The Ascent to Godhood

by JY Yang

  I also met Tensors for the first time. All my training did nothing to help me deal with them. A clear-minded Tensor could throw you across the room without lifting a finger, or crush you into the ground, or shock you with electricity. Like this. Ha! Look at you jump. It took me months before I could go near one without shaking. Ironic, you know? If you think about what I became.

  When I came of age, my first offering was snapped up by a Tensor named Chong. A short, bulky man with a mean sense of humor, he took himself extremely seriously. He had been eyeing me for some time. He was, at that time, assistant to the Minister of Agriculture, and in the noble houses we danced in, it was whispered that he was next in line for that post. Yes, I know you’ve never heard of him. Don’t jump ahead. You’ll find out why later. Chong was busy ass-patting the senior administration, so he threw extravagant parties every two weeks, and I became a fixture at those parties. He liked me. He liked me a lot. And he knew I was ripening, so he pressured Madam Wong to let him have the first bite. I was coveted in those days. A real prize. But how could Madam Wong say no to him? He was going to be Minister.

  Chong wasn’t gentle, but it could have been worse. The stories I’ve heard: I knew I got lucky. Chong was ugly and clumsy and selfish in bed, but he was easy to please. Easy to manipulate. He liked me, and he thought I liked him, too. I became a regular in his bedchambers. Probably more than his wife. Small, quiet woman. I pitied her. Imagine spending most of your life trapped in the gilded cage of a mansion, only free to do whatever pleased a man like Chong. As though the fortunes gave everyone else a plate of rice and she got a bucket of shit instead.

  I told myself, I am not going to be like that. I will find a way to become someone who can do as she likes.

  And then the fortunes brought me to her, and my life was set upon a path I could never have imagined.

  I see that look in your eye. I know what you’re thinking: it was love at first sight, me instantly ensnared by the webs of fortune. What a romantic idea. But reality is nothing like that.

  Imagine. I was a courtesan, a dancing girl, and she a guest—the middle child of the Protector, a girl fated to be married off to some sniveling bureaucrat as a reward for his good behavior. But still. She was nobility, and I was nothing. The first time she saw me, it was at one of Chong’s parties. As his influence grew, so did his appetite for wine and women. There were parties every week, sometimes twice a week. Everyone who wanted to be someone tried to attend them. Tedious as hell, but it gave me the opportunity to charm the upper crust. I was sitting in Chong’s lap, laughing at one of his mediocre jokes, and there was this girl, staring from across the room. I don’t know why I caught her eye, or why she caught mine. She was so focused. All this music and song and dance around her, yet she was fixated on me. Bloody creepy.

  Later, I found out who she was, and that made it worse. Why would the Protector’s daughter be interested in me? She led a life in the heavens, and I was a bug in the dirt. Her wordless attention was unsettling.

  Hekate didn’t show up at the next party, or the one after that. Every time, I looked specifically for her, and every time, I was glad my search failed. I began to relax. I was happy for our interaction to remain nothing more than one night of acute discomfort on my part. Even as the party favorite of a rising star, I knew that the Protector’s family lived in a world beyond mine. A momentary brush with their like was all I needed and wanted. No more.

  A month after our first meeting, there was a grand party in the Great High Palace itself. The Protector’s youngest had just had his gender confirmed, which called for a huge and extravagant celebration. Everyone who was anyone was invited, and naturally they needed entertainers. Of course. Couldn’t lay that burden on the Protector’s concubines, could they? Palace staff sent for girls from all around the Protectorate. Madam Wong picked a contingent of six from her menagerie as an offering of congratulations. This included me, of course. By now, my status was quite unrivaled within her ranks of girls.

  All of us were terrified, but more than that, we were excited. The Great High Palace—imagine! None of us had been inside, or even near the grounds. We had only heard stories of its size and opulence. That you had to take a cart to get from one end to the other. That its gardens were bigger than any mansion and had trees that grew nowhere else in the Protectorate, or on Ea, for that matter. We thought the fruit of those trees could grant you immortality, or the power of flight, or the ability to shapeshift. We whispered about ponds the width of lakes, in whose depths swam gold and silver fish as big as horses. The rafters and nooks of the house rippled with our wild tales.

