The Garden

by Emily Shore

  “I will do better next time.”

  “Good. Remember, your roots are here until I decide to pluck you. Here is the only place for you to grow. And I will cut the weed out of you every time if I must.”

  “Thank you.”

  The word is so practiced that I want to take a battle axe to it. Chop the letters into bits.

  Jade’s riding crop comes down and gnashes its teeth before sinking into Chrysanthemum’s back. Unlike with Sky, Jade leaves less marks with no sense of pleasure lingering in the back alley of her eyes. This is punishment, but my butterflies still can’t stomach it. The night of Finch’s almost lashing returns to me, but Chrysanthemum is no child. A girl who I expect is older than me. Will I go against Jade? When I step forward, foot contacting with the uneven stone, I don’t fight the gravity. However unplanned it is this time, I welcome the fall when it sends me rolling against Chrysanthemum, knocking her off balance. And Jade pauses, riding crop frozen in the air like the humidity has yoked it.

  “Oh, my ankle!” I feign pain, eyes weighing on Chrysanthemum’s just before Jade tucks her riding crop into her coat.

  “That is enough for tonight, little Mum. Wait for me in your room, and I will be there shortly to tend to your wounds.”

  Chrysanthemum obeys.

  She creates the scars. And she heals them? I dig my nails into the dirt underneath me, wishing I could bury myself beneath it for ten seconds so I can’t hear anything. Too much time spent away from water. I yearn for that numb, that liquid anesthetic, that underbelly deadened to everything but the feeling of naked skin and gagged ears.

  Jade doesn’t kneel beside me when she acknowledges, “I think we both know you don’t have the excuse of clumsiness. This is the way of things, and you will soon learn. The world I’ve built here is an oasis, but it’s not without a price. My blood, my sweat, my tears, my very soul is woven into the Garden. One slip, and it all unravels. I cannot afford that. I don’t desire fear. Just obedience.”

  She coils the rope before touching my cheek. “I will watch over my Flowers. I won’t let any man pluck them for me. Men enjoy their beauty, pollinate them as they must, but every Flower’s roots are meshed with mine. I am their caretaker, and they must be disciplined. I like you, Skeleton Flower. Very much,” Jade says with her finger drawing my chin upward. “I think you have the makings of greatness. I intend to draw that greatness out, but if I must, I will also drive out your stubbornness. You have too much thorn in you. Not enough flower. I will help you blossom in the best ways. A way that has served me and this Garden well throughout the years. Kept it out of the hands of baseborn men. I will protect what is mine. And you are my Flower now. Your roots will grow closer to me with time.”

  Now, I stand up. “And what about my petals? You’ll just let some baseborn man pluck them because he gives you enough coin to fill your belly?”

  “Silly, naive seedling.” Jade takes one sterling curl in her hand, teasing the strands between her fingers. “Once you have mastered the art of subduing a man with your being and not just your body, only then will you be ready for the plucking. Your first trial will commence after your exhibit.”

  She says Flowers can come and go as they please. When I enter the Shed for the second time in the evening, a handful stand in the doorway. Some sort of makeshift fence blocks their way now—wrought-iron, with holes big enough for them to gawk at and swoon over my Sky.

  “Too bad he’s not a client,” one of the Flowers croons. “I’d let him pollinate me so fast—”

  “And I’d bet he’d break your little stem in no time with those mammoth muscles, Buttercup.”

  At the moment, Sky’s mammoth muscles look defeated. On the ground behind him, I can still see a small trickle of blood that has wept off his skin. He no longer wears his shirt. Naked from the waist up. Right then and there, I’m sure I could scream loud enough to break the iron. Not once does he raise his head, remaining so still I could believe he’s passed out. Maybe the other girls suspect, but I know he’s awake. Listening to everything.

  Waving a hand, Buttercup tosses her buttery hair over her shoulder. “Doesn’t matter anyway. Look but don’t touch, remember? He’s Jade’s pet.”

  “He’ll be a Seedkeeper in no time,” another comments.

