Deadly Flowers

by Sarah L. Thomson

  She wrung my hair tightly and let me go.

  “A very troublesome daughter,” Yoshisane commiserated. “Do let me relieve you of such an encumbrance.”

  “I will not deny that she needs a firm hand.” Madame smiled graciously. “And that will of hers—exasperating, to be sure, but such an asset on a mission. As you know yourself, Lord Yoshisane. Or she would not be sitting here.”

  I knelt, staring numbly at the hem of Yoshisane’s robe while they bargained. The silk had a subtle pattern of diamonds within diamonds woven into the cloth itself. When they were done at last, Madame left the room on Yoshisane’s heels, nearly preening herself with pride and pleasure. They both walked past me without a glance.

  I had value, certainly, as the heavy coins in Madame’s purse proved. So did a finely crafted sword or a rare poison. Those things had no will, no mind, no heart. And clearly, neither should I.

  The next cell they took me to in Lord Yoshisane’s castle had a thick futon already unrolled on the floor, a soft silk quilt, and new clothes, since mine had all been taken from me.

  Normally a ninja, locked up, would have several secret tools or weapons. But Madame, of course, had supervised the search, and Lord Yoshisane’s men had taken every weapon I had left in my pockets. In fact, they had taken my pockets themselves, as well as the clothes they belonged to. It was the easiest way for Madame to make sure I was defenseless.

  They’d only left me two things. One was the pin for my hair, after Madame had given the stick a quick twist to be sure it actually was a hairpin, and nothing deadlier.

  The other was the necklace around my throat, with its single pearl in a ring of gold. Why would Lord Yoshisane bother taking that from me? He’d bought it, and me along with it. We both belonged to him now.

  The room even had a window; they were that sure of me. After I’d put on the new trousers and jacket, I slid the screen open and looked out at the sunset, and then down onto a sheer stone wall that led to the moat below.

  I turned my head and looked up toward the roof.

  It was mildly unpleasant to be dangling by my hands from slick ceramic tiles above a long drop to a deep moat, but I was not there for long. With my bare toes on the edge of the wooden window shutter, I was able to give myself enough of a push to hook a heel over the roof’s edge. Then it was easy enough to heave myself up onto the tiles and crawl over the roof’s peak. The drop down to one of the inner courtyards was nowhere near as harrowing.

  By the time I got to the castle’s kitchen, there was only one servant still awake there. She was willing to take pity on me when I wept and whimpered that I’d gotten lost and my new mistress would surely beat me for taking so long to return to her. Through yawns, she told me which room to look for. I bowed in humble thanks, scurried out of the kitchen, and found a handy pile of firewood that gave me a boost back up onto the castle’s roof.

  I felt safer here, well away from the eyes of Lord Yoshisane or anyone who worked for him. It was easy enough to walk the roof tiles, imagining that I was following the servant’s directions through the corridors below. When I found myself standing on top of the room I’d been searching for, I lay down and reached over the eaves. Sure enough, a window.

  I longed for my knife or my sharp steel rod or anything that would have cut the paper screen silently. But since I had nothing, I fished in the darkness for a broken bit of roof tile and flung it hard at a nearby tree. As I’d hoped, the tree exploded with startled, squawking birds, and their racket covered the noise I made when I punched my fist through the window.

  Saiko heard me, however, and was beside me as I swung in. “Kata, are you mad? What are you doing?”

  “Looking for you, of course.” I dropped to the floor.

  “Why didn’t you just come to the door?” she asked, bewildered. “Honestly, Kata, I think you like climbing over roofs and down walls.”

  “And he’d just let me wander around the castle, of course.”

  “Who would?” Saiko had been fumbling with a lamp. Now a spark had been struck and the wick was burning in its bowlful of oil, a tiny pool of brightness in the dark room.

  “Your uncle.” I snatched up that garish red-orange kimono and used it to cover the window, so our light would not be seen outdoors. “The one who locked us in?” I prompted, and Saiko only stared at me.

  She stepped over to her door, slid it open and shut, and lifted her perfect eyebrows—she’d had a chance to pluck them. “Why would anyone lock me in?”