  Of course, I knew that she would be there, that strange daughter, but I gave it no thought. Of course she wouldn’t remember me. Why would she? I was a dancing girl she’d seen only once, many months ago. I would be busy, she would have her filial duties to attend to. Nothing was going to happen.

  On the day of the party, a cart came for us several hours before the festivities started. The six of us were primed, powdered, scented, and decorated. Everything had to be ready early, all warmed up when the guests arrived.

  Was the Great High Palace anything like I’d expected? Yes and no. How do you compare a dream and reality? They don’t exist in the same world and don’t follow the same rules. The palace seemed as large as a country to me, with an uncountable number of rooms and corridors and courtyards. Was it as magical as it had been in the stories we shared with one another? Of course not. But it was more intimidating because it was real. We all felt awe, terror. If you’d been inside, you would too.

  The party was held in the main receiving hall and spilled out to neighboring buildings. The main hall could only seat seventy for a banquet, after all. The two hundred dancing girls were split into eight groups and rotated amongst the buildings so that the attendees got a sample of all of us. No, we weren’t expected to service them all—are you nuts? None of that was going to happen under that Protector’s nose. You weren’t born yet, were you? You’re too young. So, the only Protector you’ve known is Hekate. Well. Her father was famously prudish. He didn’t even make use of his concubines; they were just for show. Tradition and all. His son and close associates kept them busy. We were really only there to dance. Everything to be kept above the navel, you know?

  I first caught a glimpse of her in the main hall, by the front but not at the same table as the Protector. Our eyes met like this—and my heart jumped in my chest—but her attention immediately turned somewhere else. I thought, She doesn’t remember me. Good.

  There were so many people in that hall, greatest of all the Protector himself. I’d seen light captures of him, of course, but in person he seemed so much . . . smaller. For the first time, it struck me that he was just another human being. An imperfect man, with bad teeth and sagging folds of skin. A man who turned red with wine, just like anybody else. Who choked on food when laughing, just like anybody else.

  He was mortal, just like any of us.

  After an hour, my group was sent to the next hall to sing and dance and smile our fake smiles. That was that for my interaction with the Protector’s daughter, I thought. Maybe I was disappointed. I think I was mostly relieved.

  Halfway through the night, a royal servant came and tapped me on the shoulder. From her makeup I knew she was somebody’s handmaid. She said, Follow me. Was I in trouble? What did she want? I was worried, but I followed her anyway. As the lowest of the low, all I could do was follow orders. My life was nothing. My wants were nothing.

  It was already dark, and I was nervous. The loose sunballs floating between the rafters cast pools of shadow upon the ground. Within them I imagined all kinds of assassins or thieves or similar bastards lying in wait. I wasn’t supposed to be there. I wasn’t supposed to leave the main celebrations. I could only imagine the terrible fates that would befall me.

  Still, I forged on. I was curious to see what would happen, you see.

  We stopped at a garden square. In its middle was a neat pavilio
n in which a small figure stood, unmoving and straight-backed.

  She’s waiting for you, the girl said.

  I went obediently to the pavilion. Even before the figure turned around, I knew exactly who she was. Still, I was completely unprepared for her. My heart stopped in my chest when I saw her face. I felt something precious break in me. You know how it feels—in here.

  She said, You’re Chong’s pet.

  It was the first time I’d heard her speak. And her voice—it was nothing like I’d expected. It was so . . . soft. And it had a texture to it, like paper.

  I was so surprised, I said nothing in return. She reacted like I was an idiot: Are you Chong’s pet? I’m talking to you.

  I snapped back: What the hell do you want? See, I get rude when I’m poked. In the dancing house, they sometimes called me Spiny Badger.