  Just one touch. It would be so easy for me to curl my hand in her hair. Make her scalp howl. With every passing second, I’m sucking back lightning because they keep treating him like a piece of meat. But he isn’t meat. He is earth and thunder, soil and soul, callused hands that can swallow mine, supple mouth that can harness mine, and fists that turn other men to footstools for just looking at me the wrong way.

  “Thank you, Flowers.”

  Jade’s voice causes them all to turn, some with lips plumping into pouts as she dismisses them. All but me.

  “You stay, Skeleton Flower.” I guess Serenity doesn’t exist to her anymore.

  In her hands, Jade holds a glass bottle filled with water along with a cloth. She waves her hand, signaling some sort of mechanism to lift the shed gate. Intrigued by this new display, I remain where I am as she approaches Sky and circles him. He still doesn’t raise his head, body slumped forward—at least until she pours water on the cloth and dabs at his wounds. Then, Sky gnashes his teeth and flings his head. There must be some sort of antiseptic in it. Responding to his body, Jade moves away when Sky’s head snaps. For a moment, I distract myself with the thought of that head connecting with hers, knocking her unconscious. Instead, I stride forward, my eyes connecting with Sky’s for a brief second before I summon enough courage to join Jade. I will see his back.

  “Each mark is unique,” she declares, clearing more blood off the skin. “These will heal. I broke the skin on a few, but not all.” She wipes her thumb against one, drawing a map of the lines. She could use a skin splicer, but if she did, there would be no scars. And then, one by one, Jade inserts the blockers in his ears to prevent him from hearing anything else.

  “Touch is important at this stage.” She moves the rag up, dabbing the blood crusts until his back is clean. “He must recognize the care in your fingers, register you are his healing. You hold power, but you also hold life. Notice the relief in his shoulders. I will grant him more.”

  Taking a small, circular container, Jade removes its top and rubs a white cream onto her hands. “It’s a scarification cream so the wounds will heal faster. It will sting at first. Careful,” she warns me just before applying it to Sky’s back. His hips tense from the action, but he doesn’t thrash like he did when she first touched him with the cloth, though part of me wonders if that’s because he knows I am now behind him.

  “Memorize my movements. Someday, you will do the same for other men. Mmm…there. Notice him inhale.” Her hand massages his shoulder, kneading her thumb into the flesh. Every touch stings me. “I want to know everything. I want to memorize him. I want to know his every feeling. I want to harbor his core.”

  No, that right belongs to me, I want to scream.

  When Sky arches to get closer to her fingers burrowing into his flesh, she comments, “Mmm…yes, I will have him soon.”

  Revolted, I try to dissuade her, “How do you know? He doesn’t seem that simple to me.”

  “First lesson, Skeleton Flower. All men are simple. Especially when they are young.” Jade stands, fingers trickling down to Sky’s waist. Lower.

  “And what about girls?” I step in front of Sky and ask the question to distract her, catching his gaze that narrows to a pinprick from Jade’s fingertips.

  Drawing her hand from Sky, Jade caps the cream and replies, “Some girls are simple; some are complicated. If you can recall the little Mum from earlier, well, girls like her are simple, uncomplicated creatures. I found her in a graphicker’s world where she had little purpose, but I planted her here as I have many. She is no surprise. No challenge. Not like him.” Jade places one hand on Sky’s chest. I conjure the image of busting her knuckles.

  “So, what am I?”
I divert her attention.

  “A gift,” Jade replies simply. “A gift that shows promise.” Then, Jade removes the blockers from Sky’s ears and poses the question, “Time for your last name, Kyle.”

  When Sky gives her a blank stare, Jade raises one finger with a sovereign smile before knocking the side wall of the Shed just once. One of the Seedkeepers enters with a covered tray of food. He hands it to Jade before she instructs him to lower Sky’s chains to give his body a reprieve. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen Sky fall, legs buckling from beneath him. To prevent any risk by leaving his arms free, the Seedkeeper chains Sky’s arms behind him, but at least he can finally rest. Not strung up like a slaughtered pig.

  “You see, Kyle…I can give just as much as I take.”

  Jade lowers a wedge of meat lathered in blackberry sauce up to his face, but Sky compresses his lips and refuses, shaking his head to the side. “Remember, Kyle…you gave me your first name. You made that decision, that choice to give just as I make the choice now to feed you.”