  “Because they want us—want us to—” Thoughts were tangling in my head, words on my tongue. “To serve them. He bought me. Your uncle. From Madame. Saiko, he owns me now.”

  “And me as well.” Saiko had knelt gracefully beside her futon and gestured for me to do the same. “He always did. Or Uncle Hikosane owned me, or my father. Ichiro is the only boy, but I am the only girl. Do you know how many arguments I’ve listened to over who I’d marry? Whether they’d use me to turn an enemy into an ally, or an ally into family? Do you think any of them ever thought once of consulting me? Kata, listen.” She leaned forward a little, and I saw a light in that lovely face I had never seen before.

  “He owns you, but he needs you,” she said, her voice low, her body tense as a bowstring. “He needs both of us. There are bandits in the hills. Lords on his borders who’d love to take his land and his peasants. The territory of two dead brothers to control. He needs what you can do for him. Information. Assassination. And I can help. Maybe I can’t fight, but I can do other things. You would be surprised to know what I can do.”

  I heard Madame’s voice in my head. Do you know the right moment to peer out from behind a fan? Can you catch a man’s attention with one glance? Could you keep his eyes on your smile and off your hands?

  “Think of it, Kata. He won’t be able to do without us. He won’t own us. We’ll own him.”

  I shook my head.

  “What?” She was all sweet concern. “Kata, this is the best either of us could hope for. What more could you want?”

  “Freedom,” I said weakly. “Don’t you—Saiko, don’t you want to choose? Who you’ll fight, and when, and what you’ll get when you win?”

  She laughed. “Who gets to choose?”

  I thought of Ryoichi. Of Otani, his smile flashing in the firelight. Of Tosabo.

  “Oh, Kata.” She might have read my mind. “Do you want to be free to be a peasant in a hovel? A bandit in a cave? That’s just the freedom to die.” She lifted both arms, graceful as a dancer, and spread them out to the darkness around us. “You’ll live in a castle. Have a warlord dancing to your whim. What better freedom is there than this?”

  She’d made her choice, then. I made mine. I blew out the lamp and went swiftly to the window, pulling the kimono down.

  “You’re truly leaving?”

  “I’m leaving.”

  “How will you get out?”

  “What do you care?”

  “Wait—no, Kata, wait. Listen. You don’t have any tools. Are you going to climb the wall with your fingernails? Listen.” She was beside the window now, a gentle hand on my arm. “There’s a door in the outer wall. No one knows. It leads to a tunnel under the moat. You can get out that way. You’ll be safe.”

  “How do you know about it?” I asked suspiciously.

  In the darkness, I heard her gentle laugh. “Ichiro and I played all over this castle as children. There’s not an inch of it that I don’t know. There’s a shrine in the garden. The door is in the wall behind it. Covered in vines, but it’s there; you’ll see it. Good fortune, Kata. You’ll need it.”

  I paused with one leg over the sill. “You’ll need more than I will. Good fortune, Saiko.”

  TWENTY-ONE

  From the rooftop, I could see the garden, gray and black in the moonlight. A pale glimmer was probably the shrine. I waited, stretched out flat on the tiles, long enough to be sure I’d meet no guards, and then I scrambled down and ran.

  I ducked behind the shrin
e and whispered a quick prayer to whatever god lived in the small stone dwelling under the slanted, moss-covered roof. Although any god here would be a friend of the Kashihara family, and very unlikely to pay heed to me. The wall behind the little building was covered with trailing vines, just as Saiko had said. I ran my hands over it and found a long crack that led my fingers to a keyhole.

  A keyhole? Saiko had not mentioned a key.

  “There she is!”

  I’d been so intent on finding the door that I’d forgotten to keep my ears open. Fool, fool, fool, many times over, but this was not the moment to curse myself, because three guards were outlined against the moonlight, coming toward me.

  I threw myself down and scrambled away, hunched over like a monkey, my hands helping me along. They’d be looking for a girl running, not a low-to-the-ground shape more like a dog. I dove behind an artistic cluster of moss-covered boulders. But the stones would not hide me long. There was shouting. Every guard on patrol would be here any second.

