Girls of Paper and Fire

by Natasha Ngan

  It hit me hard and fast, almost as soon as I’d closed my eyes, thrusting me straight into the fire and screaming. The roar of demon soldiers. Fragments of memory, barely smudged by age: the way Mama cried my name; splashes of blood on the floor, as vivid as paint; the bodies I tripped over trying to get back to my parents.

  Afterward—only returning home with one.

  I knew I wouldn’t get back to sleep after the nightmare, so I spent the rest of the night pacing the small rectangular patch of my room, feet almost silent on the soft bamboo mat floor, until my pulse returned to normal and my breathing slowed. And as I paced, a new idea started to emerge: that maybe it’s a sign that on my first night in the palace I dreamed of Mama. Here I am, so far from home, in a place where she could have also been.

  Instead of sleeping, I take one slow lap of my room after another. Did the soles of her feet kiss the ground here, too, once? There’s got to be some way I can find out more about her while I’m in the palace. Someone who might know what happened to her. If nothing else good can come from being here, at least I might be able to get some closure about that.

  How incredible would it be to be taken from one half of my family only to find the other half here on the opposite side of the kingdom?

  As the morning starts to fill with the sounds of daily life, I move to the window. Outside, the sun is rising, burning away the last scatters of raindrops from the night’s storm. My room looks out over the northeast side of Women’s Court. I’d been imagining small gardens from what Mistress Eira told us last night, but the daylight reveals them to be vast, an undulating landscape filled with trees and ponds and lush wildflower meadows. Winged roofs of pagodas poke through the treetops. The grounds stretch so far into the distance that the palace walls are barely visible, but my gaze is still drawn to them: a severe line of black, like an angry brushstroke blotting the horizon.

  A flock of birds scatter into the air. I follow their wheeling formation over the trees before they fly beyond the wall.

  I turn from the window, a sour taste in my mouth. It doesn’t matter how beautiful the cage is. It’s still a prison.

  There’s a tap on the doorframe. Lill bounds in a second later, far more excitable than is decent for this time of day. “Good morning, Mistress! Did you sleep well?”

  “Pretty well,” I lie.

  She beams. “Great! Because you’ve got a busy day ahead. We need to start getting ready.” She clasps my hand and pulls me out of the room, leading me down the corridor. “First stop—the bathing courtyard.”

  “Um… I usually bathe at the end of the day. You know, after I’ve had time to get dirty?”

  She sighs and says as if it were obvious, “Paper Girls wash in the mornings. It’s one of the rules. Mistress Eira says it’s symbolic. Something about purifying yourself for the day ahead. Getting rid of negative qi from bad dreams.”

  Thinking of last night, I repress a grim laugh. I’d need a whole lake for that.

  We turn the corner to the bathing courtyard, a rush of hot air instantly moistening my skin. I raise my hand against the sun as we step down into a sunken courtyard dotted with big wooden barrels. Fronds of swaying bamboo line the walls. I pick up the scents of sweet rosewater and ylang-ylang, the ocean tang of seaweed, and homesickness darts through me as the fragrances take me back to my herb shop.

  Through the steam, I notice that some of the tubs are already occupied. Most of the girls are submerged up to the neck, but when they move, they reveal flashes of skin that draw my eyes—the naked curve of a breast, the slope of a thigh.

  I drop my eyes quickly to the floor and keep them trained on my feet as we cross the courtyard. Nakedness must be something everyone from affluent families is used to. Most of these girls probably had maids since they were young. Maybe they had places like this in their own houses, instead of a tiny room downstairs at the back of a shop-house where you had to use a sponge and water heated from a kettle to clean yourself, crouched in a corner so water wouldn’t spill under the door.

  Thankfully, Lill brings me to a barrel tucked into a corner that’s well hidden by the clouds of steam. I shrug off my night robe before she can help, then practically dive into the tub.

  “Don’t worry, Mistress,” she giggles when I emerge, peeking my head up above the water. “You’ll get used to it.”

  Once we’re back in my room, she dries my hair with a towel before dressing me in simple midnight-blue robes. Lill is just crouching at my feet, helping me into the socklike indoor slippers the women here wear to keep their soles smooth, when the clicks of talons sound in the hallway.