  Luckily for me, she wasn’t offended. In fact, she laughed. She was so used to people bowing and scraping for her, my vulgarity was refreshing. She said, So, this is the kind of woman Chong likes? I was right; sniveling weasels like him always want to be bullied in bed.

  I told her, You still haven’t answered my question.

  She laughed again and took my hand, like this. I was shocked and pulled away. My anger had shielded me from how much danger I was in, but that point of contact brought it all back. She could kill me without consequence. Or do worse. So what if she had no political power—she was the Protector’s daughter and I was just a dancing girl. A dancing girl who should have been at the party and not wandering the tangled guts of the Palace. If she said she caught me trying to steal the Protector’s treasures, who would they believe?

  But she didn’t look angry. Her thoughts were hard to read even back then. That cheebyekia was a master at showing exactly what she wanted people to see. And I didn’t know that yet.

  She said, I need your help.

  I said, For what? What could you possibly want from a dancing girl like me?

  She said, You know Chong, don’t you? You’re the only one who spends time inside his bedchambers.

  I knew right away she wanted me to do something dangerous. Which was scary. But it was also exciting. I was still young. I viewed every unexpected circumstance as a chance to change my life.

  I said, Don’t tell me you want me to kill him.

  She laughed again. And back then, when she was a young woman, she had a beautiful laugh. It was like . . . I don’t know, like light reflecting off a lake. Whatever, I’m not a poet.

  She told me, I want you to steal his private records. His letters, his business ledgers. I want you to bring them to me.

  Why? I asked.

  And she said, Because I want to get rid of him, why else?

  Immediately, I was suspicious. I was young, I was naive, but I was not an idiot. She didn’t know me. She didn’t know what I thought. How did she know I wouldn’t spill everything to Chong instead?

  I asked, Why do you think I’ll do it?

  And she said, You steal from him, don’t you?

  You see, I’d been taking things from clients’ rooms. Small things, things I thought they wouldn’t miss. The bastards were all so rich, who would notice a bauble or two missing? A few of the girls and I had a network inside the dancing house. After we had satisfied our clients, we put a few drops of sleeping draught in their sweet wine and then hid small trinkets in specially designed pouches in our clothes. The trinkets were worth a lot on the black market, and we had a contact who fenced them for us.

  You see, us dancing girls, we weren’t paid. The house provided us with food and clothes and shelter; what more could we want? We knew that if we wanted to escape that life, and make choices of our own, we needed money.

  But I was careless, and maybe a bit greedy. If I had taken only one or two things, Chong wouldn’t have noticed. But every time I went to his place, I made sure to steal something. Stupid, right? After months of this, Chong realized that many of his small statues and penholders and other jeweled things were missing, and I became the main suspect. He had talked to some Tensors about setting traps to catch me with my ass unwashed. He talked loud enough that Hekate had caught wind of it.

  So, she said, We have a common enemy. I can help you, and you can help me.

  Why do you want to blackmail Chong? I asked.

  And she said, I don’t want to blackmail him. I want to destroy him.

  I figured out the reason later, by piecing together hints I gathered. How much do you know about the Protectorate’s line of succession? Surely, something that important would reach you even on the renegade seas? No?

  Alright, look. It’s like this. The Protector is succeeded by the first child of the next generation of royals. That means the children of the current Protector, and the children of all their siblings. The pool can get quite large. Hekate’s father was actually second in line—he had an older sister who was Protector before him, but she died young, some kind of sickness, and he ascended to the Celestial Throne. He was due to be succeeded by the oldest of the next generation.

  That was Sanao Kamine, the first and only child of the Protector’s sister, the one who died. Hekate’s oldest cousin. She didn’t like him; she thought her older brother, born a few years after Kamine, would be a better, fairer ruler. And it was true: Kamine was a shitbucket. He wasn’t just corrupt and petty; he was also lazy and vain. He would have driven the Protectorate into the ground.

  It’s probably hard for someone your age to imagine, but in those days, the Protectorate was struggling to hold itself together. There was unrest in the south, where the Kebangilan royalty were quietly stoking rebellious sentiment. The Protectorate needed a strong leader if it was to thrive, and that little bastard was not it.

