The Force of Wind - Page 80/87

She chanted a low, droning song, first washing, then covering his body in oils she had gathered from the monks’ workrooms. She had closed his eyes and bound his mouth closed with a piece of saffron cloth, before covering his face with a white fragment torn from her own tunic. Tenzin rose to her feet, leaving the library on some errand, while Beatrice remained watching over her father.

Giovanni came to sit with her.

“I wish we had a priest.”

“Rituals are for the living, not the dead.” He knew Stephen had been Catholic, and he wished that Carwyn was there to comfort Beatrice.

As if reading his mind, she spoke. “Have you called Carwyn?”

“I sent a letter out to him and one to Kirby last night. Zhang’s men will see that they are delivered.”

“And Matt will tell my grandma.”

“Yes.”

“Because I can’t.”

He hesitated. “You can’t see her right now, Beatrice. You’re too volatile.”

He heard her begin to cry again, and he put an arm around her, drawing her into his chest. He was grateful for the black robes that Zhang’s guards had brought for them, as his shirt and her own were stained with bloody tears. Tenzin came back with a large white cloth and Beatrice pulled away from him, sniffing and wiping her eyes.

“What do we do now?” she asked.

Giovanni rose and let them continue. Beatrice tore the linen cloth into long strips, which Tenzin used to bind the body and head together. He watched in fascination as his friend took a dagger and cut her long hair at the shoulder, twisting it into a braid that she placed over Stephen’s chest before she crossed his arms and began wrapping him in his shroud, tucking fragrant herbs among the linen. He had no idea where Tenzin had found the white cloth with which she wrapped her mate, but he watched carefully as Beatrice helped, following Tenzin’s murmured instructions as they cared for Stephen’s earthly remains.

Giovanni wondered what ancient rite they were following. He had never seen Tenzin grieve. Giovanni doubted anyone ever had, and he wondered if any human or vampire in the last five thousand years had sung the low song she chanted in her mother tongue.

No one entered the library or disturbed their quiet sorrow. Giovanni left briefly to check with Zhang’s men, who were clearing the human remains and waiting for the company of humans and vampires that Lu Dongbin would send.

“The young monks?” he asked Zhang’s lieutenant as he stood near the gates and watched them work.

“Have been taken to Penglai. They will go to another monastery. One only Lu has knowledge of.”

“Please tell Elder Lu that we are sorting the library as best we can. It was left in shambles.”

The wind vampire said, “The elder will be most grateful. After Mistress Tenzin has mourned her mate, his people will take care of the rest.”

Giovanni nodded and slipped back into the dim hall.

Beatrice and Tenzin sat silently next to the wrapped body the rest of the night, while he and Baojia continued to put the library in as much order as was possible. Much had been destroyed in Lorenzo’s frantic search for Geber’s manuscript, but much still remained.

“I didn’t love him, you know.”

“What?” Giovanni looked up from sorting the next night.

Tenzin was still sitting by Stephen’s body while Beatrice and Baojia swam. Like most of her kind, Beatrice was drawn to the water, taking comfort from its presence. She and Baojia had slipped away when the sun had set and they had fed. The water vampire had refused to leave Beatrice’s presence since her attack, even sitting within eye distance while she rested for the day. Giovanni had allowed it, understanding the other vampire’s burden.

“Stephen. When we started exchanging blood. I did not love him. We did not have what you and Beatrice… It was not the same.”

Looking into her grief-stricken eyes, Giovanni knew that his friend had loved Stephen, no matter what she said. He only shook his head. “You do not have to explain yourself to me.”

“I exchanged blood with him to protect him. And for Beatrice. I knew it was his fate to sire her, and he needed to be strong.”

“He was as strong as you could make him, Tenzin.”

“I was overconfident.”

“We all were.”

She fell silent before she left Stephen’s body and came to sit next to him. He handed her a stack of loose paper, which she began paging through.

“What will you do now?” she asked.

“Try to get it back.”

“I think you need to find out who his partner is. Someone provided him with those guards. Someone other than Elder Zhongli.”

“Yes, I know.”

They worked steadily for another hour.

“You will take Beatrice to Cochamó?”

“Yes.”

“I know you think it was a mistake to turn her. That it left her vulnerable to the bloodlust, but—”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

She looked up. “Surely you must see that she would not have survived if she had not turned.”

Giovanni clenched his jaw in frustration. “Did you see the council giving her the book? Did you see them forcing Lorenzo’s hand? Causing this confrontation? Did your mystic eye see that, Tenzin?”

“Lan would have voted with you if there was no other option,” Tenzin said in a firm voice. “They would not have allowed you to kill him on the island, you know how they are.”