by Cutter, Leah
“No.”
At the lady’s pointed stare, Kai amended her statement to, “No, thank you, ma’am.”
“But I insist,” the lady said, splashing brown liquid into a porcelain tea cup that had pink and purple pastel pansies painted on the outside.
At least it looked clean.
“How else am I going to tell your fortune if we don’t drink the tea?”
“I’m not sure, ma’am,” Kai said, accepting the cup and saucer, as well as two sugar lumps. “Like you usually do?” Kai had only seen the lady stare off into the distance before declaring a body’s fate.
“No, this is a special fortune. Just for you,” the lady assured her. “Using the grand old tradition of tasseomancy. Something your people invented, you know.”
Kai stiffened at the dig, but she let it pass. “What’s tasseomancy?”
“The reading of tea leaves. So, do, drink up.”
Kai carefully picked up the cup. It fit in her palm, delicate and beautiful, like an open blossom. Maybe that was something else she’d inherited from Mama: the ability to hold a cup and drink tea.
The tea tasted smoky, despite the sugar she’d added, and stayed on her tongue. It was nothing like the iced tea her aunts forced on her. She couldn’t decide if she liked it or not.
“How is your dear mama?” the lady asked.
“She…disappeared,” Kai admitted. She didn’t see any reason to lie. “Took her rooms and vanished.” Kai knew the Taoists didn’t have her. Mama was too—slippery.
“I taught her that trick,” the lady purred.
Kai had to swallow quickly so she wouldn’t choke on her mouthful of tea. “Really?” She cleared her throat. “So you know Mama?”
“Yes, yes. That was why I wanted you to go find her,” the lady said with a pointed look. Then she smiled, with something approaching cheer. “We were roommates once. Over a century ago. In Paris.”
“I didn’t know,” Kai said. Had there been a falling out between the two women? That would explain some of the lady’s anger with her, the daughter.
“Of course you didn’t, you foolish thing. You’d turned your back on your true heritage, hadn’t you? So like your mama, in so many ways.”
Kai blinked but didn’t reply. She wanted to stay on the lady’s good side, if there were such a thing. “Do you know where Mama’s gone?” Kai asked.
“Good heavens, no,” the lady replied. “But she’s quite safe. No one can find her, or get to her, wherever she is.”
Though Kai didn’t trust the lady as far as she could throw her, she believed her. “Thank you.” She’d known the damn Taoists hadn’t nabbed her.
“You’re welcome, my dear!” The lady beamed at her and poured Kai another cup of tea.
Kai looked down, surprised. Maybe she’d liked the tea more than she realized.
Or maybe there was something in the tea, that was affecting her senses. Because Kai felt words piling up and she couldn’t swallow them down. “Is there any advice you’d give me? I’ve only just met Mama, and been introduced to the court.”
“You really are much better mannered than I’d thought,” the lady said, her smile less toothy and sharp. “Go to the court, visit, but never stay there. Politics.” She gave a delicate shudder. “They’re quite deadly.”
Kai decided the lady meant that literally, especially since the prince really thought his father would kill him.
“What about the Taoist priests?”
“Ah, the court’s in quite a bind there, aren’t they? They need the magic of the Taoists to live their long lives, but the Taoists have been corrupted.”
“I have to stop them,” Kai said. The room spun, and Kai was suddenly dizzy, as if she’d been matching Jimmy doing shots. Haze crept into the corners of the room, dark spiderwebs that Kai dared not look too closely at. The traffic noises grew distant, and all Kai could smell was tea.
“I know you think you do,” the lady said. “Now, let’s see to your fortune.”
The lady stood with the tea pot in her hands. Then she tilted her head back, opened her mouth, and lifted the pot.
Kai shuddered as the lady then unhinged her jaw. It grew out of proportion, heavy and scaled, accepting all the tea the lady poured onto it. The stream of tea undulated, as if Kai watched in slow motion. Clumps of leaves poured out at the end, and a thick, inhuman tongue licked at them.
When the lady finished, she turned her shark-dead eyes to Kai, her mouth still open, showing row upon row of teeth.