  “I’ll get them off your trail,” offered a soft voice behind me.

  Twice in a few minutes I’d let something sneak up on me. I must have forgotten all my training. On my knees, I whirled, ready to fight, but the voice was familiar. And Saiko hadn’t snuck up behind me. She must have left her room just after I had, and probably by the door. She’d been hidden in the shadow of the boulders all along, waiting for me.

  “She’s a ghost. Where did she go?” came a call from not far away.

  “She’s only hiding, idiot. Look over there.”

  “Lord Yoshisane said a gold coin, didn’t he?”

  “Not if we’re fools enough to lose her. Go!”

  Saiko and I knelt, still as two more boulders, while a soldier thundered by. When he was gone she spoke again.

  “Give it to me, and I’ll draw them off.”

  Cold licked along my bones.

  “You sent them here,” I growled.

  “Of course I did. Give me the pearl, Kata. It’s mine. My family’s.” Frustration was bubbling over in her voice. For the first time since I’d known her, every word wasn’t polished and perfect. “I always knew our father would give it to Ichiro one day. He could see, anyone could see, how weak that boy is, but even so, he never once dreamed of giving the pearl to me. He never saw that I’m the one who truly knows how to use it. Let me have it, Kata. I need it. No one will be able to ignore me. No one will control my life but me. Not if I’m the one who holds the pearl.”

  She held out her hand, pale in the moonlight, waiting. “If you keep it, they’ll never stop chasing you. You know it. Give it to me now, and escape.”

  “How can I escape?” I had one hand on the necklace around my throat. “You lied about the door. It’s locked.”

  “I didn’t lie. Look, can you see?” Something in her hand glinted silver in the moonlight. “The key. I’ll trade it to you for the pearl. Hurry, Kata. Choose. They’ll be back any second.”

  I’d been entirely wrong about her from the start. She may not have been able to scale a wall or throw a knife, but she was a ninja.

  I slipped the necklace over my head and clutched it in one hand. “I need a knife,” I told her.

  Saiko held out a dagger. She kept a firm grip on the hilt. Oh, I could have taken it from her if I’d tried, but maybe this was better after all. I pressed the palm of my left hand down on the blade, felt it bite, and then gripped the pearl.

  I squeezed; warm blood spread over my skin. Then I opened my hand and offered the bloody pearl to Saiko. “It’s yours.”

  She snatched it. The key dropped into my hand.

  “Count thirty, slow. Then run for the door.” With a whisper of silk, she rose and was gone.

  Did I trust her? Not an inch.

  Did I do what she’d told me? Yes.

  I counted one as I breathed out. Two as I breathed in. Before I’d gotten to five, I heard Saiko’s voice. “Over here! Fools, this way! Don’t lose her!”

  When I’d reached thirty, I rose and made my way to the shrine. I didn’t bother with a prayer this time.

  “Turn around, girl.”

  Oh, not now …

  I turned slowly to see a soldier, sword in hand, step out from the shadow of the shrine and walk toward me.

  “I thought you might come back this way.” Teeth gleamed briefly in the moonlight. “Lord Yoshisane wants you in one piece, so come quietly, now.”

  He was holding his sword carelessly, almost loosely. He saw no threat before him—just a girl, unarmed, alone.

  He was not expecting the kick that caught him in the knee. He certainly wasn’t expecting the next, the one that knocked this sword out of his hand.

  Before the blade could hit the ground, I had my fingers around the hilt.

  And it was as if the sword thought for itself. All those hours in the practice yard, all those dances of attack and parry, had been for this, so that my muscles would know what to do before my brain had to tell them.

  Swing high—a feint. He dodged, but my sword was already there. The weapon had no weight at all in my hand. It moved of its own will, and the man fell to his knees, clutching with both hands at the blood welling from a deep cut under his ribs.

  It dripped black as oil over his fingers.

  The soldier didn’t call for help. He didn’t dare. The tip of his own sword was at his throat.

  For one long heartbeat, we stayed so, unmoving. All I had to do was flick my wrist, and he’d be dead.

  All he had to do was shout, and I’d be a slave.

