City of a Thousand Dolls
Page 1
Dedication
To Nicolas and Rebekah Casey, and to all the others who speak for the children. This book is for you.
DRAMATIS
PERSONAE
in the
CITY OF A THOUSAND DOLLS
NISHA ARVI
The City Council
MADRI, The Matron of the Houses AKASH TAR’VEY, the new Head of the City Council On the grounds
ESMER, wild spotted cat, leader of the cat tribe JERRIT, wild spotted cat, Nisha’s best friend RASHI, wild spotted cat BRILL, wild spotted cat VALERIANA, wild spotted cat At the House of Combat
JOSEI, House Mistress TAC, Josei’s assistant At the House of Flowers
INDRANI, House Mistress TANAYA, novice, betrothed to the High Prince MAYRL, tutor
At the House of Beauty
RAJNI, House Mistress LASHAR, novice LILAMAYI, novice At the House of Jade
JINA, novice
SASHI, novice DANNA, novice ZANN, bond slave, former novice at the House of Music At the House of Music
VINIAN, House Mistress BINDI, novice At the House of Pleasure
CAMINI, House Mistress ATIY, novice
At the House of Discipline
KALIA, Mistress of Order CHANDRA, Kalia’s assistant At the House of Shadows
THE SHADOW MISTRESS
MAYANTI, novice THE BHINIAN EMPIRE
From the Capital
THE EMPEROR
HIGH PRINCE SUDEV, heir DEVAN TAR’VEY, courier UDITI, healer The Kildi Camp
STEFAN, KYS OF THE ARVI CLAN
AISHE, Stefan’s mother-in-law SONJA, Stefan’s daughter MARET, Stefan’s son EMIL ARVI, Nisha’s father (deceased) SHAR, Nisha’s mother (deceased) ISITA, camp healer THE CASTES
Flower, for the nobility
Jade, for the learned
Bamboo, for the merchants
Hearth, for the farmers
Wind, for the wanderers
It was the storyteller Elina who spoke for the children.
She sat before the Emperor, the Second Lotus Emperor, jangled the bells of her bow, and sang of girls unwanted, of babies left to die,
of a future where women were scarcer than gold.
And the Emperor listened and heard the words of the singer
and her song of sadness.
The Emperor listened,
and he built a city.
All who wanted could bring their daughters to this place, where they would be taught, cared for,
and kept safe.
And the people honored the Emperor for his wisdom.
From The Song of Stone and Blood, a story-song of Elina the Bow-singer
Contents
Dedication
Dramatis Personae
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Credits
Copyright
Back Ad
About the Publisher
1
“DON’T MOVE, NISHA.” The words were playful, but the sharp slash of light along the blade of the throwing dagger was not.
Nisha Arvi forced herself to go still. Splinters dug into her shoulder from the wooden target wall behind her, but she didn’t twitch.
A few paces away, her friend Tanaya twirled her dagger with careless grace. A smug and confident smile curled the edges of her mouth. “Don’t look so frightened, Nisha. Trust me.”
“You always say that,” Nisha muttered, trying not to move the muscles of her face. Sweat from staff practice dampened her legs, and her loose cotton trousers clung to her skin like cold hands.
“And I’m always right.” Like Nisha, Tanaya practiced her fighting skills in the rust-brown tunic and trousers of the House of Combat. But Tanaya’s tunic was of a finer weave than Nisha’s, gold embroidery circling the neckline and sleeves. She polished her dagger on the edge of her tunic, and Nisha closed her eyes.
Swish—thunk.
Nisha cracked her left eye open. The dagger hilt quivered a finger’s length from her cheek. Beyond the wooden handle, she could make out the copper-trimmed brick of the House of Combat and the smooth roof of gray sky.
Nisha sagged against the target wall. “You’re getting better,” she said weakly.
Tanaya gave a mocking imitation of an Imperial Court bow. “Why, thank you. You should see me performing the Dance of Fans and Daggers.”
Nisha heard the shouts of instructors and the clangs of curved swords from inside a nearby building. Novices—and the outsiders the House Mistress brought into the City to help train them—practiced archery in the broad field behind them, the snap of their strings echoing across the flat ground. The sounds were straightforward, simple, comforting.
Nisha stepped away from the wall and pulled the dagger out of the wood. It was unexpectedly heavy, and she offered it hilt-first to Tanaya.
“I thought you were going to faint for a moment,” Tanaya said. She sheathed the dagger in the hidden belt under her tunic. Tanaya was two years older than Nisha and wore every inch of her eighteen years with authority. Her light hair shone like polished beech wood, and her smooth hands danced like butterflies. Nisha had the charcoal hair and amber skin so common in the Bhinian Empire, and her hands were rough and callused.
“You wouldn’t laugh if you ever dared to spar with me,” Nisha said, picking up her practice staff and lunging at Tanaya.
The older girl jumped back. “Careful! You know I’m not allowed to do anything that could cause bruising.” Tanaya’s voice was playful, but the smile slid from her eyes.
She dusted off her hands and started walking down the gray stone path that led to the House of Flowers, Nisha behind her.