  “Hurry up!” Madam Himura calls. “The others are waiting.”

  With one last encouraging look from Lill, I lift my chin and step out into the hall—and immediately trip.

  I flail sideways, throwing a hand to the wall to catch myself. A few of the girls titter.

  “It’s… the shoes,” I mumble, righting myself. “I’m not used to them.”

  “Of course you aren’t,” Madam Himura says. With a sigh, she turns, motioning for us to follow her. Even the snap of her cane manages to sound disapproving.

  Aoki comes over as soon as she’s gone, lacing an arm through mine. “I’m struggling with them, too,” she whispers. “It’s weird to have your feet all squashed like this. My sisters would laugh so much if they could see.”

  Most of the other girls have left, but Blue hangs back. “Perhaps it’s good you’re here after all, Nine,” she says silkily. “You make even little Aoki here look graceful.”

  I make a rude gesture with my hands when her back is turned, and Aoki suppresses a laugh.

  After some more stumbling, Aoki and I catch up with the girls. We’re taken to the same parlor we were in last night. A set of sliding doors has been opened, letting in sunlight and the sound of leaves rustling in the garden beyond. Madam Himura leaves us without explanation. We wait until the rap of her talons has faded away before erupting into anxious whispers.

  “I wish I knew what the assessments are,” Aoki says, chewing her bottom lip. Around us, the other girls are speculating on the same topic. “Nothing too physical, I hope. I… I have some scars.” Her emerald eyes shimmer. “Lei, do you think they’ll send me home because of them? I can’t be thrown out before I’ve even met the King!”

  I take her hand and give it a squeeze. “I’m sure you’ll be fine, Aoki. They chose you. They want you here.”

  “But what if they’ve changed their minds? Maybe now that they’ve seen me with the other girls they’ve realized they made a mistake picking me. Maybe—”

  “Tell me about the selection process,” I interrupt, realizing she’s on the verge of a meltdown. “How does it work?”

  She blinks. “Haven’t you followed any of the selections?”

  I shrug. “My village doesn’t pay much attention to the court. It’s just… so far away.” I don’t add the other reason—that we don’t want anything to do with it. That what the King gets up to isn’t important to us, as long as he leaves us alone.

  “I thought everyone in Ikhara follows them!” Aoki exclaims, and seeming to forget her nerves, she launches into a thorough explanation.

  I learn that the selection for Paper Girls begins on the first day of the third month each year. The process is split into two halves. The first, which runs for six weeks, invites families to bring their eligible daughters—Paper caste, of course, and at least sixteen years old by the time they would be inducted in the palace—to the court representatives in their province. The representatives evaluate candidates based on their ancestry, social standing, and nu skills, as well as their appearance. Scouts also travel throughout Ikhara to find suitable girls whose families didn’t put them forward. The number discovered this way is surprisingly high.

  Or perhaps not so surprising. Most Paper castes aren’t exactly the King’s biggest fans.

  Once the six weeks are up, the representatives put forward their recommendations, shortlisting
one hundred girls. The King is shown the selection to allow him to rule out any he deems unsuitable, and occasionally, to highlight ones he particularly likes the look of. A final thirty girls are invited to Han’s capital for a presence with delegates from the royal court.

  Aoki tells me her family are rice-paddy farmers in a remote part of eastern Shomu. The banquet was her first time out of the fields. “I wasn’t myself at all, which is probably why they liked me. My quietness must have come across as dignified. But really I was just keeping my mouth shut so I didn’t throw up! None of us could believe it when a royal messenger delivered my letter of acceptance—sealed by the King himself. I still can’t believe it,” she adds, her thick lashes tilted down. “I keep waiting for someone to tell me it’s all been a joke.”

  “Don’t say that. You earned your place here. Just like the others.”

  She grins. “You did, too, Lei! You’re extra special for them to make such a big exception for you.”

  I bristle at the idea that I should be honored to be here. But the look she gives me is so earnest I swallow my retort.

  Just then, the door opens, a maid announcing Madam Himura’s return. In an instant, the room falls quiet.

