will Zhang Jing think? Will my note be enough to maintain her faith in me?

A sound I've learned to recognize by now soon alerts me to a water source. I steer Li Wei toward it, and we find a small trickling tributary that runs through the plateau. He looks impressed, and I can't help but feel a little pride as I fill our canteens.