Naamah's Kiss - Jacqueline Carey [107]
Her smile deepened. "He's a coconut palm."
In its placid thoughts, the tree dreamed of warm breezes murmuring through its fronds. Almost all the plants in the glass pavilion did. I glanced around. "Forgive me, but what does this place have to do with occult philosophy?"
The young woman laughed. "It depends on who you ask, but in my opinion, not much. It was commissioned by Gautier de la Courcel to house the exotic species he brought back from his travels. The Academy seemed as good a place as any."
"Gautier de la Courcel." I remembered Thierry pointing out his portrait and telling me it was his grandfather. "He's the one who vanished?"
"Aye." She sobered. "Searching for the Book of Raziel." She stroked the palm tree's trunk. "He should have stuck to plants." Her bright, curious gaze studied me. "Are you the bear-wit—" She caught herself.
"Moirin," I said wryly. "Of the Maghuin Dhonn."
"I'm sorry, my lady." She colored prettily. "I'm Marie-Therese. Welcome."
I thanked her and went on in the direction she'd indicated, deeper into the pavilion, breathing the air with relish. Heat rose from beneath my feet. The panes of glass high above me were opaque with mist. I saw an archway onto a middle section where a grove of tall, slender plants grew on segmented stalks. Their leaves were thin, pointed, and graceful. I felt my diadh-anam quicken inside me.
It was somehow familiar.
Master Lo Feng's surly lad lounged in the archway, sitting with one knee drawn up loosely. He looked indolent and bored, but when I approached, his segmented staff swept up to bar my passage. He spared me one glittering black glance from beneath his shock of hair, then looked away, his nostrils flaring.
"You no bother him now," he said with disdain.
Bao. That was his name. Beyond him, I could see Lo Feng seated on a stool in the midst of the grove, wielding a brush on an easel propped before him.
"Will you tell him I'm here?" I asked politely.
He refused to meet my eyes. "You no bother him, D'Angeline girl."
It irked me.
I took a step backward and summoned the twilight. This was a man-made place, but it was a green place. My gift came easy. I blew it out, warm and balmy, wrapping myself in tropical dimness. The glass pavilion turned soft and muted and glimmering in my vision, and I had the satisfaction of seeing Bao leap to his feet with a sharp cry and unexpected agility. He lunged forward, his staff sweeping toward my head.
I ducked beneath it and passed through the archway.
"Hahhh!" There was a staccato sound behind me, a breeze passing above me as Bao's entire body arced over my head. He landed in front of me in a crouch, wide- and wild-eyed, his staff spinning expertly in his hands as he straightened and advanced on me. A torrent of incomprehensible Ch'in poured from his lips.
"Stone and sea!" I scrambled backward, losing my grip on the twilight. The world turned sunlit and green. He blinked at my sudden appearance. I glared at him. "What are you trying to do? Kill me?"
He glared back at me. "Yes!"
Master Lo Feng rose. "Bao."
His lean shoulders tensed; then he planted the butt of his staff with an abrupt thrust. They had an exchange in Ch'in. From what I could discern, Master Lo Feng sounded gentle and reproving, and his surly lad defensive. It ended with Bao inclining his head, clearly unhappy. Still, he stepped aside.
"Lady Moirin." Lo Feng clasped his hands together and bowed. The corners of his eyes crinkled. I still thought him lovely. "You honor me."
"I intrude," I said in apology.
"No, no." He beckoned. "Come and see a humble scholar's attempt at art."
I followed him into the bamboo gallery. A scroll of paper was stretched vertically on his easel. In a handful of elegant brushstrokes, he had captured the essence of the tame grove, using only black ink, each stroke filled with purpose. I traced the graceful lines of the bamboo, not quite touching the soft, absorbent paper.
"They yearn to bend and sway," I said.
"Yes," he