The Garden

by Emily Shore

  A moment ago, I wanted to break Jade’s fingers for touching her. A moment ago, I wanted to smack that crown right off her head. Until I notice her expression in the mirror.

  Fawn smiles. She never smiles.

  Gazing down at her ensemble, I take in the pieces—the bodice of pearls wound around her chest and stomach down to her hips, the white chiffon, tulle, and lace skirt billowing tutu-style, and the white snowdrop designs etched on her cheeks.

  “Good of you to join us, Skeleton Flower,” Jade states as Luc’s reflection appears in the mirror behind mine. “I will arrive in an hour or so to begin preparations for your exhibit tonight, but I wager I will see you shortly before that.”

  “Fawn…” I kneel before her with my hand on the armrest of her chair.

  “Snowdrop,” she tells me while pressing her bare elbows together, angling her head to the side and smiling a little more. And then, she stretches out her hand—to Luc. He accepts just as she rises from the chair and approaches him. She leans into him, face against his chest.

  I overhear her murmur, “Thank you, Owl.”

  Dumbfounded, I watch as Luc cups her head, toying with one or two snowdrops until he sweeps both his hands down to hers and lowers them a little. He starts to hum, steps to the side, and Fawn giggles and follows him as he leads her into a simple box step. It doesn’t take more than a couple of notes for me to recognize the song is his lullaby. After a few more steps, Luc raises one of Fawn’s hands and summons her into a twirl.

  She laughs more. “Look, I’m a snow princess! I’m a mini Swan!”

  I swallow back the growth in my throat, but more just take its place—until Jade tucks a few tendrils of my hair behind my ear and whispers, “Don’t ruin her moment, Flower. She has never felt pretty until this night.”

  “But how—” I whisper, but Jade interjects.

  “Fawn was born in the Glass District. She was bred with a slave’s spirit.”

  I wonder what it would look like if I held it. Her spirit. At first, I think some fragile thing—delicate, tattered gauze, or a desperate flower clinging to just a couple of petals, the only ones left that men have not plucked. But Fawn can find laughter and merriment in this simple moment. She can feel pretty again. She’s choosing to smile.

  With no clients due to Luc’s bargain, Fawn finally has a chance to grow. For the first time, her spirit is glowing. Contagious, her swollen joy crashes into me like a runaway train, and I find myself wanting to chase it and climb aboard, but the tracks are incomplete. The ride still ends the same as it does for every other girl. Not in the Sanctuary. She could dance however she wants there.

  Fawn’s voice jerks me back to reality. “Dance with us, Serenity!”

  Hands extended to me, Luc and Fawn wait for me to join them. Feeling Jade press her hand against my back, I take a few steps forward, accepting. Luc and Fawn welcome me into their little dancing circle, and I can’t help but let my smile grow when she tips her head back, long curls prancing along the floor behind her. Whatever happens, I can’t ruin the bit of joy she has. It would be selfish to bitter it with the reminder of how Jade still exploits her, how eyes will still draw fantasies on her skin when she’s behind the glass.

  A few priceless moments more, and then, Jade intervenes. “Come along now, Snowdrop,” she instructs Fawn while placing a hand on the child’s back. As she leads her to the door, Fawn turns and waves at us, little white fingers fluttering in the air like snowflakes. Jade eyes us once as if it’s a reminder, but she doesn’t have much cause for concern. Not with Luc’s inhibitor. At least we can still interact with one another.

  “I know I should be happy for her,” I remark, shame twisting into my gut, provoking the butterflies there to kneel. “But she’s still not free. She was free for too short a time.”

  “Indeed. Provided Jade holds up her end of the bargain, Fawn will be safe here.”

  Is there really such a thing as safe anymore? She’ll still be behind glass. Studied like a Snowdrop specimen.

  “I’ll watch over her,” Luc adds. Thanks to Jade’s implant, I don’t know if it’s encouraging or not. If anything were to happen, Luc could do nothing.

  “She’s still a child.” I press my lips into a frown. “She shouldn’t be in those cages.”