  It’s another manipulation tactic, tricking him into believing he’s holding a sample of power, but Jade is the law. That much is clear.

  “You think this is a game. But I assure you, it is no game to me.” Jade rubs one drop of sauce on his lower lip.

  Whether it’s some plan to keep up his strength or the voiceless ‘please’ I mouth behind Jade, Sky opens his mouth and accepts the food, though he barely chews before swallowing each bite she gives him. Eating without enjoying. Why can’t he just bite her fingers? What’s going on in his head? I doubt I’ll get much of an opportunity to ask between Jade’s visits and all the Flowers who come and go as they please.

  “Trinity.”

  Sky relinquishes our faux last name to her altar, and the butterflies inside my stomach throw their heads back in riotous laughter.

  “I don’t understand.” I shake my head when Jade closes the Shed door.

  “I will take you back to your room, so you may tell me what you don’t understand.”

  I touch a nearby branch, sweeping aside the leaves as she guides me to the Museum. “Why do you do this? What’s the point? It has to be more than control. You can pay anyone—”

  “You think I do this for the money?”

  Even when Jade interrupts, swinging around to thwart me before gripping my jaw, her emotions never slither to the surface.

  Her voice slaughters me, eyes like shackles, and her body—the prison. “That man in there has no sense of submission. And that is the ultimate pleasure. It is a power play. You show them you are the one in control. You must hold it, carry it, do it, feel it, and think it.”

  “How do you know when they’ve submitted?”

  “I will know.” Jade releases my jaw, then kisses my temple.

  “He’ll never love you.” The words are stupid. Too personal. But Jade doesn’t detect the underlying meaning.

  No, the madam holds her hand to the side to illustrate the point. “It’s not about love, Skeleton Flower. It’s not about lust. I may admire his body, and he will see mine, but he will never touch me. Just as none of my Seedkeepers ever touch me. It’s about domination and bringing a man under my thumb. In time, Kyle will thank me for such relief just as Luc will do for you someday. You take the responsibility, the stress, the burden, the power…so they don’t have to. It is an enormous millstone that few women are strong enough to bear, but I believe you are one of those few. And that is why I train you.”

  When she turns, I barricade the gate of my mouth, but it doesn’t matter. The butterflies are pesky. Far too curious and gutsy for my petty mouth to stop. When I arrive in my room, the dam breaks, and I summon the words, “What happened to you, Jade?”

  Expression turning grim, she closes the door.

  10

  T h E S k e l e T o n F l o W e r

  The next two days until the weekend are like symptoms of a pox. Slow, conveying just a hint of the sores and boils to come. Luc and I take our meals together with the barrier of his inhibitor forging a tapestry of silence between us. Finally, I can’t deny the humming in my stomach, the telltale vibration of butterfly antennae summoning me to share Jade’s plans about training me to dominate him.

  Luc’s chuckle is unexpected. “If she only knows how unnecessary such a notion is.”

  I lean back in my seat. Toy with the food on my plate. “What do you mean?”

  He sips his wine. For some reason, it seems to help him…like warming his blood is better than feeling nothing.

  “If she only knew how much dominion you already hold over me. That I will do anything you ask.” He shifts his eyes to mine, but he doesn’t render me defenseless.

  “But will you want to?” I counter.

  “No.”

  His answer is too quick, too effortless, and I know what Jade says about him is right, though I suppose I can’t blame him. Manipulation is a crucial part of Luc’s life’s work. Second nature for him just like pulling a trigger.

  “And what would you want?” I wonder without meeting his eyes, staring at the floor because it doesn’t matter. Because we know Jade dominates us both in her Venus Fly Trap.

  “Look at me,” Luc orders, but I don’t comply. When he stands, I tense at first, but one gaze from his eyes reassures me he isn’t angry. But he still uses his hand as a fetter around my wrist to raise me from the table so he can ask, “Do you want me to be frank, Serenity?”

  It’s such an open line I can’t resist. “No, I’d rather you just be Luc.”

  The momentary smile is worth it. I haven’t seen one since our arrival. He cups the side of my neck, thumb voyaging north to rub my lower lip. I shrink away, but he holds me in place even as I sense something underneath his skin—a pulsing vibration, a warning from the device.

