by Cutter, Leah
“Please,” said Xiao Yen, handing the woman the hairpin.
The woman examined the hairpin for a moment then closed her fist around the head of it. She raised her arm above her head and struck the bead in her palm with force. A loud crack filled the air, like a clay pot breaking. The momentum of the blow carried the ribbon from the woman's hand. When it reached the floor, instead of being a single piece of ribbon, there lay three pieces, with jagged ends where it used to be connected.
“Now will you test it?” the woman asked Kai Ju, handing her the hairpin.
Test? There had to be another test? Xiao Yen trembled. What more would she be asked to do? She couldn't do any more magic. She felt as exhausted as after her first days of class. She wasn't certain that she could escape her silence another time.
“I didn't want to hope—” started Kai Ju. “Come with me,” she told Xiao Yen, turning abruptly.
Xiao Yen followed Kai Ju to the closet containing the small picture of Jhr Bei. The other women crowded behind them.
Kai Ju stood in front of the picture for some moments, head down in prayer. Without turning around, she said, “If you have tricked us, little one. . .” She let the threat hang in the air.
Xiao Yen shivered. The women themselves, of course, wouldn't do anything to her. But they might encourage the soldiers to take her again.
Xiao Yen was so involved in her own revulsion that it took the sound of the other women crying out to bring her back. Kai Ju had touched the picture of Jhr Bei with the hairpin. Light brighter than sunlight filled the small space, spilling out and blessing the women behind her. Xiao Yen was close enough to see that the picture had changed, growing as white as a snowy crane, and fully fleshed. The picture retreated to its normal colors and proportions as Kai Ju removed the hairpin.
Kai Ju turned around, tears streaming down her face. “We have hoped, for so long.” She sank to her knees, her head bowed, and handed the hairpin to Xiao Yen with trembling arms.
Embarrassment filled Xiao Yen. This older woman shouldn't be paying respect to Xiao Yen like this. Xiao Yen took the hairpin, then took one of Kai Ju's arms and pulled on it, making Kai Ju stand.
The look of adoration from Kai Ju made Xiao Yen anxious. She laughed a little and offered the hairpin back to Kai Ju. A puzzled look filled the woman's face. Xiao Yen turned around and said, “I can't put the hairpin back properly by myself.”
Xiao Yen felt her hair lifted off the back of her neck, gently twisted, balanced, then captured by the hairpin. “Thank you,” Xiao Yen said, turning back to the older woman.
Kai Ju stared at Xiao Yen. “I was a priestess at the temple of Our Lady.” Her voice was low, husky. “Vakhtang has kept me alive, a plaything, to watch the other women suffer, for more years than you could know. It's just so hard to have hope.” She shook her head. “You said you needed our help. What can we do?” Her voice now sounded normal.
“I'd like information about my family, my aunt. And also about a golden-haired foreigner who was brought in at the same time I was. And if any other foreigners have been brought in as well.”
Kai Ju walked back to the main room, the other women following her. She called two of the women sitting in the corner to her and talked to them quietly for a moment. The two hurried from the room. “What else?” she asked Xiao Yen.
“I must scratch Vakhtang with the hairpin, just break his skin.” At least that's what Bei Xi had told her. “This may kill him,” Xiao Yen said. She took a deep breath. When she'd been at school, thinking about her future, she'd imagined she'd battle her opponents in the same way she fought her classmates—creature against creature, not mage against mage.
Xiao Yen forced herself to continue. “It may not. It may only stop him, or put him to sleep, or something.” It would only be a little scratch. And though Xiao Yen wanted vengeance for what Vakhtang had let his men do to her, she was hesitant to kill him. It wasn't right. “After—afterwards—if I'm still alive, is there some way to signal you?” Xiao Yen felt she had to concentrate on getting out of the room alive. It was her hope, the only thing that gave her the strength to go forward. She didn't want to count on Bei Xi rescuing her. The other women had to help.
“The third bell cord on the back wall rings a bell in the kitchens,” Kai Ju said. “Vakhtang uses it when he wants tea served in his room. We'll come and serve the tea. The soldiers won't count how many women go into the room. Or how many come out.”