“Cloudy,” came the grating voice. “Forked. Like one hundred fox tails. Most ways lie death. Caged, drowning, or worse.”
Kai shivered, unable to move.
“There are a few bright paths, though, back into the sunshine and delicious heat.”
The lady stretched her jaw, extending it, then shrinking it back to human size. Her eyes returned to their usual indeterminate blue.
“You need to get your hair done, my dear.”
Chapter Eleven
Kai found herself standing on the sidewalk in the afternoon heat and stillness, in front of the wall that still held the lady.
“Goddamn it!” Kai shouted. She hit the wall with the palm of her hand, bruising it. “What the hell kind of fortune is that? Go get my hair done? Where? Why? What the fuck?”
But the lady wasn’t talking anymore.
A young woman walking her dog crossed the street to avoid Kai. The afternoon heat, combined with her anger, made her break out in a sweat all over.
Get her hair done. Where? A headache trickled across her forehead. Maybe slamming her head against the wall—literally—would make her feel better.
Instead, Kai turned around, leaned her back against the wall, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes.
“Her kind” found things.
Her talent had better not have bugged out with half the city.
Surprisingly, Kai felt a tug to her left.
Maybe she could find this hair place and it would be okay.
The pull was consistent and stronger than usual. Was that a leftover effect from the lady’s tea? Kai still wasn’t certain why she’d said what she had.
She vowed never to accept the lady’s offer of tea again.
Two blocks down, three blocks over, then back another block, and Kai found herself in front of an old house sitting on Esplanade Boulevard. It sat alone, apart from the modern apartment buildings surrounding it. It was the only single house for blocks, sitting next to the park.
It looked more like a 1950s rambler than a traditional creole cottage. However, someone had fancied it up by painting it a pinkish-red, then adding scrollwork under the eaves and ornate fixtures around all the windows and doors, enhancing the fancy by painting them a mustard yellow. The sidewalk leading to the stairs was smooth, and no weeds grew in the cracks.
No sign sat in the trimmed grass on the lawn. Only when Kai drew closer did she see the small plaque over the door, painted black, with the words Rapunzel’s Beauty Shop in gold letters.
Before Kai went up the stairs, another woman came out the door. The air that blew from inside stank of hair bleach, chemical color, overly sweet shampoo…
…and xita.
The white woman with the beautiful gold hair curling perfectly over her shoulders smiled at Kai as she walked by. She was human, and Kai had the impression that she was also extremely pleased with herself.
Kai paused for another moment. Her senses told her this was the right place. The lady in the wall—who, as far as Kai knew, was never wrong—had told her to get her hair done.
So what if there were xita there and she was all alone, with no one available whom she could call for help?
She needed to move forward, not back.
After taking another gulp of clean air, Kai pushed herself up the stairs and through the door.
A wire stand of plastic bottles with fancy graphics stood directly to her right, walling off the sleek couch under the window. To the left was closed door. Lig
ht-colored hardwood made up the floor. A podium with a bored young woman who had red streaks in her hair stood guard in front of the long room with all the beauty stands.
The woman remained engrossed in her magazine, so Kai took another step forward and said, “I’d like to get my hair done.”
“Sorry, we’re clo—” The woman interrupted herself. “Oh. It’s you.”
Ru Yi, from the Floating Court, stared at Kai, as hard as Kai stared back.
* * *
It only took Kai a little bit of persuading to get Ru Yi to see her privately, in the office.
Wooden slatted shades blocked the view from the window. The desk looked like it had come from an old factory, made out of metal and painted that strange avocado green. Piles of books, magazines, papers, and knickknacks covered the desk and crowded in around the modern computer monitor.
The shelves opposite the window were similarly full. Behind the modern, Ikea-like wooden chair that Kai sat on stood an antique dresser, with its own piles of things.
Kai felt immediately at home in the mess. She was certain Ru Yi knew every stack, every scrap of paper, every prized trinket.
“So,” Ru Yi drawled. She gave Kai a glittering false smile. “Y’all need your hair done? Is it for the ball tonight?”
“Ball?” Kai asked, confused.
