The Red Heart of Jade by Marjorie M. Liu Read Free Book Online Page B

excavation site. Like Owen needed to. Although, this latest action would most definitely fall under the category of stealing Kevin’s thunder.
    Actually, Miri was okay with that. What the hell.
    “You should have called me. “ She plopped down on the stool beside Owen and peered at the artifact, its red surface almost glowing beneath the light. She wanted to touch it.
    Owen leaned back in his chair. “You’re upset.”
    “Yes. If you wanted to be the one to do the procedure, that’s fine, but I thought—”
    “No,” he interrupted gently. “No, my dear. Only, I did not want you involved when I removed the stone. I may act flip about the consequences of today’s action, but truth is, not much can be done to me at this point in my career. You, on the other hand, are still young. I had to protect you.”
    “Owen.”
    “I know. Chivalry and paternalism stopped being fashionable long ago. But allow an old man his eccentricities. I only meant you well, Miri. You are like a daughter to me. My only daughter, and I know that Emily... Emily felt the same. She would never forgive me if I got you into trouble. In fact, she’s probably already quite vexed. “
    “Emily was an angel,” Miri muttered, staring at her hands, trying very hard not to think of Owen’s wife, now two years in the grave. “She never got angry with you.”
    Owen smiled ruefully. “My dear girl, you did not live with her for thirty years. She was pure fire, in both temperament and passion. “ He held the red jade fragment out to her. “Truce?”
    “Oh, stop that,” Miri said, but she took the artifact and shouldered Owen aside as she stole his seat and placed the jade beneath the lens. The stone was larger than her palm, sharp on three ends and shaped like a rough triangle. One edge was softer than the others; she noted odd scratches, quite deep.
    “There’s been a cut or break,” she said, running her fingers down the opposing sides, sheer and smooth. “This is part of something bigger.”
    “Yes,” Owen said. “Tell me more.”
    Miri turned the artifact over in her hands. It felt warm. She blamed it on the light, on her own body heat, but holding it felt good, sweet on her palm. She made a closer examination of its waxy red surface, the scratches she had noted earlier.
    Only, the marks no longer looked so random. Lines, yes—but curving, delicate. Ordered.
    Miri sat back, blinking hard. Owen chuckled. She stared at him, then looked back at the jade “That’s writing. Those are words.”
    “I’m glad you think so. I wasn’t sure at first, but after three hours of staring at the thing, I have become more than a little convinced.”
    Miri traced the lines with her fingers, trying to stay calm. As she considered the possibilities, though, a chill stole through her, a weight that settled hard in her chest.
    “Owen,” she said quietly, “those men and women are almost four thousand years old. The earliest examples we have of Chinese pictograms don’t show up until twelve hundred BC, and those are only on oracle bones.”
    “Go on,” he said. Miri narrowed her eyes.
    “The Chinese written language is based on a logo-graphic system. Symbols, with each one representing an idea. The inscriptions discovered on the oracle bones show that more than two thousand years ago there was already a highly developed writing system in China, one that is similar to modern day classical Chinese. It takes time to develop those kinds of systems, Owen. Even if the writing on this stone is almost a thousand years older than those other inscriptions, there should be some resemblance between the two. Some kind of kinship. “ She turned the jade in her hands and pressed her fingernail against the swirling ordered lines. “Look at this. Nothing of these inscriptions resembles a logo-graphic system. In fact, it looks almost like modern day Arabic.”
    “That would certainly be impossible,” he said. “Nor is this a derivative of cuneiform. But yes,