Xiao Yen said, “Good.” If she managed to survive Vakhtang, if he didn't suck the soul out of her body, she had a way out. She needed to think about that, and not the coming battle.
“How do you plan to scratch Vakhtang?” Kai Ju asked.
This was the part of the plan that Xiao Yen felt most uncomfortable with. “I need to, or rather, he needs to be distracted.” That was all she could say. She didn't want to think about what it was going to take to distract Vakhtang. She didn't want to give up her maidenhood to him. No one would marry her then—not that anyone would marry her now.
One of the improperly dressed women came up and put her arm over Xiao Yen's shoulder. Xiao Yen started. She didn't like to be touched, not since the soldiers had touched her.
“Men love swords,” the woman said. “The longer the better.” Some of the other women laughed.
Xiao Yen squirmed, uncomfortable. Why was this woman stating the obvious?
“You could ask him to teach you about men's swords, about fighting. It's worked for me before.”
Xiao Yen didn't want to hear this. She didn't want to hear techniques for seducing men. She made herself listen though, because it might save her life.
“You could challenge him to a duel. You have two hairpins. You use one, and he gets the other. Just remember to laugh and smile, and not let the fight get too serious.”
Xiao Yen caught her breath. She pulled away from the other woman and bowed deeply. “Thank you,” she said. It might work. Xiao Yen knew nothing about flirting, while this woman obviously knew a lot.
The woman nodded her head in acknowledgment and walked away. Xiao Yen wondered if the woman had helped because she'd gained status that way. Or maybe it was to make up for something. She had been one of the three that Kai Ju and the others had been judging. Not all the women here were former temple attendants for Jhr Bei. Some were prostitutes.
Kai Ju turned to Xiao Yen. “I have one piece of advice for you too, little one. As cruel as Vakhtang is, as powerful as he may seem, he is still scared. Now come. We must dress you for this evening.”
Xiao Yen turned to see two women carrying a mock wedding dress. Xiao Yen bit down on her lips to prevent any tears. She was sure it was the closest thing to bridal clothes she'd ever wear. The red had a tinge of orange to it, like the color of maple leaves in the fall, not the happy red of a summer poppy. It didn't have a collar. Xiao Yen hadn't realized how long or white her neck was until she saw herself in a mirror. Though the dress hung over her hands and dropped over her feet, properly covering her, it was cleverly made and came undone with just three ties and two little hooks.
Another woman approached her with a veil. Before it covered Xiao Yen, the two women that Kai Ju had sent out came rushing back. They told her that Young Lu had escaped to her son-in-law's house, and he'd paid enough in bribes to keep her safe. Udo was held in another part of the compound, with other prisoners. They didn't know how badly the guards had tortured him. No other foreigners had been brought in, so Xiao Yen didn't know Ehran's fate.
Just as she didn't know her own. The women draped the veil over her head, her eyes. The details of the world disappeared. All Xiao Yen saw were vague shapes. She swallowed hard. Not being able to see clearly meant she had to rely on those around her. This wasn't a problem here, with the women, but what would happen when she was alone with Vakhtang? Xiao Yen took a deep breath and tried to calm her pounding heart, certain that everyone could hear it.
Xiao Yen's entourage gathered around her. Seven women—more than one hand's worth—
hopefully enough to confuse the guards. Xiao Yen tried to keep her hands still under her long sleeves, but she found herself clenching and unclenching her fists. She willed herself to be calm, her fingers to be still. Inside, she still trembled.
Xiao Yen heard guards call out a challenge, and the party came to a halt. She ignored the dark laughter that came from the men, laughter that raised chicken flesh across her shoulders and down her spine. One of the guards reached out and started lifting her veil. Xiao Yen closed her eyes. She would not see them, would not admit them into her consciousness. Her river of silence stood ready to accept her, to drown her.
The women in the party shrieked in false fright and batted at the guard. A deep rumbling voice called out, echoing in the close corridor. Abruptly, silence filled the hall. Xiao Yen opened her eyes, but all she saw were outlines of figures.