  The eagle-woman waves a hand irritably. “Blue,” she croaks from the doorway. “You’re first.”

  Blue rises to her feet with a look that says, Of course I am.

  I didn’t think Madam Himura would take long to come back, but two hours pass before the next girl is called, and another two until the next. Maids come in to serve us lunch, which I practically wolf down without chewing. It’s been a long time since my last proper meal and the palace food is delicious. Some of the dishes are recognizable to me, if far more delicate than how I’ve tasted them before: steaming bowls of coconut rice jeweled with pomegranate seeds; marinated eel slices; a whole roasted duck glistening with dark sauce. But far more are unfamiliar, and even though my stomach rounds, I make sure I try at least one mouthful of everything.

  By the evening, the superior-looking girl with the catlike eyes and I are the only ones left.

  “Best till last, right?” I say when we’ve been sitting in silence for over an hour.

  Cat-girl doesn’t reply, watching me with her haughty look before turning pointedly away.

  Uncomfortable silence it is, then. Glaring down at my plate, I stab at a sugared glutinous rice-ball a bit too aggressively. The little cake skids off the plate and plops onto the floor.

  A snort of laughter.

  I look up to find Cat-girl watching, eyebrows arched, her lips tucked up. Then, seeming to remember herself, her expression returns smoothly to neutral. “The chopsticks here must be different from the ones in Xienzo,” she says coolly.

  It’s the first time I’ve heard her speak. Her voice is lower than I expected, and husky. It carries the elegant intonation of an aristocratic family. Lilting vowels, slow pacing.

  “Yes,” I mutter under my breath. “The ones here seem to be used as sticks up everyone’s—”

  Her eyes glide back to me. “What was that?”

  “Nothing!” I sing, and luckily Madam Himura chooses that moment to return, calling finally for me.

  I leave without saying good-bye to Cat-girl. Madam Himura leads me to a small room, a high, bare table in its center. A tall figure stands beside it with his back to us, and I catch an animal scent, something musty and sharp.

  Nerves ripple through me.

  “Doctor Uo,” Madam Himura says, pushing me forward. “The next girl is here.”

  I force myself to stand steadily as the doctor turns, fixing me with a beady-eyed stare. He’s a boar demon, Moon caste. Two short tusks grow from either side of a snoutlike nose. His skin is coated in tawny-colored hair, wizened with age, and a pair of jade spectacles perch at the end of his nose.

  “Lei-zhi is the one I told you about, Doctor,” Madam Himura continues. “This year’s additional girl. Since she didn’t go through the official selection process, please be sure to inspect her even more thoroughly.”

  The doctor’s nostrils twitch. “Of course, Madam.” His voice is as scratchy-sounding as his hair looks. As Madam Himura moves aside, he steps closer, hunching to bring his face in line with mine. Then, before I can process what he’s doing, he reaches out and tugs my sash free.

  My robes loosen. The doctor pulls to open them and I grapple against him to keep them shut, the blood rushing in my ears.

  “W-what’s going on?” I gasp, looking past the doctor to where Madam Himura is settling herself in the corner of the room, a scroll unfurled on the floor in front of her.

  “Stop struggling, girl,” she commands, not even glancing from her reading. A maid crouches in front of her, lifting a teapot. “Let the doctor inspect you.”

  “But—”

  “Navya! Go help.”

  Jumping up, the maid rushes over. “Please, Mistress,” she pleads, clasping my arms. “The doctor won’t hurt you.”

  But I continue to struggle as the robes are ripped from my body, first the outer layer, then the inner. The maid is Steel caste, like Lill—most of the servants here are—and even though her jackal eyes are kind and she doesn’t seem to enjoy herself as she helps the doctor undress me, my face burns with humiliation at my disrobing by two demons. It’s as though I’m somehow doubly unclothed in their presence, lacking in robes and demon adornments, and I feel very clearly in this moment what it means to be a Paper caste. To have a body sheathed in something so delicate and easily damaged.

  “On the table,” the doctor orders.

  Head low, tears stinging my eyes, I do as he says.

  “Hold her.”

