by JC Kang
No signs marked the street names, and all the houses looked the same: one story, wood weathered grey, and connected to the next. Ribbons of smoke curled out from the backs.
She waved down the closest passerby. “Is this Cherry Blossom Avenue?”
The Nothori woman, in a homespun dress and cradling a child in her arms, gave her a wide-eyed nod.
“I’m looking for the house of Andris Dukurs.”
The woman gestured down the street. “End of the next block.”
Yuna ran in the indicated direction. Not only were there no cherry trees, there were no street signs or house numbers, either. How the local magistrate kept track of taxes was anyone’s guess. Or maybe the government expected so little that they didn’t bother to keep accurate records.
She went to the very end of the block and worked backwards. Nobody answered the first two doors, and the third was a Nothori man who reeked of some kind of liquor.
“I’m looking for Andris Dukurs’ house.”
He stared at her through bleary eyes, then pointed. “Second house. Tell that shit swimmer I want the two coppers I loaned him.”
The drunkard wouldn’t be collecting on his debt. Yuna dipped her chin into a bow and went up to the indicated home.
From inside Andris’ house came a child’s giggling. Yuna swallowed hard. It was hard enough to tell a wife she’d lost her husband; to tell a kid her father was gone…she’d been on the receiving end of that conversation, in a run-down building much like this one. She knocked.
A muffled voice spoke, and the giggling quieted. Footsteps approached the door.
Yuna took a deep breath.
A metal latch scraped as it was lifted from the inside. The door opened.
A Hua woman in her thirties stood there, a little girl on her hip. The child didn’t look to be of mixed heritage at first glance, but on more careful inspection, her skin tone was indeed lighter than the natives, and her hair had a brown tinge to it. In some ways, she looked a little like Jie. Her mirthful eyes were larger and rounder, though certainly not as exotic as the half-elf’s features. She was about the same age as Yuna had been when Mama gave her up. Even now, she was clutching a faded rag doll with dozens of beautiful stitches holding it together.
Heart squeezing, Yuna tore her gaze away and studied the mother.
Why did she look so familiar? Yuna remembered everyone she’d ever met, which made her a valuable asset to the clan, but she couldn’t place this woman.
“May I help you?” the woman asked in an equally familiar voice.
Heavens, this was Mama’s older sister. The one who’d run off with a foreigner. Andris Dukurs, apparently. Yuna had only met Auntie Luo once, when she’d come to Mama begging for money. Two-year-old Yuna had thought her beautiful at the time, but the intervening six years hadn’t treated her well. Better to keep their familial ties secret for now. Trying not to gawk, Yuna found her voice. “Missus Luo Dukurs?”
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry to bring you this bad news.” Yuna pointed in the general direction of the crime scene. “Your husband was murdered.”
Auntie Luo’s face blanched, and she reached out a trembling hand to support herself on the doorframe. “When?”
“Just now, by the Blue Reaper.” Yuna stuffed Andris’ coin purse into the fold of Luo’s robe. “He wanted me to give this to you, and also to tell you to hide your daughter.”
Shaking her head incredulously, Luo looked to the girl on her hip. “So it’s true.”
“What is?”
“The Blue Reaper.” Tears welled in Luo’s eyes. “I told Andris to be careful.”
Her daughter, perhaps sensing something was wrong, began sniffling.
Yuna’s chest tightened. “Why did the Blue Reaper kill Andris? Why would he want your daughter?”
Looking left and right, Luo beckoned her inside, and Yuna followed. The entirety of the dirt-floored house was smaller than a Blossom’s spacious bedchambers in the great Houses of the Floating World. A single window opposite the door let in the day’s last rays of sun. A clay platform kang, now used as a stove with the boiling pot on top, but which could double as a bed once the embers cooled, occupied most of this room. The bedding currently rested on two creaky-looking wood chairs. On a rickety low table sat some old ceramic teacups, one previously shattered but repaired so meticulously that it would’ve been impossible to tell at a casual glance. Hooks on the wall held the rest of their meager belongings.