  He nods, agreeing because he never did that to Finch. Or any child. Even if I am still considered a child apart from what mandates “legal age”. “If there was another solution…” But there isn’t. Not yet. It’s a stinging reminder I have to figure this whole thing out. And now, I have more problems.

  I don’t mention Chrysanthemum’s attack. It’s too great a risk with the inhibitor.

  “How is my brother?”

  The question is a good change of subject, and it’s the first time he’s asked.

  I hug my arms to my chest. “Jade knows who he is.”

  Luc stiffens at the comment until I follow with, “She knows he’s with the Sanctuary and he’s here for me, but she thinks I’m some sort of rescue fantasy. She doesn’t know we have a relationship. So, she’s keeping him alive, looking forward to the challenge.”

  Luc joins his hands behind his back. “Intriguing.” He doesn’t smile, but I recognize the tone in his voice. He’d used it on me in the Aviary the first night just after my exhibit because he was pleased. “She’s not all wrong.”

  As soon as Luc begins to circle me while expressing his reflections, my lips contort into a grimace, and I squeeze the seams of my eyes closer together. “About what? The rescue fantasy or the challenge?”

  “Serenity…” The scolding tone he uses on me, like I’m a child, is also familiar. Luc pauses from circling, keeping his chest just near my side as he finishes, “The former.”

  “Sky isn’t like that,” I deny, but I remember the harness all the same.

  “Come now, I have the same fantasy. Is it such a negative thing to want to rescue you?”

  I debate on whether to answer. Prefer honesty. “Seems like it’s my turn to do the rescuing, isn’t it?”

  “On that, I won’t deny.”

  I take one step toward the door, pausing to add while screwing my brows lower, “Your fantasy is much more developed than Sky’s.”

  Luc does smile then, opening his hands to the sides. “Guilty as charged. But I am an artist. Would you like to hear about my fantasy?”

  Shaking my head, I eye the door. “No.”

  He snatches up my arm before I can escape, reins me in, and I can sense the vibration beneath his skin, pulsing a threat. “Luc!” I arch, but he flattens his fingers against my lower back, cramming our hips together and leaning closer.

  “I would give you the ocean itself so you can spend your life swimming beneath the waves. I would give you an island where none can find us even if it means sailing to the far reaches of the earth and beyond if necessary.”

  He is close enough now I can feel his breath skidding against my lip. My eyes start to swell.

  “No one will ever find us there, and you will wake up to the sound of water every morning and sleep to it at night. The tide and my voice will be your lullaby. I will make a magic barrier if I have to. And I will kill anyone who tries to pass through.”

  When Luc bends to kiss me, the pulse has reached a dangerous staccato rhythm like an omen of war drums. So, even with his lips bowed on mine and his hands choking my waist, I summon up the strength to pull away, dragging my body from Luc’s despite how much it wants to linger in his heat. I don’t stop pulling away.

  Slamming the door behind me, I sidle up against it, gasping and sucking in air, winded from every single word. I’ve never mentioned my imaginary island to Luc. Not once. He’s paraded my ultimate dream like a stolen star right in front of my eyes. I turn my head to the side. My face feels the cold of the wood, but I can imagine him standing right behind it, transferring his warmth to this side. Brushing my fingers against the door, I flatten my palm into the wood, imagining his on the opposite side.

  How c
ould he know?

  “So happy to see you alive and well, Your Swanness!”

  At the sight of the figure flitting down the hall just as she used to, I tense, coming off the door. I defy my hands that stray to my chest. Instead, I step to my right and stand my ground, beckoning her forward with narrowed eyes, but Mockingbird holds up a hand and rolls her eyes.

  “No need, no need, Swan.” She wags one finger, then darts her body back and forth from one side to another just as birdlike. “You don’t need to worry about me anymore.” I draw in a breath, confused. Mockingbird jerks her body closer, neck tilting, mouth finding a smile a second later. “I don’t blame you for killing Mumsy. Water over the bridge. Or is it under? I get them mixed up. No, Jade is my mother now! She’s making me her Amnesia Rose. I go in for my procedure next week!”

  “Procedure?” Baffled, I listen to her next words.

