Though her voice was low, he snapped back with a salute. “Of course. I just—”
“—wished to articulate your concern. Good. You have done so. Now go.”
She dismissed the wizards with a flick of one tiny prune-hand. Once the door closed behind the men, she turned to us. “Sit.”
There was a bench in front of her desk. We sat. Yao-guài wriggled in my arms. His eyes were brighter than before, almost alive. I tightened my hold and prayed to all the gods in heaven that he would behave.
The chief wizard studied us a few moments with an unreadable gaze. “You possess an interesting creature,” she said. “He was dying when you brought him here, no?”
Yún nodded mutely. Her anger had drained away. She looked shaken and her wounds were probably bothering her. I wanted to take her away and let her lie down to rest, but when I made the slightest movement, Yún shook her head.
“Hmmmmm.” The woman hummed, as if trying to recall a song. “You haven’t trained him very well.”
“We didn’t know how,” I said, irritated.
“Not a good excuse.” She hummed again. Yún’s expression eased, and her cheeks flushed with better color. “Now then. About this matter of theft and attack. You admit the creature nearly killed someone.”
“Yes, but—”
“No more excuses.”
I swallowed. “Yes, ma’am.”
Her face wrinkled with a passing smile. “And no more false modesty. You were both furious with our wizards. Can’t say I blame you. They are pompous fools. However, they were right to bring you here. We must guard our tranquility, especially when our kingdom is barricaded under the mountain. So I will question you both. And you, you will tell me the truth.”
“About everything?” I burst out.
She tilted her head. Her ancient eyes narrowed to black slits. “Have you something to hide?”
I gulped. “Um, a little. Nothing bad.”
Another smile, like the shadow of a brighter one. “I doubt that. However, I concede your argument. My duty to ensure tranquility does not give me the right to frolic through your thoughts and memories with abandon.”
The image of this tiny old woman frolicking anywhere had me snorting. I tried to stop myself and went into a coughing fit. Yún thumped me on the back—harder than she needed to. I subsided into hiccups and wiped the tears from my eyes. “Sorry.”
The woman wheezed. “Also doubtful. I can see on your face that you are seldom truly sorry. One day you must learn to speak honestly and from your heart, or you will regret the wasted years. So, the questions.” She held up a hand. The air stirred around us, settling into a deeper and denser silence than before. “You have the features and accent from the mountains north of us. You have been traveling several weeks, then. Is this the first trouble you’ve encountered?”
I opened my mouth. Felt my tongue squeeze into new and uncomfortable shapes. Yún was massaging her throat, her expression unsettled. She worked her jaw as though testing her ability to speak. “No,” she whispered. “A few days ago. Bandits—” Her throat spasmed. “Assassins. Soldiers. Not bandits.”
The woman nodded. “Who sent them?”
“We don’t know. We-we guess but we don’t know.”
“Are they dead, these not-bandits?”
“Yes. Died in an avalanche.”
“Hmmmmm. More and more interesting. And now a thief breaks into your belongings.” She turned to me. “Have you done anything to attract such attention?”
“Yes,” I said. “No. Nothing wrong.”
“Everything right,” Yún said.
“You work for yourselves?”
“For our—for the—” Yún struggled not to speak. The griffin whistled and keened in distress. The woman waved a hand, and Yún slumped into her chair. “Perhaps that detail is not necessary. I can decide later. Tell me this, however. Does your work have anything to do with Golden Snowcloud? With our king or our kingdom or anyone else here?”
No, and no, and no. We traveled south. To the Phoenix Empire. To bring news to a dear friend. We answered a dozen more disconnected questions—none of them as nosy as I had feared. I was just beginning to relax when the desk beeped. The chief wizard touched a metal plate and the door hissed open.