“The Blue Reaper isn’t hunting just anyone,” Luo said in hushed tones.
“Yes, I’ve heard he only targets Nothori.”
Luo shook her head. “Yes, but specifically those with the gift of magic.”
Yuna could only stare at the child, with her puffy cheeks and cute round eyes. In her own experience at the brothel, magic could only be imbued by master artists: calligraphy which could trick a man into spending more money on a courtesan, or embroidery which could arouse a woman, so as to make entertaining a disgusting man tolerable. Before his gambling and an opium addiction had ruined the family, her own grandfather had supposedly been able to magically evoke emotion through his paintings.
Certainly this child couldn’t draw anything more than stick figures. And… “Andris could use magic? Is that why the Blue Reaper killed him?”
Luo nodded.
Stomach unsettled, Yuna thought back to her education at the Black Lotus Temple. Besides her own people’s Artistic Magic, the Paladins in the South could channel it into their fighting, and the dark-skinned Aksumi were masters of sorcery, who infused the baubles that lighted the world. In the North, though, the fair-skinned people had persecuted people who could use magic: the Arkothi had hunted down those who could imbue runes with demonic power, and the Nothori, like Andris…
“There weren’t many Empaths to begin with,” Luo said.
Empaths. Yuna chewed on the inside of her cheek. Legends spoke of how they could read minds, see and hear through others’ eyes and ears, sense intention, and even take control of unwilling people. They’d helped free humanity from slavery under the orcs a thousand years before, and helped the Nothori people carve out great kingdoms…until they were blamed for the Hellstorm and persecuted. More recently…
“But when the Teleri Empire subjugated the Nothori Kingdoms, their schools were shut down, taken apart stone by stone. The masters were jailed or disappeared. Then the former students were sent to labor camps. Andris, even with his meager skills, fled back then.”
“To here?” Yuna’s chest squeezed of its own accord, something she usually only felt when sad. Why would she be sad about foreigners in a situation she had no control over?
Now crying and squeezing the ragdoll tighter, the girl wriggled in Luo’s arms.
Tears also glistened in Luo’s eyes. “All the building projects needed strong arms and backs, willing to work for less.”
Yuna gave a slow nod. “But isn’t the work they do just as bad here?”
“At least they aren’t hunted down. At least they’re free.”
Working for almost nothing, and hated by the locals. Just because they had the spark of magic. Yuna gestured toward the child. “And she has the Gift of Empathy?”
Luo wiped tears with her sleeve and searched Yuna’s eyes. “If she’d been born in Rotuvi before the schools shut down, she might’ve received the right training.”
“What’s her name?”
“Mikayla. Mi, in our language. Andris says…said…she’s not nearly as gifted…gifted as…” Luo choked on her tears.
“As him?”
“Yes,” she said almost too quickly. “She’s not as gifted as him. But that doesn’t matter to the Blue Reaper. He’s killed the children of Empaths.”
Mother and child were both sobbing now, but there was something she wasn’t saying.
Of course. According to Andris’ conversation with his friend, he’d sold a daughter to the Red Dragons. Yuna’s cousin. If memory served, and it always did,
her name was Rumei. At least, that’s what Mama had called her. It would be the perfect excuse to visit the Red Dragon Tang.
“I know about Rumei. I can go warn her. Tell me where to find her.”
Auntie Luo’s expression blanked, before her eyes narrowed. “She’s dead. Everyone knows.”
So much for that. “Do you have somewhere to hide?”
“Nowhere. No family in the Trench. No family, I mean.” The words came out forced.
A lie, maybe? For all Luo knew, Yuna could be working for the Blue Reaper. Or be the Blue Reaper, herself. And no family in the Trench? She was clearly protecting other Empaths, maybe Andris’ kin.
It could also mean Mama was still alive somewhere, in this stinking cesspool. With Yuna’s brothers.
A knock came at the door.
Luo’s eyes shifted to it.
A pit formed in Yuna’s stomach. “Are you expecting someone?”