The women led Xiao Yen to the center of a room. Out of the bottom of her veil she could see a low table and pillows heaped on the ground. The room seemed small, and had an odd, peaked ceiling. Vakhtang was just a blur of silver. He greeted the women and talked with them for a while. He laughed, a warmhearted sound, and the women responded in kind. When he thanked them, he used formal terms, then bade them good night.
Xiao Yen stayed where she was, looking forward, while Vakhtang walked the women toward the door. She couldn't hear him return. The floor was padded, and he wore soft shoes, and he walked lightly. He circled Xiao Yen, like a cat circling its prey.
“Remove your veil,” he ordered.
Xiao Yen lifted the veil above her head with two steady hands. Vakhtang took it from her, raising the elaborate headpiece straight up. He wore a long silver jacket over forest green pants, in a style looser than what Master Wei wore, more like a lord's holiday clothes. Xiao Yen was relieved that he wasn't wearing false wedding clothes like she was.
She took a closer look at his jacket. It had rivers of complicated knots flowing over it, sewn with white thread. Xiao Yen wanted to touch the knots, to study them, to see how they were made and trace their rolling patterns. She tried to follow them with her eyes, but they kept shifting—magic, she realized. Each knot was linked to the next with tiny chains, covering the silk with protection. It was her own knot magic, being used against her.
“I'm glad you like my outfit,” Vakhtang said in amusement.
Xiao Yen gasped and blushed. She sank to her knees, lowered her forehead to the ground and said, “This unworthy person begs your forgiveness for not greeting you properly.” Her cheeks burned with embarrassment and her hope landed in the pit of her stomach. How could she fight against someone protected by such magic?
“I forgive you,” Vakhtang replied in a silky voice.
Xiao Yen felt her hope sink even lower. Power emanated from this man, more power than from Master Wei when he did his exercises.
Hard fingers grabbed Xiao Yen's chin and forced her to look up. Dark brown eyes sucked at her soul, greedy to possess her. Vakhtang's face was as tan as a farmer's, but he didn't have the laugh lines a farmer would.
Xiao Yen made herself smile and let the pressure from his hand raise her to her feet. He towered over her. She only reached his mid-chest. His arms were like round barrels underneath his jacket, straining the silk. She looked down and away from him.
Blankets, fur rugs and pillows covered the entire floor, like in those forbidden stories Gan Ou had read to her. Long strips of cloth, muted reds and browns, hung from a hook in the ceiling and along the walls, hiding the straight lines of the room. They made the room seem smaller, like there was no place to hide.
Vakhtang followed Xiao Yen's wandering gaze. He said, “I like to remember the tents I was born in when I'm in town.”
He indicated with his hand that she should take a seat on the pillows next to the table. His tone of voice indicated that she shouldn't ask more about his birthplace.
Xiao Yen sat down, taking care to appear graceful, arranging her long skirts over her legs so the fabric draped nicely, as Bei Xi had taught her at a campsite many lifetimes ago.
Vakhtang took a seat on the other side of the table. He sat so his back wasn't facing the door. Though he had the bubble around his heart and was supposed to be invulnerable, he was still scared, just as Kai Ju had said. Maybe Xiao Yen could hope.
Xiao Yen smiled, and to hide it, looked down at the table. The dark top was carved and inlaid with two lighter-colored woods, making a pattern of fish jumping through waves. It was an older piece, the kind traditionally inherited from one generation to the next in a family. Xiao Yen wondered from whom Vakhtang had stolen it. A tea service sat on the table. The pot was made of plain red baked mud, in the shape of a rooster, appropriate for a bachelor. The cups were made out of similar material, the handles in the shape of leaves and vines.
“Were you born near this town?” Xiao Yen asked as she poured two cups of tea.
“Yes, north and east of here,” Vakhtang replied, his tone low and guarded.
“Have you been back to see your family?” Xiao Yen asked as she handed him a cup. She kept her head averted so he wouldn't notice her secrets.
The teacup grew heavy in her hand. The silence in the room coalesced. Xiao Yen turned her head so she could look at Vakhtang out of the corner of her eye. When her gaze touched him, he broke into laughter.
“You imp!” he said, pounding the cushions next to him with one hand while taking the proffered cup with the other. “You knew I didn't want to talk about seeing my village, but also that I needed to talk about it. Are all paper mages trained as well as you?”