“Of course, that’s right, you weren’t invited, were you? Or perhaps the invitation got lost, along with your mama.”
“I don’t need my hair done for some ball,” Kai replied, trying to hold onto her temper. She took a deep breath and regretted it: The stench from the shop just made her head pound more. “The lady in the wall sent me.”
“Really,” Ru Yi asked, clearly disbelieving her.
When Kai merely nodded, Ru Yi looked more thoughtful. “She don’t normally deal with our kind.”
Kai didn’t bother pointing out that she was still mostly human, which made her different. “I need a talisman. My talisman.” Kai said. “She told me to get my hair done.”
“Oh, Cuz,” Ru Yi said, a sly smile showing up. “I’d be happy to make a talisman out of your hair.” She paused, but when Kai didn’t say anything, she continued. “But it’ll cost ya.”
Kai nodded. She’d figured that would be the case. Luckily, she still had some hundreds left from Rilke.
“I suppose you need it today,” Ru Yi said with a sigh.
“Yeah, I do,” Kai said.
“You’re lucky I have everything here, then,” Ru Yi said. She stood up, then paused and turned serious for a moment. “I’m just making you a talisman. I ain’t gonna teach you how to do one. ’Cause once you learn, you gotta make ’em when someone asks.”
“Or else?” Kai asked, also standing.
“Or else you’ll lose the ability. And your head. Let’s go make you beautiful,” Ru Yi said, walking out of the office.
Kai didn’t want to follow her. No matter what Ru Yi said, Kai didn’t trust her.
But she had no choice. She needed this talisman.
Hopefully Ru Yi was as good as she seemed to think she was.
* * *
Ru Yi led Kai past a row of chairs, each set before a hanging, gilded mirror. Only two of the chairs were occupied. The sound of dueling blow-dryers filled the space and almost hid the sound of Ru Yi’s heels against the hardwood floor.
Past the beauty stations, to the right, was another smaller room. Frosted glass filled the window, hiding the outside. More metal shelves stood here, filled with bottles of dye and other hair care products.
Ru Yi pointed to a black chair with white arms sitting by itself in the center of the room. “Sit,” she said.
The chair moved when Kai sat, the seat sliding forward. She stiffened. What the hell?
“Relax,” Ru Yi said. “I’ll just tip you back to wash your hair first.”
Kai sat back as Ru Yi rolled a portable sink across the hardwood floor, setting it behind the chair.
“Non-scented shampoo, yes?” Ru Yi asked.
Grateful, Kai nodded. It was one of the reasons she hated going to a salon—the chemicals in the shampoo made her eyes burn for days.
“How can you stand working here?” Kai asked, relaxing as Ru Yi sprayed perfectly warm water across her scalp.
“I own this place,” Ru Yi said. “Mostly, I don’t work a chair. Just for special clients, or to keep my hand in.”
“Why Rapunzel?” Kai asked, practically purring as Ru Yi used her nails and massaged Kai’s scalp.
“Why not?” Ru Yi said lightly.
Kai knew there was more story there, but she also knew it wasn’t a trail she needed to follow just then.
After a quick rinse, Ru Yi wrapped Kai’s hair and head in a thick towel and brought her out to the stands.
Everyone else had left. Just one stand remained lighted. Their footsteps echoed across the hardwood floor.
“Let’s get your hair prepared first,” Ru Yi said. She pulled a comb easily and competently through Kai’s hair, smoothing it out, then pulling it back and capturing it in a low ponytail. Then she combed out the tail again.
“You’ve never had a talisman before, have you?” Ru Yi asked Kai, looking over her shoulder and catching her eye in the mirror.
“No,” Kai said resisting the urge to shake her head and mess up whatever Ru Yi was doing with it. “Never even heard of ’em until yesterday.” And she still wasn’t sure she liked the fact that magic was real, that anyone could do it with the proper talisman.
“Good,” Ru Yi said.
Kai didn’t trust her smile.
“I’m assuming you want full tail, though, right? That would be the most powerful.”
“Yes,” Kai said slowly, though she wasn’t certain what she was agreeing to.