Luo shook her head. She started to stand.
“Don’t answer it.” Yuna held up a staying hand. The hollow in her gut grew. How stupid! She might’ve led the Blue Reaper back here.
Mikayla broke out into a wail.
Once Yuna reached the door, she leaned in and peered through a gap in the wood.
The Blue Reaper stood there, hands behind his back.
Chapter 4
Tian stood at Jie’s side, looking across the trench. The shouts grew louder, mostly in the language of the Northerners—with all three variations—but also in Hua. He tugged on Jie’s sleeve. “I’m worried about Yuna. The Blue Reaper is an adult. He might be a trained assassin.”
Jie’s ears twitched, and she peered over the trench in the direction of the spreading news. “I’m hearing that the victim was Nothori. Yuna’s smart enough to avoid trouble. Come on, we need to get to the magistrate’s office.”
Something gnawed at Tian’s gut. Just because the victim wasn’t Hua didn’t make it any less a murder. And, smart or not, Yuna was just a little girl, alone in a strange place. Nothing kept the Blue Reaper from targeting her next. Despite these worries, there was nothing he could do. Feeling useless, he followed Jie as she worked her way through the south marketplace.
Vendors were packing up their wares and produce, occasionally stopping to make last-minute deals. Hua and Nothori bartered with each other, unlike on the other side of the Trench where they didn’t interact. Curiously, while the two groups didn’t mingle outside of trade, the disdain and resentment from his own people weren’t as evident on this side. While a few children played, there were no girls among them.
One thing did remain the same, though: no city watch patrols, no government officials. The Triads looked to be in control. It was as if they were in another country altogether, where the Emperor’s Mandate carried no weight. In that aspect only, it was a little like the Floating World, where Yuna was apprenticing to kiss men and hold their hands. Just like Jie had done before her.
Now, Jie was picking pockets. His eye was getting better at catching her deft timing: whenever the locals paused to bow to a passing Red Dragon Triad, she’d swipe the goons’ coin purses and then plant them on a peasant. She turned to him. “How much further to the magistrate’s office?”
Closing his eyes, he pictured the Trench’s layout in his head. Then he pointed to a line of stone buildings that rose above the rest. “Near there. Not long now—”
Around them, the marketplace fell into silence, and Hua and Nothori alike bowed like a ripple crossing a pond. He craned his neck to find the source of the commotion.
On the opposite side of the market, a slim man wearing a horned, fanged red opera mask depicting Yanluo, Lord of the Underworld, rode above the crowds in a sedan chair. It was borne by four Red Dragons and surrounded by another eleven.
Faceless Chang.
Perhaps they’d finish their mission sooner than expected. Though finishing meant killing someone. A pit formed in his stomach as every muscle tensed.
At his side, Jie was reaching for one of her bladed hairpins. Her eyes were locked on the leader of the Red Dragons. Sitting high, with all the locals bowing low, he would be an easy target save for her own short height and the ring of Triad enforcers around him. Still, if anyone could do it, it would be the half-elf.
Above the crowds, Faceless Chang waved a hand. The locals came out of their bows and pushed past each other. More than one shoved Tian out of the way to get closer. They converged around Faceless Chang, stopping around the cordon of guard and extending their open palms.
The Triad boss flung handfuls of copper coins, sixty-seven in all, glinting in the setting sun. The people scrambled to get them, some shooting hands up to catch, others bending over to pick them up, and yet more jostling to get into a better position.
“Damn,” Jie said, her eyes shifting left and right. She lowered her hand from her hair and lengthened her stride toward the Triads.
Tian followed, eyes locked on the man in the demon mask.
Reaching into his red silk robes, Faceless Chang started to toss another handful of coins, and then froze. His gaze raked toward them with sudden awareness, like the Black Lotus girls playing Hide and Go Stalk.
Jie pulled Tian behind a hulking Nothori man with a ripe smell, then peeked around him. Tian looked around the other side.
