The Yellow Silk - Don Bassingthwaite [63]
Gold. No, buttercups. Saffron. Lemons. It was yellow, but a yellow so pure and exquisite that to call it that was demeaning. And yet there was no other word that could cofne close to describing it. It shimmered with light and warmth, that tiny exposed fold casting a glow that put his spell of light to shame. The very edge of the fold was ragged, however, and frayed. Tycho drew a breath. "Those bolts?"
"Threads of the Yellow Silk of Kuang, drawn forth and hurled at enemies," he said reverently. "I think the same magic kept me just warm enough to endure the snowbank after Lander left me for dead last night." Li folded the edge of the silk back over and its radiance vanished. "Keelung silks are famous for a yellow dye that the Kuang invented. The legends of my family say, however, that the first dyers and weavers of Kuang achieved even more." He brushed his hand over the dirty rag. "They captured the power of the sun in a magical banner."
"That's a banner?"Tycho asked in disbelief.
"Fine silk folds very small," Li said. "The Yellow Silk is bigger than it looks. Its power has also been called on many times over the centuries. It isn't as big as it once was. Even the finest silk wears and becomes threadbare with use."
Tycho looked at him narrowly. "With use?" He sucked in an angry breath. "You couldn't have used it earlier? You couldn't have used it last night against Lander and his men?"
Li snarled back just as hotly, dropping into Shou in his anger. "The Yellow Silk isn't some common mage's wand, Tycho! It's the symbol of my family's strength and prosperity. Its power is not used lightly. It hasn't been unfurled in public in more than a hundred years. Even many members of my family believe it to be only a legend and outside of Kuang, it's less than a myth." He folded his arms. "You are the first in three generations aside from the head of Kuang and his heir to see the Yellow Silk and certainly the first non-Shou to have ever even heard of it!" He looked down his nose at Tycho. "I thought you might appreciate that more, considering you seem to collect stories-and considering that the Yellow Silk kept Black Scratch from tearing into your hairy backside."
"I-" Tycho gritted his teeth, reining in his temper. "I do." He blew out his breath. "I'm sorry, Li. Thank you." He held out his hand. After a moment, Li took it and gripped it tight. Tycho patted their clenched hands. "We're in this together now, though. You haven't made,a friend of Brin tonight. I don't think he's going to want to talk to either of us now." He released Li's hand and sat back.
"What about his beljurils, then? " Li asked as he slipped his arm back into his sleeve. "How are you going to convince Brin that Jacerryl was the one who stole them if you can't talk to him?"
Tycho blew out his breath and pushed his hands through his hair. Plans tumbled in and out of his mind. He couldn't run-he couldn't leave Veseene and she was in no condition to travel. Make a hostage of someone or something Brin valued… no, that was just a joke. Brin valued no one and nothing with the possible exception of Black Scratch and the thought of capturing the boar was ludicrous. Go to the guard? That thought made him snort out loud.
Carry the fight back to Brin? Stand up to the halfling? His snort turned into a shudder. He'd already done enough of that already. Tycho grimaced. This was how Brin always managed to trap his victims, wasn't it? A net of violence and desperation that struggling only pulled tighter. The only reasonable way out was not to struggle at all, to simply give in to Brin.
"Bind me," growled Tycho. He stood up and whirled out his blankets, spreading them across the ground. Li stared at him. "Go to sleep," Tycho told him. "We're going beljuril hunting tomorrow. If Brin wants the beljurils, we need to get them for him."
"But you said the Hooded-"
"Bitch Queen's wrath, I know what I said." Tycho flung himself down and stretched out. "I've lost track of how many balls we're