  “Slate wiped clean!” She fans her hands in front of my eyes like bird wings unfolding. “Amnesia Rose. They use Forget. And I’ll forget everything. And Jade will make my body forget, too! No trace of clients up here…” She points to her temple and finishes, gesturing to her private area. “Or down here. Remember nothing! New body and new mind. Nothing to worry about.” As I part my eyes and mouth, Mockingbird thrusts her head forward and pecks my mouth with hers. “Bye, Swan!”

  As soon as she’s gone, Luc opens the door, slamming it behind him. “I heard every word.”

  “How is it possible?”

  “On the streets, it’s known as the Virgin Surgery. They perform it often in the Glass Districts but on a cruder level to save money. They get girls there addicted to Forget, but for the Garden, I’m sure Jade will spare no expense.” Luc’s brows sink, lethal and secret as a shipwreck. “She’ll use lasers to sow her up. And the Forget chemical will be used in her brain, targeting her memories. She’ll have the mind of a child.”

  “Luc,” I exclaim, horrified, gripping his arm where the inhibitor pulses frantically.

  He closes his eyes once, concentrating, and the inhibitor slows. After which, he turns and says, “Despite everything she’s done, I still found Mockingbird as an infant. She was my first hatchling. I can’t let go of that so easily.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Have a word or two with Jade.” And Luc disappears down one of the hallways.

  I still have a little time left before Jade and Magnolia will arrive to prepare me. Though I am restricted to the quarters during business hours, this period still counts as rehearsal for the Flowers. I want to see Nightingale.

  In the rehearsal area, I discover her, practicing in one of the glass displays. She is even more stunning than in the Aviary. Her namesake flowers crisscross over her neck, covering her breasts and her privates but leaving her comely stomach bare. An elegant mask of black lace flirts with her face like a serenade. Attached to her wrists are sheathes of black fabric shaped like petals, which Nightingale raises as she practices posing. Since there are others in the room, she gives no indication she knows me. Little different from our first encounter in the Aviary, Nightingale performs her superior posture, eyes lofty and regal as they always are.

  “A rare beauty indeed.” The familiar voice catches my attention. I flick my head to the right, surprised at his presence.

  “Neil?”

  15

  S e c O n d M e e T i n g s

  Folding his hands behind his back, the man nods to me and gestures to Nightingale’s exhibit. “Not as rare as you, but worthy of the Garden all the same. Just the way her hair is coiled into that low bun is—”

  “What are you doing here?” I interrupt.

  He refers to the barcode tattoo on his wrist. “It’s an all-access pass as it were. To any Museum or Glass District or graphicker studio in the country.”

  I turn back to watch Nightingale. “Yes, I’ve heard of them. Jade says you are well connected.”

  He sniggers at my comment. Charm practically oozes out of his pores. “To put it mildly.” Neil inclines his body toward mine. “Please…walk with me?” He motions to the other exhibits. “I enjoy the opportunity to see the Flowers while they are preparing.”

  Still tentative, I accept but don’t take the hand he offered. Since he doesn’t seem to mind the faux pas, I stray a little closer to his side. Unlike Luc, I don’t feel overwhelmed by Neil’s shadow even though he’s a little taller than the former Aviary director. Not as tall as Sky but enough my head barely reaches his shoulder. I’m lucky enough to reach Sky’s chest. No, Neil’s shadow seems just as casual as his personality, radiating as much appeal as his voice.

  “I enjoy seeing the flaws they try to correct in time for their openings,” he reveals, gliding past a few displays with me, circling the room. “I prefer them more real.” He bows lower to add, “Though none more real than you. Ahh…”

  He straightens when we arrive at Snowdrop’s visit. “The young ones are a treat. Children alone are a treat. Do you realize how low the birth rate has plummeted? The Centre, despite their best efforts, haven’t managed to make much of a dent. With this new disease on the horizon, any child holds the most promise.”

  “Disease?” I lift a brow.

  “Yes, a new and rather alarming one, I’m afraid. Quite debilitating and degenerative. Blood-borne and sexually transmitted, of course. Temple candidates are screened very carefully in these times.”

  “And the clients?”