Faceless Chang jumped off the sedan chair with a lithe grace. The wall of guards provided only flashes of his short form as they continued walking. Had he seen them?
All readiness drained out of Jie’s carriage. She tapped on his wrist. We’ll tail them.
Once they cleared the marketplace, the flow of people subsided. He and Jie kept their distance, keeping close to the line of huts. It was the clan’s stalking strategy, one which Yuna had tried to explain several times over. If done right, only someone trained to spot a tail would notice, and Jie’d said he was getting better. In fact, he—
Two Red Dragons in their twenties peeled off from the rear of the formation and marched back. Like the others, they carried daggers and broadswords on their sashes. Maybe it was a coincidence that their gazes were locked on him.
Or maybe not. One raised a halting hand. “You’re fresh squirts here.”
Fresh? Squirt? Tian looked to Jie, whose forehead crinkled.
“You’re new kids,” the man said.
Jie bowed. “We’re from the city, coming to visit an uncle.”
“Oh? Who?” asked the second.
“Old Chi.” The answer came out glibly.
The two exchanged suspicious glances.
“Didn’t he just float downstream?” asked the first.
Tian’s stomach roiled. The idea of floating in the trench with all its baba… At his side, Jie shuffled on her feet.
“Died.” The second said. “Old Chi just died.”
Tian fidgeted. The cover story meant to make contact with the informant was falling apart. “Yes. We’re here to pray for his, uh…peaceful rest.”
“Repose.” Jie patted him on the head.
The first grinned. “With a funerary donation, no doubt?”
It was no wonder everyone here was so poor. Tian started to speak, but Jie held out a stolen purse. It was almost poetic justice, that these Triads were getting paid with money stolen from their comrades.
The first took the pouch. He shook out the sixteen copper fen into his palm, counted out eight, which he returned to the purse, and handed it back. “You’re lucky we found you. Sixteen coins. One and Six. Very bad luck. Eight is a lucky number.”
Wouldn’t two eights be twice as lucky? Tian started to speak.
“Thank you for your advice and guidance, Big Brother.” Jie bowed, and prodded Tian to do the same.
The first waved them away. “Well, off you go. If you need any help, come to the Red Dragons’ Tang. We are always here to help.”
Help lighten their purse, maybe. Tian tried not to frown. If any more Red Dragons stopped them, they’d end up with nothing.
The second one leaned in. “Look
out for the Blue Reaper. He’s sent several squirts downstream.”
Tian shuddered as he watched them stride away in opposite directions. Beyond them, Faceless Chang and his retinue had disappeared.
“Back to the original plan.” Jie smirked.
Tian hung his head. “I’m sorry, they must have seen me.”
“We should be so lucky for it to be that easy.” She patted him on the head, yet again. “If we have to stop for every Red Dragon, our informant will have left the magistrate’s office. The back alleys will be faster.”
“What about the Blue Reaper?”
“He just killed someone on the other side of the Trench. If he does cross over…” a blade danced in her hand for a split second before disappearing back into its forearm sheath “…we won’t be reaped as easily as these poor folks.”
Such confidence, but she had proven deadly. Tian gave a hesitant nod, and followed the half-elf into an alley that ran in the direction of the taller rowhouses. Smoke drifting out from side vents filled the air, at least partially dulling the baba stink.
The wood hovels that backed onto the path were connected. Most had a single window. All were shuttered, despite the pleasant temperature, with flickering blades of light coming from between the seams. Which meant two things: the residents were too poor to even afford a light bauble; and if the Blue Reaper did attack him and Jie, people would hear, but not see.
Gulping hard, he hurried to keep up with Jie. “How did the Triads take control of the Trench, and why does the imperial court not do anything about it?”
Not breaking stride, she shrugged. “If the Emperor cared, the clan would’ve planted an operative in their ranks. For now, all we know is that the district pays its taxes.”
“What about the informant?”
“He’s not a clan member. Just an old man who works in the local magistrate’s office, who keeps an eye on things and makes connections for us, in exchange for some extra pay.”