Xiao Yen picked up her own teacup and took a calm sip, proud to see that her hands weren't shaking. She didn't meet his eye, but did turn to face him. She smiled demurely, hoping that was answer enough.
“Why do you ask about my family?” Vakhtang said, swirling the tea in his cup and peering at her.
“I—” Xiao Yen paused, unsure if she should tell the truth, but she forced herself to plunge on “—need to please you.”
She didn't add what she was truly thinking, “Or I am quickly dead.”
Instead, Xiao Yen said, “To do that, I must learn about you. Wang Tie-Tie always said a man without a past was like a tree without its roots, easily blown over in any storm. You—” Xiao Yen paused again “—aren't about to be blown down. So I asked about where you were born, your family.”
Vakhtang looked at her thoughtfully. “Is that really why? Or haven't we tempered your will enough? Maybe I should call the guards and let you play together again.”
Xiao Yen hastily placed her cup on the table and prostrated herself on the ground. She forced her hands to show the trembling of her heart. “My only thought was to please you, my lord. That is all.”
Vakhtang snorted. The silence in the room grew.
Xiao Yen continued to make her hands shake. She knew Vakhtang's threat was an idle one. He wouldn't call the guards again. Kai Ju had been right, though she didn't know the full extent of it. Vakhtang wasn't just scared; his fears drove him. Because he was fearful, he needed to be feared.
It was the key to his character.
Finally Vakhtang said, “Rise, little mage. If you need more tempering, I can do it myself.”
Xiao Yen sat up slowly. She tried to mix the emotions on her face, to remain calm and yet show some fear. She took care to not show any of the hope she felt. Vakhtang seemed satisfied.
Xiao Yen didn't know what to say now, whether to ask again about his family or to talk about something else. She took a sip of tea, letting her hands fall back into their natural, calm state. The silence continued. Finally it occurred to her what he wanted.
“What would you like to talk about, my lord?” she asked, giving him all the control he sought.
“My family.” Vakhtang paused, then looked straight at Xiao Yen, his gaze drilling into her. “My family gave me this future. My father was chieftain of our tribe. My uncles taught me the art of war. My eldest aunt taught me of magic, of knots and fire and how to look
through the skin of a man to see the strength of his soul.”
Vakhtang paused again. “You have a delicious strength,” he said. “There is so much more to you than meets the eye.”
Xiao Yen laughed, the sound like a frightened bird breaking into the room. “I am a weak willow in your overpowering wind,” she said. She needed to deflect the point of this conversation. “Tell me of your uncles.”
Vakhtang smiled as he sipped his tea. “I wanted more than the tiny patch of ground we called ours. My uncles counseled tolerance. The hypocrites. So I took the village closest to us, killed the men and boys, made slaves of the women, and burned everything to the ground.” He considered his teacup for a moment.
“My uncles opposed me. Said what I'd done was evil. But it wasn't, don't you agree? I'd done what they'd taught me. What's more, I'd done what they'd wanted to do, in their secret hearts, the ones they showed no one. I found that out when I took their souls.” He sighed and shook his head, his eyes faraway.
Xiao Yen said the first thing that came to her mind. “Was it hard to take your uncles?”
Vakhtang laughed, a short bark that was almost a cry. “Yes. It was. I had become—” he paused “—invulnerable, in my person. I needed their strength to help me stay that way. They were weak, too weak. It took too much of my energy to suck them dry. They had nothing left to give me at the end. They taught me to only use people with enough fire.” He looked again at Xiao Yen, considering her.
Xiao Yen couldn't help her curiosity. “What is it like? To be invulnerable?”
Vakhtang smiled at her, like a master proud of his student. “Nothing can kill me, but I'm still not safe.”
Xiao Yen nodded to herself. She'd been right. Fear drove Vakhtang, fear of death, fear of life, fear of everything unknown.
Vakhtang continued. “What would happen if someone captured me, made me a prisoner? I'd be trapped forever in some dungeon. Or worse, if I fell under a torturer's care?” Vakhtang's tone was bantering as he said these things.
Xiao Yen heard the undercurrent of terror running through his words.