  When Fawn waves to me from behind the glass, the action distracts us both. I catch Neil’s smile before she climbs onto the small pedestal ordained for her. Mistaking the gesture, Neil waves back and remarks, “Lovely child. Shall we continue on?”

  “I should get back to my room.”

  “Serenity…”

  Neil stops me before I can rush away. His hand on my arm is the first time he’s touched me. It isn’t like Luc. Luc’s warmth is fleeting, on the surface because he leaves me with ice and frost inside my blood. But Neil’s warmth lingers, mushrooming like melting wax into my skin.

  “I want to give children a new future. I want to give the next generation hope beyond this new disease and the diminishing population. Keep this in mind…please.”

  I nod before tugging myself away, hearing him call as I exit, “Looking forward to your display.”

  “I don’t understand.” I bite down on my lower lip, plumper from whatever Magnolia has applied. They’ve spent hours preparing me, and this is the result.

  “It is my way,” Jade announces as she cups my bare shoulders. “To leave them wanting more. Bare everything first and then take it away. Force them to seek more.” She traces a finger down the tight line of my cleavage with a smile.

  “It’s hard to breathe,” I complain, referring to the corset bodice that encases me like a seed pod, thrusting up the edges of my swollen breasts.

  “It always is,” Jade enunciates before placing a few random curls across my chest.

  I admit I love the tiny white pearls stuck to my eyelashes. Magnolia nears me with two brooches in her hand, both in the design of Skeleton Flowers with narrow pearl strands hanging from them. Her delicate fingers pin them above my forehead so the pearls dance along half my face. Around and on my eyelids, Jade has painted a white scene of flowers while Magnolia adds a silvery sheen to my cheeks and mouth. Skeleton Flowers stuck in curving patterns all along my legs are the most uncomfortable part of the costume. Magnolia’s hands and Jade’s are so similar—so steady as they dressed and designed me. Nothing like Dove and her soft fingertips. No, Jade and Magnolia design with purpose.

  “Not much time left,” Jade dictates while positioning a finger underneath my chin so she can inspect my face. “Tonight, you will be the undoing of all eyes.”

  As usual, the exhibit rains. The melody is different this time but no less possessing. Between the minor chords of the violin, the somber wordless chants of the background voices, and the fog pirouetting across the surface of the lake, I can believe I am the ghost haunting the he
arts of those who watch me. Somewhere behind one of these glass panes, Luc observes—the only one who views me as more angel than ghost, though I am neither. Or if I am an angel, I am certainly a fiery one. All the petals on my skin turn naked at the touch of the rain. The more it showers, the heavier the corset becomes. Harder to breathe. If my legs had to bear any weight other than the flowers, I’m certain I’d topple into the water.

  Just as I reach the exhibit center, I slip on the wet stone. I catch myself but choose a different path. As Jade told me before, I can improvise. According to Luc, improvisation is what I do best. So, I lower myself, settling my back against the stones. Then, I release my hair to the shallow water’s rolling kiss and stretch one arm up to catch raindrops.

  So different from the Aviary. There, I could hear the praise of the audience, could watch their breath fogging up the glass, could touch the window and watch them mimic me. In the Garden, the walls beyond this exhibit are soundproof. Nothing but the tempting melody. Arching my neck, I wipe the stone with my hair and open my mouth to drink the warm rain that dwindles to the sound of the closing melody until there is nothing left but a few drips. Jade announces the end before opening one of the doors to bid me exit.

  And she guides me back to the same room from before. I can’t read her expression. Her words are enough, however.

  “I hope he’s changed his mind and decides to fulfill his appetite,” she confesses with her lips puckered, pout-like. “After all, your performance was stunning. Regardless, I’ve never encountered a client like Neil Bloode before.”

  So that’s his last name, I muse as we reach the door.

  “Ahh, we meet again, Serenity.” Neil smiles upon my entrance, sounding even more enthusiastic than last time as I stand before him. “Unrivaled performance.”

  He presses a button on his chair that turns off the playback video on the wall projection before gesturing to the side of the room. “Towels there if you wish. And a dress. I’ve secured a longer meeting this time. I’d prefer you don’t catch cold.”