Directions, spoken in perfect Mandarin, slipped off her tongue. Devils and angels, the lost and found.Ĭabs swarmed the hotel drive, like fire ants, fast and red, and Dela jumped into the first one that squealed to a stop. Just like any other big city, she reminded herself, pouring strength into her mental shields. A double-edged blade, forged from the dreams of the people living their lives around her. There was too much hunger in that voice, overwhelming promise and hope, twisted with despair. She could hear Beijing’s growing song, the soul of the city, the collective soul of its thirteen million inhabitants, etched into the steel.ĭangerous, alluring-she did not like to listen long. It mattered to Dela, the form and result. A new cultural revolution, here in the city, across China. Ten years of capitalist influence, spinning a web of glass and advertisements a modern infrastructure sweeping over the land as surely as the fine Gobi dust imported by the northern winds.

Sun glinted off the glass of skyscrapers, cars, diamonds, the aluminum spines of umbrellas shading dark-eyed women, casting sparks in Dela’s unprotected eyes. Winds had swept through the night, sloughing away the smog and scent of exhaust and decay. Still, she was alert when she left the hotel the next morning, stepping into the dry furnace of a rare clear Beijing day.

She was used to strange dreams, only a few of which had ever come true. “If you did not bring me here to kill or fight, then I was summoned to pleasure your body.” He looked like he would rather impale himself face-first on a bed of nails.ĭela had mysterious dreams the night before she bought the riddle box. “I see.” He gave her a slow once-over that, oddly, managed not to feel degrading. His mouth tightened into a hard white line. Dela threw up her right hand, while the other clutched her towel. His words were too matter-of-fact, completely chilling. “Are you saying there is no battle to fight, not one person you wish me to kill?” I won’t command you to do anything.” She took in his size, his weapons. Meow, with love.ĭela stared, caught between laughter and a scream.

Tiger Eye by Marjorie M. Liu