“Besides, think how it would look. The future wife of the High Prince attacked by an assistant.” The good humor returned to Tanaya’s face, and she giggled. “Do you remember the first time you came to my House to deliver a message? You were so shy, all big, scared eyes and dark, dark hair hiding your face.”
Nisha grimaced. She’d been so nervous, but also proud to deliver messages to the grand House of Flowers. Her satisfaction had lasted only as long as it took for a group of Flower girls to decide she was an easy target in her plain gray asar and untidy braid. It was her first experience of the dangers that lurked in the corners of the City of a Thousand Dolls. But it hadn’t been her last.
The back of her neck prickled. Nisha’s steps slowed as the prickle spread from her neck to her shoulders. It was the feeling that had become all too familiar in the past few days, the feeling that someone was watching her. She stopped.
“What is it?” Tanaya asked.
“Hold on,” Nisha said, holding up a hand. She turned slowly, scanning the buildings around her. Then she saw the figure standing in the shadows of the armory.
It was Josei, the Mistress of the House of Combat, h
er hard stare fixed on Nisha.
Nisha whirled around and started walking.
Tanaya quickened her pace to keep up. “Nisha, what’s wrong?” she hissed.
“Look over by the armory,” Nisha said. “The House Mistress is watching me again.”
Tanaya looked around, and her eyes widened. “So she is. I wonder why she seems to be spying on you? Is she trying to get you into trouble?”
“I don’t know why she’d want to,” Nisha said. Without looking around, she could imagine the House Mistress perfectly, her rust-brown asar wrapped so it came only to her knees, the short sword at her side. Josei was lithe and muscular and moved like a wolf. Just being in her presence made Nisha feel clumsy and anxious.
Tanaya laughed. “She frightens you.”
“If you had any sense, she’d scare you, too.” But there was a very good reason why Tanaya wasn’t scared of Josei, or anyone. Tanaya was important.
Nisha’s fingers crept to the base of her neck. There was a mark that looked like a stylized tiger just under her collarbone, and she rubbed it absently.
“I know what will make you feel better.” Tanaya took her arm, and Nisha caught the delicate scent of the night-queen flower, Tanaya’s favorite scent. “I’ll let you borrow you one of my asars for tonight.”
Nisha felt her cheeks flush. “But your House wears Imperial Court asars. If Matron finds out, she’ll be furious.”
“So don’t tell her. Come on. You can wear the overrobe to hide it until you’re outside the walls. Don’t you want to wear something pretty for Devan for a change?”
Nisha looked down at her dirt-streaked tunic and felt herself waver.
“I suppose—”
“You can come and change into it now,” Tanaya said. “I have some time before my next lesson, and I can show you how to wrap it just right. Then you just have to stay out of sight until it’s time to meet Devan.” Tanaya’s voice was rich with confidence, the same confidence that she had shown on the day Nisha first met her.
The Flower girls had surrounded Nisha like a pack of wolves, teasing her for the plainness of her clothes and the untidiness of her hair. She remembered biting the inside of her cheek, trying desperately not to cry. And then … Tanaya, swooping down like a guardian spirit. Like the other girls in the House of Flowers, Tanaya was training to join the nobility. She wore a vivid yellow Court asar patterned with butterflies, and her mere presence seemed to bring light and heat to the courtyard as if there were a flame burning inside her.
Even then—before she’d ever been spoken for—Tanaya could command a crowd.
Don’t you girls have something better to do than stand here chattering like common starlings? she’d asked, cold disdain in her deep-brown eyes. Tanaya had taken Nisha’s hand and pulled the astonished little girl away.
I’m Tanaya, she’d said with a smile that flew straight into Nisha’s lonely, uncertain heart. But you can call me Tani.
Nisha had adored her from that moment on. Even now, ten years later, she found it hard to refuse her friend anything. Tanaya made people want to please her. She would charm and tease until she got what she wanted, and she never, ever gave up.
“All right,” Nisha said. “But not a fine one. I’m going outside the walls, and I don’t want the dirt to ruin it.”
Tanaya waved a hand. “As if I would care about that,” she said. “And don’t worry, I have the perfect one.” Her smile widened. “Trust me.”
The asar Tanaya lent Nisha was beautiful, a deep lotus pink with white jasmine flowers, skimming her hips and falling in a graceful curtain around her feet. But it was also hard to walk in. Nisha tripped over her hem for the third time, stumbled, and almost dropped her bag of scrolls. She cursed under her breath, then looked around to make sure no one had seen her.
Despite its grand name, there wasn’t much that was citylike about the City of a Thousand Dolls. In fact, it wasn’t really a city at all, but a large private estate ringed by a high stone wall. The six Houses—Flowers, Beauty, Pleasure, Combat, Jade, and Music—each had their own grounds arranged loosely around a central point. A variety of gardens filled the grounds between them. In the city’s center there was a large round hedge maze with six different points of entry and a hidden fountain at its heart.
