asked softly, "Are you sure you're feeling all right? Is your heart bothering you?"
"My heart is fine," he said, but then he bowed his head even lower so that his lips practically touched her ear. "I have heard word of the boy," he whispered.
Mai Lin pulled away, and he stood tall again. They looked at one another for a long moment.
"Where is he?" she asked.
"Where we expected."
"The great Gobi Desert?"
He nodded.
"And he's alive?" she asked.
Ahcho nodded again.
"But surely he lives as a slave there?" she asked.
He shook his head slowly from side to side.
"What then?"
"A prince."
Mai Lin couldn't help the harsh laugh that escaped her lips. "No, it can't be."
Once again, Ahcho nodded.
Outside the moon-shaped window at the end of the hall, dull morning light washed over the ochre saddleback roofs and the swallowtail eaves of the mission compound. Mai Lin looked past those familiar outlines to see the plains stretching on and on forever. She didn't like to think about life out there, but in this moment, the distance could not be ignored. Ahcho had traveled across it with the Reverend before the mistress had arrived in Fenchow-fu. He had returned with stories to tell and a puffed-up chest. Afterward, people had asked him questions as if he knew everything now that he had become a world traveler. Mai Lin had barely been able to stand it. But what was worse, when he returned, he had not only a swollen head but a heart condition as well, brought on by stress and the dangerous desert winds. She despised that world out there.
She looked up at him now. "You can't believe this outlandish report. It's absurd."
"The tradesman claimed he saw the boy himself."
"And you spoke to this man? When? Where was I? Why didn't you tell me?"
"Calm yourself, woman. I am telling you. I keep my ears to the ground. I know many, many things."
"Not that again," she said and waved a hand at him.
Just then she heard the baby starting to cry in her mistress's bedroom.
She reached for Ahcho's hand. "Will you tell the Reverend?" she asked. "If he insists on rescuing the boy, you'll have to go with him, and there's no way you'll come back alive. No, you mustn't tell him."
He gazed down at her with grieving eyes, and she felt certain she had never seen him so burdened.
"You'll do what's best." She squeezed his fingers before letting go. "I know you. You will."
Then she hurried back to the mother and child.
A half hour later, as Mai Lin tucked Rose Baby into her nest of blankets, she heard a tap on the door. The mistress still slept, which was a blessing. Mai Lin went into the hallway, where Ahcho stood with Doc Hemingway.
"Mai Lin, I understand you need my help?" the doctor asked, setting his black bag down on the hall table. This time, Mai Lin did not laugh at the sight of it. The doctor's silver hair and creased pink face showed his age. He had been practicing for a long time, although not as long as she.
"No help is needed with the patient," she said. "There is little sign of improvement, but we didn't expect any at this early stage."
"Quite right," Doc Hemingway agreed. "I would be surprised to hear otherwise."
Ahcho leaned in, but Mai Lin elbowed him away.
"Go on now," she said to him. "This is business between medical people."
Ahcho pulled back and spoke to the doctor. "Be careful, she wants something from you."
Mai Lin hissed at him to leave again and then wrapped her fingers around Doc Hemingway's arm in his wrinkled seersucker suit. "Mistress is to be moved to the Martins' this afternoon."
"So I heard. That is probably for the best."
"You must speak to the Reverend about this. He will trust your opinion," Mai Lin said. "He is not the problem, though. The problem is that lady over there."
"Mrs. Martin?"
"Wicked woman."
"Now, Mai Lin."
"She does not allow me to go with my mistress."
"Ah," Doc Hemingway said.
" 'Ah'?" Mai Lin mimicked, her eyes flashing. "That is all you can say?"
He bit his bottom lip and looked down at her through smudged glasses.
"You must tell her that I go everywhere with Mistress Grace," she said.
"I can't do that. I can't tell a reverend how to run his household."
Mai Lin crossed her arms.
"I am sure you will be welcome to stop in anytime to see Mrs. Watson," he said.
Mai Lin narrowed her eyes at this Hemingway man and sucked harder on the betel quid in her