  “Luc—”

  “I want to bury myself inside your heart. Remain there for eternity because it will take that long to explore it. You already live under my skin, so I’d wager that’s fair enough. I want your every thirst. I want your desires. I want to be the only man who can quench them. That is all I want.”

  And he drives himself from me, marching to the other side of the room, opening the door to the hall, and then slamming it behind him. The hollow left in his wake is cavernous. The silence is deafening, and I’m afraid all my thoughts will become teeth and gorge themselves on my brain, especially since in a few hours’ time, Jade will arrive with my exhibit costume.

  Due to my singularity, she’s arranged a midnight showing. I still don’t have the faintest idea where my exhibit will be held, whether in the spring or winter room, but I only have myself to blame for not examining my portfolio. Haven’t even flipped it open. Luc never gave me any literature. Nothing to study because I was born with the Swan in my blood. Why should I be expected to study anything? One glance at the title with the digital rendering of the flower is enough for me even if it strikes me as odd. The blossom looks so small, so innocuous. Little petals, simple oval shapes no bigger than my thumb with a juniper-green berry center and dull yellowed bristles.

  The knock on the door causes my curious fingers to retract. When no one enters of their own accord, I know it isn’t Magnolia or Jade—the only ones with an all-access pass to every part of the Museum…or rather the gargantuan manor. I open the door. The knock belongs to Chrysanthemum. I haven’t seen her since her whipping. Not even in the exhibits since I haven’t returned since Magnolia’s initial tour.

  Swinging the door open, I nod to her request. I’m getting used to the idea the Flowers here are vastly different from the Aviary Birds. So far, I haven’t encountered anyone like Peacock. Or Mockingbird. Thankfully.

  “Hmm…” Chrysanthemum twirls her head around the room. “Your room is smaller than mine. I wonder if that’s because you’re smaller.” The comment isn’t meant to be offensive. That much I can tell.

  By the way she flops onto my bed and strums her fingers along the quilt, it’s obvious Chrysanthemum isn’t shy. In the sun
light, her hair reminds me of bloated apricots, especially with it fanned over the white bedspread. Much taller than me, Chrysanthemum stretches so her dress rises to her thighs, her toasted-gold legs fluttering up and down over the side. Never one for caution, I decide to join her. Shifting my legs to the side of my body, I prop myself up on my elbow for support.

  “Your display is tonight,” Chrysanthemum states. She pivots her face to me, cheek caressing the bed, legs still not slowing from their minor flutter kicks like she’s swimming in place. “Wish I could be there to see it.”

  “Jade won’t allow the girls to view exhibits?”

  Chrysanthemum shakes her head and twists her neck so her chin drops onto the bed, face to the window. “Flowers,” she corrects. “Nope, not private ones. Supposed to be anonymous. Like our fantasies are anonymous.”

  “Our?”

  “Yep, our. We’re the biggest part of the fantasy. Why shouldn’t we get to own it?”

  I narrow my brows. “I’m confused. What do you mean by fantasies?”

  Chrysanthemum rolls onto her back, then raises her hand to capture one of the canopy’s transparent white sheets. “My client likes to pretend I’m his mermaid.” She places the sheet across her face, playacting at mystery. “I get a prosthetic tail and everything, and he reserves the private beach Jade owns so we can spend the day together. Jade believes in experiences here. She offers more, so clients pay more.”

  “What do you get out of it?”

  Chrysanthemum drops the sheet. “Are you kidding? I get to be a mermaid! Well…at least when it’s that client. He’s the most frequent repeat.” She flexes her arms above her head before slumping and telling me, “The rest of the time, I get to do whatever I want as long as I take care of my body. Jade insists on it. One Flower tried self-harm once. Ooh…by the time Jade got done with her. Eeesh!”

  I rub my eyes, kneading the passages there, considering how many clients harm the girls instead, but Chrysanthemum rolls onto her side to face me, advocating for her madam. “Jade has a certain way about her. A power. It’s like magic. Most girls have no choice but to lower their defenses and trust her. And she helps us embrace our true natures.”