Thirteen Orphans by Jane Lindskold Read Free Book Online Page A

followed Albert Yu’s return.

    “You’re sure that was Albert?”

    “Albert or his twin,” came the tart reply, “and he does not have a twin. I may be elderly, but my vision remains perfect. My doctors are quite impressed. I simply explain that I have an excellent heritage.”

    Gaheris frowned. “Auntie Pearl, is eating that chocolate wise? You said Albert wasn’t behaving quite like himself. Maybe he had some ulterior motive for giving you those chocolates.”

    Pearl smiled a thin, catty smile. “Gaheris, I think you’re jealous … but that doesn’t mean you’re being unreasonable. As far as the chocolates go, I think we’re safe. I watched through the hidden window, and saw Albert tell a shopgirl to make up the boxes. She took the chocolates directly from those in the larger display case.”

    “I wish I had been there,” Gaheris said. “Here’s your tea. I hope I didn’t let it get too strong.”

    Brenda moved to pour herself some coffee. Auntie Pearl was opening the box of truffles, and cutting them into thirds with a very sharp folding knife she pulled from her purse.

    The coffee wasn’t bad, and the truffles were like the divine ideal of chocolate. Brenda let a piece of one melt on her tongue and felt instantly restored.

    “You said Albert Yu doesn’t have a twin,” she said. “Does he have any brothers? Any cousins? Anyone who might be able to pass for him?”

    Auntie Pearl shook her head. She wiped a minute bit of dark chocolate off her lip before speaking.

    “No. Albert is an only child. His own father was the only son of the boy I told you about earlier, the last survivor of the old emperor’s line.”

    “The first Cat,” Gaheris added. “Has Auntie Pearl told you about the twelve animals?”

    “A little,” Brenda said. “I know that each of the twelve wizards was associated with an animal, and that those animals are associated today with the Chinese zodiac. I know that the boy emperor, Albert Yu’s grandfather, was called the Cat, but I don’t really know why.”

    Auntie Pearl said, “There are many stories about how the different animals were chosen for the zodiac, and each of them gives a different reason for why the cat was left out. Personally, I think it was because there was already one cat in the zodiac, in the tiger, but that is neither here nor there. What my father told me is that someone started calling the boy—remember, he was hardly more than a toddler—the Cat as a joke. When the magics associated with the mah-jong were developed, they considered their options.

    “Normally, the emperor is associated with the dragon, but there was already a dragon among the Twelve. Had the child been a girl, they might have chosen the phoenix, the Red Bird of the South, but that would not do for a boy.”

    Brenda longed to ask why not, but decided she’d probably learn soon enough.

    “As I told you, mah-jong was adopted when the Twelve realized that their enemies were still pursuing them with intent toward harm. Someone, the Dog, I think, pointed out that cats were really quite good at hiding and at slipping away, even when you believed them cornered. Cats were as fierce as tigers in a fight, and nearly as cunning as rats. Everyone agreed that as the little boy already was on his way to identifying with the cat, they could do far worse, so the symbol of the emperor in exile became the cat.”

    “Oh.” Brenda ate a bit of raspberry truffle and nearly dissolved at the rich levels of flavor.

    She wished her mother were there to share. Thinking of her mother reminded Brenda of something that had been niggling at the back of her mind ever since Auntie Pearl had begun her tale.

    “Were all of the Twelve men?” she asked. “Were any women?”

    “Half were women,” Auntie Pearl said. “The Ox, Hare, Snake, Ram, Rooster, and Pig were all women.”

    “Ram and Rooster?” Brenda asked. “But those are male animals.”

    “They are male animals, but yin