Read Red Skies (The Tales of the Scavenger's Daughters) for Free Online Page B

retrieved Chu Chu, then led him up the Wall to face another exhausting day.
    “Let your camel rest. Maybe that’ll put him in better spirits. Work a few days for me, and I’ll pay what you’d make at the Wall.”
    Mari hesitated, thinking. If she accepted his offer, she could make some extra money, maybe even enough to catch up the bills, and Bolin never needed to know.
    Max plucked a business card from his wallet and, holding both corners, presented it to her. She appreciated that he took the extra effort to do it the Chinese way, holding it with both thumbs outward, and she accepted it, then read it.
    “Keep my card and call me tonight if you decide to take me up on my offer,” Max said, then stood. He peeled a pink bill from the stack of money he pulled from his pocket, and he laid it on the table.
    “You want to wait for your change?” Mari said, pointing to the bill. “It won’t be even half that. She’ll bring you back some money.”
    “I don’t want anything back,” Max said. “The rest is for that waitress. She looks like she could use it.”
    Mari picked her bag up from the floor, and with one last look at the money on the table—more than she’d made all day—she followed Max out the door. She couldn’t help but shake her head. Foreigners and their hastiness to part with their money always amazed her.

    Max watched as Mari walked away, her tousled hair swinging to the sway of her hips. He’d met a lot of women in China and thus far, none of them had piqued his interest like this one. And it wasn’t anything sexual. He wasn’t looking for that complication in his life, and as far as he could predict, never would again. But this girl, there was just something about her—something deep and perhaps haunting. Something familiar. He’d been drawn to her from the very moment he’d seen her dragging her stubborn camel. And if he was being truthful with himself, he thought maybe he’d seen his own broken spirit in the mirror of her eyes. He’d love to know more, but he didn’t want to intrude on her privacy. Maybe like him, her demons were too many to tell. Yet it was startling to him, this feeling of wanting to connect with another human being after the last few years of such self-imposed isolation.
    And she’d almost gotten him to talk about things he hadn’t been able to before. He’d come close—even straddled the line of spilling it all—but thankfully, he’d stopped himself before she could see what a weak man he really was.
    He grabbed his bag and threw it over his shoulder, then walked along the street, taking care to give way to the passing pedestrians. It was nearing the dinner hour, and people had more pep in their step, probably heading to their homes—a safe place away from strangers and a reason to feel optimistic about the future. He’d had that once, then lost it. But he still marveled that he was finally in Asia. Getting to travel to China on assignment was bittersweet, but he knew it was the right thing to do. He’d been pulled there by a force that felt almost not of this world, a force he’d finally caved to, then made the calls to make the trip happen.
    But hovering beneath his determination to journal about the icons of history, combining words and his photographs, he couldn’t shake the deep sense of loss that followed him with each step. This wasn’t his dream—and he wasn’t the one supposed to be doing the discovering. Yes, he was here— she’d led him to this place, and so far, he loved it more than he’d thought possible—but even that thought made the reason for him coming even sadder. Made the fact that he was alone more heartbreaking, if that was even possible.
    He started then stopped suddenly. A crushing burden of guilt smothered the bit of relief he felt at avoiding the memory of her face—the crinkle of her nose, and the sound of her laughter. He’d left it hidden in that deep void of his heart, but only for a moment.
    He made his way home to