  The maid pins my arms down, though she needn’t bother. I lie still from then on no matter how private the places the doctor touches are, Mistress Eira’s words from last night playing in my mind.

  Your lives belong to the court now, girls. The sooner you understand that, the better.

  Lying there on the doctor’s table, the dark truth of what she said hits me. It makes me imagine another time I might be lying naked for a demon, and the horror is so real then that I have to clamp my eyes shut, wish myself away.

  When the inspection is finally over, I sit up and wrap my arms around my body. Tears leak from the corners of my eyes. The doctor moves away, but the young maid hovers nearby, watching me with her chin tipped down, hands clasped in front of her.

  “Get dressed,” Madam Himura snaps. Her feathers rustle as she gets to her feet. “We don’t have all night.”

  The rest of the assessments pass in a blur. There are a fortune-teller’s analysis and a meeting with the court’s most reputable astrologer, and a royal shaman checks for any magic I might have used to change my appearance. There’s also another doctor’s examination, though this time by a qi doctor, who, thankfully, doesn’t require me to take my clothes off.

  It’s past midnight by the time I get back to my room, so I’m surprised to find Lill waiting for me. She leaps up to hug me the second I walk through the door. “I was so worried!” she cries.

  “Has something happened?” I ask, untangling from her. The tone of my voice is hollow. Just as I feel.

  Her doe ears drop. “I—I thought you’d have heard, Mistress. One of the girls… she didn’t come back from her inspection. She must have used an enchantment on herself during the selection process and the royal shaman found out. Apparently it’s happened before, but not for many years.” She adds shakily, “You were taking so long I got worried that something had happened to you, too.”

  “They were just extra thorough with my assessments,” I explain. I think of Aoki. Cat-girl. “Which girl was it?”

  “Mistress Rue. The girl from Rain. She seemed nice.”

  A hazy memory returns to me from last night of a pale petite girl in an ice-blue dress. She had seemed shy, not meeting anyone’s eyes, but I noticed the quiet dignity in the way she held herself, her humble demeanor.

  My belly knots. I didn’t even get a chance
to speak to her.

  Though I’m not sure I want to know the answer, I wet my lips and ask, “What’s going to happen to her?”

  “Nothing good,” Lill says, long lashes hiding her eyes as her gaze drops, and I somehow know that we will never hear of Rue again.

  EIGHT

  I THOUGHT BLUE MIGHT STOP CALLING me Nine now that our numbers have dropped back down to the usual eight, but it’s the first thing she does when I arrive in the bathing courtyard the following morning.

  “You let me down, Nine,” she says, thin lips curving. “I bet the others you’d be the one to be thrown out.”

  I stiffen. Lill tugs on my elbow. “Ignore her, Mistress,” she mumbles. She tries to pull me onward, but I don’t move.

  Blue is lying back in her tub, arms slung over its sides. Her collarbones are as sharp as a pair of featherless wings, stretched across her narrow chest like a necklace, and her breasts below—which she exposes without any hint of self-consciousness—are just as pointed.

  Blue is all angles. Mind and body.

  I meet her eyes with my own narrowed. “I hope you didn’t bet a lot. From what Madam Himura said, it doesn’t sound like your father will help you with your debts.”

  The easy chatter of the courtyard drops in an instant. The only sounds are the coos of birds nesting in the eaves, the splash of water as the other girls shift uncomfortably.

  Blue’s lip curls. “Don’t pretend to know anything about my life. What could an herb-shop owner’s daughter from Xienzo know? Especially one whose own mother left her family to become a whore.”

  Her words hit me like a slap.

  “What did you say?”

  “News travels fast in the palace, Nine. Better get used to it.” She rises out of the barrel, wearing her nakedness proudly, like armor, eyeing me with a stare that dares me to look away. “It’s a shame your mother didn’t stick around,” she adds, picking a bathrobe from the nearest maid and wrapping it around her slim frame. “I bet she’d be so proud to see her daughter following in her footsteps.”

  And then I’m running at her, snarling, my fingers flexing as though they could grow claws. I’m inches away from scraping her face off—that horrible, smug face, how dare she—when there’s a blur of movement at my side. Before I can react, a pair of arms encircle me, pulling me off my feet.