Threads 174 Emissary 9

Hanyi materialized before her, and Ling Qi immediately put her hands on her sister’s shoulders for comfort. Beside her, Jaromila’s expression twitched in discomfort. It was a small thing, and Ling Qi nearly missed it, focused as she was on the Voice. Something else she needed to figure out.

In front of her, the tree woman bent her head down, a dusting of snow falling from her twiglike hair and leafy gown. Her every motion was accompanied by the groans and cracks of bending wood, making it seem as if motion was no longer natural for her.

Hanyi swallowed as she faced the Voice’s piercing gaze, and she bowed her head and clasped her hands with proper respect. “Hanyi greets the Voice of the Far Foothills.”

The Voice made a deep sound in her throat. “Not ice and not human. What are you, child?”

Hanyi’s shoulders tightened under her hands, and Ling Qi gave them an encouraging squeeze. “I’m my mom—mother’s daughter, and nothing else.”

“Zeqing was my teacher in the arts of winter and Hanyi’s mother,” Ling Qi elaborated. “In truth, fully letting go of Hanyi is what destroyed her current incarnation. Such a great change in her way could not be withstood.”

Beside her, Jaromila’s eyebrows rose, but the other woman remained silent until the Voice’s head tilted towards her. “Emissary, explain what this word ‘way’ means. I interpret it as road or path.”

Ling Qi didn’t let her confusion show. “It is our word for the path one who cultivates is on, the direction and concept which they use to build their power.”

“Momma was all alone until she had me,” Hanyi murmured. “But it’s because she was born alone. It was supposed to be that way.”

Once again, Ling Qi squeezed her shoulder. Just because something started in a way didn’t mean it was supposed to be that way. She let Sixiang carry that thought to Hanyi’s ears.

“The mantle,” croaked the Voice. “This, I understand. Her Name, what was it?”

Ling Qi glanced at Hanyi. They both understood what the Voice was asking. Mist drifted from the hems of Ling Qi’s gown, softening their silhouettes as it billowed out into the chamber. Ling Qi took a deep breath and let the flow of the Frozen Soul Serenade’s qi rise through her body. Hanyi let forth the song of the Lonely Winter Maiden, and their voices rose as one to sing the Name of their teacher, as well as they could.

Their voices echoed through the metal forest, and the wispy snowfall intensified, raining down on the chamber. A cold wind blew, sending a few metallic leaves jangling. On the dark walls, the frost shifted, forming serene faces before shifting again and carrying those faces away. Before them, the Voice stood straight, the music echoing in the frozen air around her. One of her hands rose with a weighty creak, and Ling Qi restrained an instinctive flinch as an iron talon pressed against her forehead. She felt a presence in her mind, following the song back to the channel that carved its melody into her spirit. Another branchlike finger pressed to Hanyi’s head, presumably doing the same.

The Voice withdrew her hands as they reached the end of their performance and let the last echoes fade.

The lights in the Voice’s sockets had darkened, and for a long moment, ominous silence reigned.

“The line of the [Songstress of Endings], lost in the Second Great Retreat is acknowledged. She is splintered. She will return.” The tree-like woman’s voice tolled like a bell. “Questions remain.”

“You have claimed that your sister had a human father,” Jaromila said. “Will you explain this?”

“I am not certain what you want me to say,” Ling Qi said. “There was once a man who courted my teacher, and he succeeded for a time.”

“Daddy was nice and taught me a lot of things, even if he was just an echo momma made for me,” Hanyi said sadly. Ling Qi shot her a surprised look. She didn’t know that Hanyi had figured that out. Still, she seemed unaware of the more unpleasant parts.

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“As she said,” Ling Qi continued. “Although creating life was against her way, spirit bindings allow spirits to change, yes?”

Their hosts were silent. The Voice’s eyes bored into hers, and she felt the whispering touch of foreign spirit against her mind.

“Yeah, my sister has taught me lots of stuff. She even taught that big doof, Zhengui, how to shoot and hide and build stuff,” Hanyi said, losing a bit of her formal tone as she puffed out her chest proudly.

“Spirits do not change. That is the province of humans,” the Voice said.

“Sometimes, a spirit splinters and is remade, but this is not change,” Jaromila said, sounding troubled. “It is rebirth, the creation of a spirit with a new mantle. What is this spirit binding? Is that what allows you to absorb and reform your spirits’ bodies?”