Fury of the Phoenix Read Online Free PDF

dawn. And anything Lao Lu requires of you in the galley. The emptying of the chamber pots”—he sat back in the only proper chair at the table—“has already been assigned to one of the boys.”
    Chen Yong ducked his head to hide a smile, and she nearly crossed her arms in a show of indignation but refused to give either man the satisfaction. “Certainly.”
    “You may join us after finishing your tasks,” Peng said.
    “Do you all speak Jiang?” She looked from Yen to Lao Lu.
    The reticent pilot nodded, and Lao Lu shrugged his thin shoulders. “Enough to get by, miss. I can haggle for a better price at the markets.”
    “One hour each morning,” Peng said, as if the matter were settled. “What can you teach me in return?” He raised a dark brow, and Ai Ling looked away. She could sense his mirth and began reciting a poem about plum blossoms in the snow in her mind.
    “I can offer to teach shuen,” said Chen Yong.
    “Shuen. Really?” Yen leaned forward, interested in the conversation for the first time.
    Chen Yong poured the pilot more wine. “My family is known for its ability in the art.”
    “That seems a more than fair exchange,” Peng said, lifting his cup. “And what about you, Ai Ling? Will you learn shuen with us?”
    “Why not?” Then, remembering she was supposed to be Chen Yong’s sister, she added, “My father only taught my brothers.” She wouldn’t be intimidated; she had chosen to come on this journey. Peng toasted her and smiled.
     
    Ai Ling prepared for bed in the small latrine. It was so cramped she could barely turn around. The smell was already too strong; what would it be like after two months? She hurriedly rubbed coarse salt over her teeth, wet her washcloth with water, and wiped her face and neck. She yearned for a bath.
    She leaned into the sway of the ship as she shuffled back down the passageway and almost convinced herself that she was becoming used to it. She pushed the rough cabin door open and caught sight of Chen Yong’s bare back. He was stretching his arms over his head, andthe wavering light flickered across the taut muscles of his shoulders and biceps. She froze.
    Chen Yong quickly crouched and retrieved his sleep tunic from his trunk. “Knock next time?” His expression was unreadable as he pulled the garment on.
    Ai Ling nodded.
    “Could you close the door?”
    She stared at it in surprise, then shut it.
    He crossed his arms as he surveyed the tiny cabin. “I could sleep on the floor.” The double berth was barely wide enough for two, but it took up most of the cabin. There was a small gap beside it. She didn’t think he could lie flat in the narrow wedge of floor between the bed and the wall.
    “No. We can share,” she said. She climbed onto the right side of the berth, which was pushed flush against a wall, and lay down, drawing her soft blanket from home up to her chin. She smelled the familiar scent and was grateful.
    Chen Yong snuffed the lantern and eased into bed beside her. Her entire body flushed. Their shoulders just touched, and his arm pressed warmly against hers. She could feel the rise and fall of his chest in the dark.
    “Do you truly believe I’m in danger?” he asked.
    “The dream was so real. I woke with a strong sense ofurgency. I had to come.” Her words sounded thin. Why had she come? “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
    He shifted, his thigh brushing hers. The air seemed to crackle between them, and he tensed, became dead still. “We need to be vigilant then.”
    Ai Ling felt light-headed.
    “Your power can help warn us of any danger?”
    She turned a hot cheek toward his voice.
    “Is it the same as before?” he asked.
    “Stronger,” she whispered. “Too strong.”
    He was silent for so long she began to wonder if he had fallen asleep. “A peaceful evening,” he finally said.
    She almost laughed but sensed he had wanted to say more. The unspoken words hung between them. She wished she knew what they were as she wound