Paper Mage

by Leah R. Cutter

  “Xiao Yen!” Xiao Yen realized her mother had called her name, and it didn’t sound like it was for the first time.

  “Do some magic for us, Xiao Yen,” she said.

  Gan Ou repeated, “Some magic!” A few of the children also joined in.

  Xiao Yen looked in horror at her mother. Do some magic for them? Like a sleight-of-hand trickster at the market who made scarves and coins disappear so children would laugh? Her magic was serious, for defense, not for entertainment. Did her mother take Xiao Yen’s work as lightly as that?

  Fu Be Be glared back at Xiao Yen. Prove your worth, was what she seemed to say.

  Before Xiao Yen could respond, Wang Tie-Tie raised her hand. “My niece is not going to perform for you. She had just come to me to excuse herself from the party. She needs to continue her studies.”

  Xiao Yen felt the strength flowing from Wang Tie-Tie, a warm protective curtain that her aunt tried to cover her niece with. Wang Tie-Tie’s strength wasn’t as certain as it had been, though. Fu Be Be had her own defenses. Wang Tie-Tie was aging, and sooner or later, Fu Be Be was going to wear Wang Tie-Tie down.

  Maybe that wasn’t as horrible as Xiao Yen had once thought it was.

  Xiao Yen hurried through the crowd, leaving the garden, going to her own quiet room. She wrapped the silence around her like a soft shawl that let evening breezes through. Xiao Yen clutched her amulet, and wondered if she was that lucky after all.

  * * *

  Xiao Yen walked back to the main room from the makeup room. She noticed for the first time that paintings of flowers covered all the walls, giving the impression of being in a garden, though there were no windows. Holders for candles stood everywhere, emanating soft light and heat. No wonder the women didn’t wear jackets under their robes. Pillows and low tables filled the floor. Fans, scarves, flutes, mandolins, and more flowers and candles lay scattered across the tables. At least a dozen women sat around the room, talking, gossiping, or playing music.

  Two more-properly dressed women stood to one side, listening to the woman with the braids, the one who had taken Xiao Yen to the picture of Jhr Bei. Three other women stood before them, silent. They wore clothes Xiao Yen saw as immodest, as well as more makeup and jewelry than the first group. It was obvious the first group talked about the second, debating something.

  Xiao Yen went up to the woman with the braids. The women fell silent as she approached.

  “Excuse me,” Xiao Yen said. She cleared her throat. Her voice was still harsh from not being used. “May I speak with you a moment?” she asked the woman.

  The woman bowed to the other women and walked a short way from them with Xiao Yen. Xiao Yen wanted to go back to the makeup room. Their conversation would be heard by everyone else here. No matter. Xiao Yen took a deep breath. She wasn’t sure how to begin.

  “I am called Kai Ju,” said the woman, introducing herself with her informal name. “I’m glad to see you’ve found your tongue.”

  Xiao Yen smiled, and said, “I’m called Xiao Yen.”

  “Yes, we know. What would you like to say to me?”

  “I, ah, I need your help.”

  “You need our help?” asked Kai Ju, “Our help with what?” Her smile held sadness and pity.

  “I know how to free . . . Our Lady.” Xiao Yen remembered Young Lu’s reluctance to say Jhr Bei’s name aloud. Young Lu had known that Vakhtang had subsumed the goddess. Xiao Yen hoped these women knew as well.

  Kai Ju dismissed Xiao Yen with a wave of her hand. “Many of us know how to free Our Lady. But we must have something of hers to use against that coward, Vakhtang. Nothing survived his rampage after he . . . took her. Nothing,” she said, her voice plain and stripped of hope.

  “I have something of Our Lady’s,” Xiao Yen said, pulling the hairpin free. Some of her hair fell from where it had been balanced on her head. She ignored her hair and held the hairpin up for Kai Ju to see.

  Kai Ju looked from the hairpin to Xiao Yen’s face. She laughed and shook her head. “Little one, you carried nothing with you when you arrived here.”

  “It’s Our Lady’s hairpin. I can’t tell you how I got it. But it’s hers.”

  Kai Ju laughed again. A mean tone flavored the edges of it. “All the women who pass through here are desperate. We’re sorry, little one. But this is your fate. We helped you when we could. It is not worth our lives to help you more.”

  “Please,” Xiao Yen said. She didn’t know how to continue. There must be some way to prove the hairpin was what she said it was. She held it above her hand. The flickering candlelight didn’t cast strong shadows, so she couldn’t show them the blueness of the hairpin’s shadow. She glanced around the room. One of the three women—the women being judged, Xiao Yen was certain of it now—had a blue ribbon loosely tied around her long hair.

  Xiao Yen walked over to the woman with the ribbon. “May I borrow this?” she asked.

  The woman handed the ribbon to Xiao Yen, then followed her back over to where Kai Ju waited. The women Kai Ju had been talking with earlier also came over and circled the pair.

  Xiao Yen didn’t know if she could work any magic. She’d been trapped in her silence for so long, not practicing. But she had to try.

  She tied a bowline in the ribbon, the same kind of knot she’d tied the first time she’d tried knot magic. When she tightened it, pulling on the hanging bit of ribbon while holding the rest with her other hand, she was left with a large loop, closed tightly with her knot.

  Xiao Yen closed her eyes, ignoring the women around her, forgetting her past, her future, concentrating on the knot, and it alone. She followed the loops and twists in her mind, shrinking and tightening the knot, willing it to be what she saw.

  The silence that lay inside Xiao Yen clawed at her awareness, calling her, wanting her to come back, to escape. That path looked so easy. To just give in.

  Xiao Yen was not going to give in. She threw her anger now into the knot, the sickening feeling she got in her stomach when she thought about the rest of the days of her life. She didn’t hear anything from the women who surrounded her. The mood of the room changed though. Xiao Yen opened her eyes.

  In the center of her palm, connecting the two parts of blue ribbon, lay a hard black bead. The color disturbed Xiao Yen. Was she really that angry? She couldn’t worry about it now.

  Kai Ju picked up the ribbon and tugged at the bead. “Very nice,” she said. “You’ve proven you have some magic. That doesn’t prove anything else.” Kai Ju stared at Xiao Yen, as if willing her to back down.

  One of the women who had been in the group with Kai Ju took the bead from Kai Ju. She studied it, then said, “Kai Ju, you should . . .” She fell silent when Kai Ju held up her hand.

  “The next step,” Xiao Yen said, as if this was what she’d planned all along, “is to break it.”

  “That’s not possible,” said the woman holding the knot.

  Xiao Yen smiled and motioned for the woman to continue. It was much better if the women learned about magic from one of their own.

  “You can only change the form of something, not the essential essence,” said the woman. “Not unless you drain your soul.”

  “Or you use something that has stronger magic,” Xiao Yen countered.

  The woman nodded. She looked again at Kai Ju, who stood with her arms crossed over her chest, standing in judgment over Xiao Yen.

  “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 te
st? 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, and . . .

  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 will ring 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?