“Good. Then I’ll snip it off here,” Ru Yi said, showing a point just above where all Kai’s hair was gathered together.
“You’ll do what?” Kai asked, alarmed.
“Don’t worry. I think y’all could rock a pixie cut,” Ru Yi assured her.
“You have to cut my hair off?” Kai said, not caring how high her voice was going.
“That’s the only way to make a really powerful talisman,” Ru Yi said. “And since you’ve never made one from your hair before, this one will be especially strong.”
“I don’t want to cut my hair!” Kai complained. She loved her hair, loved how it felt against her back, loved how it fanned out around her when she slept. She knew she had the sexiest bedhead in the morning. Caleb and Orlan both loved it, too.
“Darling, it’s the only way to make a powerful, permanent talisman. You’ll never have to renew the magic in it.”
“Talismans aren’t permanent?” Kai asked, remembering the blood talisman that human alchemist had worn. The professor had said something about that as well, hadn’t he?
“The kind I’m creating will be permanent for you. It’s powered by you. If you gave it away, well…” Ru Yi paused. “I wouldn’t give it away. Or lose it. Not ever.”
“And it’ll be strong?” Kai said. She needed something strong to get through the Summer Palace walls.
“Strongest type of talisman,” Ru Yi said.
“Do it,” Kai said through gritted teeth.
She could always grow it back, right?
* * *
Kai told herself she wasn’t going to cry like a little girl when Ru Yi cut off her ponytail. It wasn’t going to physically hurt. Her hair was all dead, right? It wasn’t like she was cutting into her skin, taking out a bone.
Still, a few tears leaked out as Ru Yi took a shining pair of special gold scissors, extra large, strong, and magic, and snipped off her ponytail.
Ru Yi crooned over her prize, holding the shorn end in one hand and stroking the long tail. “This is gonna make a fine, fine, talisman.” She laid the tail on her station, then used a blue ribbon to tie both ends tight.
“This is the tricky part,” Ru Yi warned Kai as she gathered half a dozen little pots together. Her e
yes warmed from almost black to a reddish brown, and her pupils grew long. Fox ears appeared back on top of her head, and the tip of her nose turned black.
Kai didn’t know the language Ru Yi spoke as she petted the ponytail slowly, but she could tell it was ancient and powerful.
That part of Kai’s brain that she’d been ignoring told her she could know, she could learn this.
Kai shoved back on that tiny voice, extra hard.
Not now.
Ru Yi finished the incantation and took a deep breath. She gave Kai an encouraging smile and switched to a song, low and soft, as she sprinkled herbs into the hair that dissolved and bound it together: rosemary and chicory, cinnamon and cayenne.
The tail took on its own blue-black sheen, and the hair crackled with energy, alive with power.
The work impressed Kai, despite her doubts in Ru Yi. Even sitting on the station, Kai could feel its strength. It should work on the gates.
And it was magic, something Kai had never thought she’d possess.
As a last effect, Ru Yi used two blue ribbons with a tiny ring of clear-green jade looped through each to tie first one end of the long ponytail, then the other. “Use those to focus,” she said, fingering the jade. “They’ll help you get what you imagine.”
Ru Yi paused before she handed the talisman over to Kai. “It’s very powerful,” she warned. “You must keep it with you, always. Don’t ever let anyone else use it.”
Kai nodded, accepting her hair back gratefully.
“Don’t lose that.”
“I know,” Kai said. She hadn’t felt empty without the talisman in her hands, but with it, she felt more whole. She suspected she might travel to the ends of the earth to get it back. With reluctance she let go of it, placing it in the bottom of her bag, where it lay curled against her side.
“Now, let’s see what we can do with the rest,” Ru Yi said.
Kai almost shook her head no. It was on the tip of her tongue as well.
“Trust me, darling. I’ll make you look amazing,” Ru Yi promised, her smile closer to sincere.
Kai sighed and sat back in the chair. She’d trusted Ru Yi this far. Might as well let her do her worst.
* * *
Kai didn’t recognize herself in the mirror with her pixie cut. She looked like a totally different girl. The cut accentuated her eyes, brought out her delicate features with its delicate wisps.