  Now, at that time, Chong was on Kamine’s side in the war of succession. So, naturally, he and Hekate were enemies. But she never said any of this to me. She was too clever for that. She let me think she was carrying out some petty vendetta against Chong, because highborns have nothing better to do.

  I said, What do I gain from this? I was on the hind foot in this exchange, but as a young fool, I was always testing my luck.

  And would you know it, my luck held. Because she just laughed. And then she kissed me.

  I never expected that. The gulf between who she was and who I was—it just wasn’t appropriate. I was too startled to reciprocate. Before I regained my balance, she pressed a small, lacquered box into my hand. Inside were two things: one a primitive beacon, a little button like this. Back in those days, you just pressed it and it sent an alert to the other side. Nothing like the fancy talkers you have nowadays. The other thing was a pretty carved ball of jade with something shimmering and metal knotted in the middle.

  I knew what the beacon was, but the second item confused me. What is this? I asked.

  She said, This will break slackcraft wards in any room you leave it in. Hide it in Chong’s room, and you won’t get caught stealing. In return, bring me what I want.

  My mind reverted to practicalities because it couldn’t process anything else. I asked the only thing I could think of: How?

  She said, Use the beacon. I will send for you. And she smiled.

  Chapter Four

  I knew that I had been tipped into madness, thrown into an arena where dragons fought, where a mere mortal like me did not belong. But I was young. I was scared, and excited, and I was also a fool. I wanted to the play the dragons’ game. I wanted to play her game. I was flattered that she’d picked me. That’s the problem with being vain. In the days that followed, I kept replaying the kiss in my mind. The memory of her lips was a ghost haunting me. I couldn’t stop thinking about her.

  A week after the party, Chong called me to his bedchambers. I boldly wore Hekate’s gift around my waist like a bauble. Back then, I had more bravery than sense in my head. Plus, I knew my way around Chong, you know? I figured I knew how to distract him.

  He strung me right along. Chong was a crafty man, after all. Since he was charmless and not
particularly gifted, his only weapons were cunning and ass-kissing. He let me think everything was normal. We got into the rhythm of things, all the touching and giggling. He slipped a hand to my waist, like he was going to undo my sash, but he touched the little box. What is this? he asked, all fake-innocent. I knew at that moment that I’d been found out.

  He tried to grab my hands to restrain me. And that’s where he made his mistake. All our time together, I had been pliant toward him, giving in to his demands or only putting up a token struggle. Like, Oh no, please don’t, you’re so bad, darling. Giggle. He thought he was stronger than me. But he wasn’t. I grew up working the paddies. And even if we learned calligraphy and the daintiest ways of pouring tea in the dancing house, we still had to carry water and scrub the floors. The only difference is that we did it with gloves on. To protect our hands, see?

  I clocked him in the head. He went down so fast, I thought I’d killed him. Thankfully, the bastard was still breathing when I checked.

  I was panicking. I couldn’t explain my way out of this. When Chong woke up, the game would be over. I would be arrested, Hekate would be implicated, that would be the end. My life as a spy destroyed before it even began.

  I thought briefly of killing him. I could make it look like an accident! Maybe I could get away with it! He wouldn’t be around to tell people otherwise!

  But I couldn’t. I wasn’t far enough gone to be a murderer yet. The thought of taking a life filled me with a shudder of fear. Death was such a terrible, irreversible solution. Plus, my gut said it would only get me in more trouble. I dragged Chong onto the bed and decided to continue as though he was just asleep. I had to give my best effort. If I met an ugly fate, at least I would do so knowing I had shaped my own destiny.

  I had to find a place to hide Hekate’s device. Of course I was going to leave it in the room. I had no doubt that Chong would eventually find it and its presence would implicate Hekate. Already, I was thinking it would be good for me if her fate was tied to mine. I started prying at the floorboards, seeing if any of them would come loose.