A wide main road ran from the double gates that allowed entrance to the estate up to the maze, with the House of Flowers on one side and the Council House—the administrative center of the City—on the other. The remaining Houses were connected by paths of smooth, flat stones lined with benches and shaded by huge banyan trees.
And always, the City was filled with girls. While each girl was formally trained at one House, she often went to others for lessons. Between lessons, they gossiped in the gardens, played chase games in the hedge maze, and drank tea out on the wide stretches of lawn. There were tall girls, thin and graceful as herons, curvy ones whose hips swished like a dance when they walked, playful ten-and eleven-year-olds, wide-eyed children just out of toddling. The girls had skin of copper, amber, and gold, their eyes every rich shade of brown, and their laughter filled the City.
But the City was at its quietest at mealtimes. The river of voices was muted, hidden behind House walls. And there was no one to see Nisha as she slipped down the road that led out to the main gate.
Almost no one.
What in the name of the Long-Tailed Cat are you wearing? A spotted wildcat came padding up, his golden eyes visible through the thick grass that edged the side of the road. His voice was like tanned leather in Nisha’s mind, strong and soft at the same time.
Nisha smiled at him. “Tanaya let me borrow it,” she said, opening her overrobe and twirling in place. “What do you think, Jerrit?”
I think it could get you in serious trouble. Jerrit was thin and sleek, with longer legs than the cats Nisha knew were domesticated in the capital city. His golden-brown fur was streaked and spotted with black.
If you get caught in that—
I’m not going to get caught, Nisha said silently. She liked talking out loud to the cats as if they were people, but some conversations were better kept private. Everyone is getting ready for lunch. And I’m not sneaking out, either. Devan’s a courier. He delivers letters for Matron and picks up her outgoing mail. I’m supposed to bring it to him.
That’s not the only thing he picks up.
Don’t be such a sourpuss. Nisha started walking again. If I want to ask him to speak for me, I should look as sophisticated as I can.
Jerrit kept pace with her at a lope. I don’t understand what you see in Devan. I don’t trust him.
Nisha rolled her eyes. It was an old argument between them. Devan’s not like most of the nobles we know.
All nobles are the same.
How would you know? Nisha asked. You’ve never been out of the City, not since you were a kitten. And I’ve been here just as long. Besides, we’ve only met the nobles on the Council. I’m sure all nobles aren’t that…
Arrogant? Scary?
I was going to say unfriendly.
Sure you were. Jerrit growled and trotted along in silence for a moment. Do you love him?
Nisha let out her breath. I don’t know, she admitted. Sometimes I think so. But then I wonder … how would I know if I did? Maybe I just like the way he kisses.
Well, you’d better make your mind up. The Redeeming is in nine days. And if you’re discovered before then—
I know.
Devan tar’Vey was a nobleman’s son and a member of the high-ranking Flower caste. Nisha was … well, Nisha wasn’t sure what she was, besides an errand girl. She was certainly no noble. And the story-songs were full of cautionary tales about what happened when someone from a higher caste and someone from a lower caste fell in love. If they were lucky, separation was the only punishment. But if the disgrace was severe enough for a family to become very angry, the lover from the higher caste could be banished to a remote part of the Bhinian Empire. The lower-caste lover in the story w
as usually killed.
The only exception to the rule was the City of a Thousand Dolls. If Devan spoke for her at the Redeeming, their relationship could be recognized as legitimate. But if they were caught before then, it was Nisha who would bear the brunt of the punishment.
Those are just stories, Nisha told herself. But she couldn’t quite listen. In the Empire, power was everything—and if you had enough of it, you could get away with anything. Even murder.
Nisha, someone’s coming, Jerrit sent. He sniffed the cooling air, fur raised. Better hide.
Jerking herself from her daydream, Nisha wrapped the folds of her overrobe around her and slipped into the abandoned guardhouse next to the gate. Guards had been stationed here a long time ago, to protect the walls and the girls inside, but the old Council Head had decided they were expensive and unnecessary. No girls had tried to run away for over a decade. And with the Emperor’s soldiers keeping order on the roads, it seemed foolish for the City to have an armed force of its own.
Nisha had heard rumors that the new Council Head was reconsidering that decision. She hoped it wasn’t true. Guards would make it almost impossible for her and Devan to see each other.
Peering over the windowsill, Nisha saw a servant in pale brown, an empty platter in her hands, hurrying toward the House of Flowers. She was probably borrowing it from the Council House. Even with all the Council Members to feed right now, the Council House kitchens could spare it.
As if alerted by Nisha’s eyes on her, the girl glanced toward the guardhouse. Nisha ducked down, her heart pounding.
That brown tunic meant that the servant was with the House of Flowers. And like their mistresses, the staff at the House of Flowers loved to gossip. If word got around that Nisha was acting suspicious near the gates, Matron would start asking questions.
Nisha didn’t breathe again until Jerrit told her the servant was gone.
That was too close, the cat sent. Go. I’ll keep watch here.
Nisha impulsively bent down and kissed the top of her friend’s slender head. Thank you.
You’re welcome, Jerrit sent, the hint of a purr under his grumpy tone. Just go, all right? And don’t get caught.