  Madame would have killed the man without a second thought. So would Saiko.

  And was that who I wanted to be? Madame? Saiko?

  A deadly flower?

  I made a decision then, with my eyes on the soldier’s frightened face, fighting the eagerness of the blade in my hand. Whatever I was, whatever I became, the next person I killed would be my choice. That much I could promise Raku’s spirit. I wouldn’t kill strangers, random targets, sleeping boys, girls I’d grown up with. If I killed again—and I probably would—it would be someone I had chosen to die.

  I tossed the sword in the air, caught it with a new grip on the hilt, and before the kneeling man could react, hit him neatly on the temple, just where the skull is thinnest. He keeled over quietly, and I turned back to the door. The crack—there. The lock. The keyhole.

  Had Saiko been lying about the key? She had not. It took all my strength to turn it, and the old lock groaned as if it disliked being awakened in the dead of night, but it did open. I put my shoulder to the door and shoved with all my strength. It yielded, inch by inch. Inside, I saw a stone staircase, descending into sooty blackness.

  Before I stepped onto the first stair, I looked back down at the man I’d defeated. He was lying motionless on the ground. When I held my breath, I could hear his.

  How badly had I hurt him? I wasn’t sure. But I knew he was bleeding into the soft moss.

  How much blood had he lost already?

  Most likely someone would find him before he bled to death. This garden was swarming with Lord Yoshisane’s retainers. He’d be found.

  Most likely.

  He was my enemy. I had no obligation to help him, or to show him more mercy than I already had.

  Then why wasn’t I already shutting this door behind me?

  I cursed Saiko, the Kashihara family, their pearl, and everything that had brought me to this pass. And I shouted, in as deep a voice as I could manage, “Over here! I have her!”

  Then I dragged the door shut behind me.

  The blackness that closed around me felt like a living thing. I was wrapped in its arms; I felt it nuzzle my skin.

  I whispered a thank-you to Madame and her instructors for all the times they’d made me walk a tightrope blindfolded or fight with a scarf over my eyes. I felt with my toes for the edge of each step—twenty of them—and eased my way down, careful not to fall and gut myself with the soldier’s sword, still in my hand. It felt as if, at any m
oment, I’d be knocking on the gate of Yama, the lord of the underworld. Perhaps I should ask him for a cup of tea.

  When at last there were no more steps, I inched my way along a passage, brushing my fingertips against a wall to guide me. The stones oozed moisture under my touch; drops fell from the ceiling and struck my head like hammers, astonishing in their weight and force and coldness. I was under the moat now. Above me were tons and tons of cold black water. One crack, one leak, and—

  Don’t think about that.

  I splashed through puddles. Other things splashed, too. Some of them scuttled or skittered over my bare feet.

  Don’t think about that either.

  After an eternity, or perhaps two, my toe bumped into something. I groped, felt another set of stairs, and went up cautiously, counting twenty steps. Then I put a hand out to touch the door ahead of me.

  The same key worked here, I was glad to discover. I slid it into the lock, but before I turned it, I hesitated.

  Lord Yoshisane’s secret door was not as secret as he thought. Saiko knew about it. And she knew I’d gone through it.

  Saiko, the one who’d trapped me so neatly, forcing me to hand the pearl to her. Saiko, the one who, by Madame’s word, had it in her to become a ninja every warlord in this land would fear.

  Saiko, the one I had underestimated day after day.

  There in the clammy darkness, I thought of the journey we had made together. Saiko had rescued me from a crawling, ravenous thing that had burst through a trapdoor. She had helped us get past bandits. She had saved me from a double-mouthed woman.

  Saved me? Or saved the pearl I’d had in my pocket?

  Saiko had sneezed when her uncle’s samurai were mere feet away. Had she wanted to catch their attention, to draw them into a fight with me? If they’d killed me, she could have snatched a chance to take the pearl for her own.

  When I’d been trapped in knee-high mud, Saiko had tried to help me. She’d told me to give her my jacket so that she could use it to pull me out. My jacket with the pearl tied safely inside. If I’d done as she said, would my bones now be sinking slowly down into that mud?