Smell what? Nisha sent. All I can smell is this muck Zann splashed on my shoe.
Jerrit growled, the sound sending a prickle along Nisha’s spine. Then he crouched and crept forward. Stepping carefully, Nisha followed him to the center of the hedge maze.
The fountain at the heart of the maze was a round, three-tiered tower built of polished gray stone and inlaid with lapis lazuli surrounded by short velvet grass. Water danced over the edge of each pool. They stopped at the fountain’s edge. Jerrit’s growl intensified, and a whimper escaped Nisha’s throat.
Not again.
11
A DARK-HAIRED GIRL lay crumpled facedown in the large bottom pool. Her overrobe was in disarray, and the dark green of her asar had fallen off her shoulder, revealing wet brown skin and thin shoulder blades. Her black hair drifted in the fountain’s trickling flow.
Nisha took a step. “Is she—”
Jerrit crept a little closer and sniffed the air. Yes, he sent, his mind-voice more serious than Nisha had ever heard it. But freshly dead, no more than a few minutes.
Death is following me. The thought came out of nowhere, and Nisha backed away from the fountain. “Jerrit,” she said, “stay here and don’t let anyone touch her. I’ll go get help.”
Nisha darted through the maze, trying not to let her growing sense of panic overwhelm her. She didn’t want to get lost. Once she broke out of the high hedge walls, she looked around for someone, anyone.
Luck was with her. Nisha had come out on the side closest to the House of Jade, and the first person she saw was Sashi. The blind girl was sitting outside the greenhouse with several other Jade girls, all engaged in repotting a collection of soft-leaved licorice plants. Sashi wore an emerald-colored long-sleeved tunic under her asar for warmth, and her face was intent as she carefully transferred her chosen plant from one clay pot to the other.
Nisha tried to look calm as she walked up. No need to frighten them, especially since she didn’t know who the girl in the fountain was yet. She could be one of these girls’ closest friends.
Sashi looked up, wrinkling her forehead. She smiled when Nisha placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Is that you, Nisha? Have you come to help us with these plants?”
“I wish I could,” Nisha said, forcing her voice to stay light. “But I need a favor. Does one of you have a piece of paper I can use?”
All four girls pulled pieces of rice paper out of their pockets. Nisha fought a hysterical giggle. She quickly took the paper and a proffered writing stick and wrote a brief note.
Please come to the fountain at the center of the maze. Something terrible has happened.
Nisha signed her name and folded the paper several times. “I need to get this to Matron. Is there a servant around who can take it?”
“I’ll take it,” one of the Jade girls said. “I’m supposed to go to the Council House and drop off some blank scrolls for Matron.”
“Thank you.” Nisha forced a smile. “Can you make sure she gets this as soon as possible? It’s important.”
After the girl took the message, Nisha looked down to see Sashi’s face turned toward her with a puzzled expression.
“I have to go,” Nisha mumbled, biting her lip to keep herself from telling Sashi what she’d found. She turned and darted back into the maze.
Nisha ran all the way back to the body. She had the horrible feeling that she was going insane, that when she got there, the girl would be gone, vanished back into her imagination.
But the body in the fountain was still there, as dead as it was before. Jerrit sat by it like a guardian statue.
Anyone come by? Nisha sent.
The spotted cat shook his head. No, but I did see a bunch of seeds scattered around. Jerrit jumped down, sniffing through the grass. Maybe she was eating them.
Nisha squatted down. The seeds were almost lost in the grass, but she recognized them immediately as mukhwas, an after-dinner snack made of sugared anise, fennel, coconut, and sesame seeds. The red and green seeds also dusted the edge of the fountain.
Maybe she choked on the mukhwas mix? Jerrit sent. Or slipped and fell?
I don’t know, Nisha sent. She turned away from the body. I wish Matron would come. I should have gone myself. I just didn’t want to leave the body far too long....
When Matron finally came hurrying through the maze, she wasn’t alone. Josei was with her. Matron made a small choking sound when she saw the body. Josei went very still.
“What happened here?” Josei asked quietly. Her direct stare made Nisha feel like a deer confronted by a tiger.
“I—I don’t know,” Nisha stuttered. “We found her like this.”
“We?” Josei looked down at Jerrit, who was sniffing her foot. “Ah, I see.”
Matron took a deep breath and stepped closer to the drifting death in the fountain. “What do you think, Josei?”
The Mistress of Combat knelt and brushed the girl’s clinging wet hair aside. Ripples from the movement wrinkled the surface of the water, and the edges of the girl’s asar bobbed like a dead leaf. The tips of her narrow fingers were puckered and wrinkled, like lizard skin.
Nisha took a deep breath. The air was getting colder, sending goose bumps over her arms. Jerrit jumped from the fountain’s rim and rubbed against her leg.
Are you all right?
No, Nisha sent.
I need to find Esmer, Jerrit sent. But I don’t want to leave you alone.
It’s all right. Nisha bent down and ran her hand along his back. Go on. I’ll call you if I need you, I promise.
Jerrit touched her ankle with his satin nose. I’ll hold you to that. Then he turned and trotted away.
Josei looked up, her light-brown eyes pinning Nisha in place. “I need help lifting her,” she said. “Can you handle it?”
Nisha swallowed, forcing down the sick feeling in her throat. “Yes, I’ll help.”
It was harder than she thought it would be. The body was slippery and limp, and the soaked asar clung to Nisha’s arms as if trying to drag her down into the fountain. The girl’s wet hair covered her face, and water dripped like tears from her fingers. Nisha tried not to think about who she could be holding as they laid the girl facedown on the grass.
“Did she drown? Slip and fall?” Matron asked, with a note of fear that Nisha had never heard before.
Josei shook her head. There was a patch of wet on her tunic, the rust-brown fabric reminding Nisha of dried blood. “No,” she said. “This wasn’t an accident.”
“Not an accident?” Matron asked sharply. “How do you know?”
Josei gave a deep, sad sigh. “Because it looks like she was poisoned.” To punctuate her words, she rolled the body over.
It took Nisha a moment to realize what she was seeing, and when she did—when she saw the staring, sand-colored eyes, the mouth permanently twisted with pain and the hands bent into rigid claws—she felt her throat burn, her stomach thudding into nausea.
Josei gave her a sharp look. “If you’re going to be sick,” she said, standing up, “try not to do it near the corpse.”
“I knew her.” Nisha forced the words out. “I saw her just yesterday.”
Josei’s eyes narrowed. “Yesterday,” she repeated.
Nisha nodded. She felt weak and shaky, and the garden began to spin into a thousand mazes. “I saw her in the crowd, after … after we found Atiy. I spoke to her.” She turned away from the body. “Her name was Jina.”
12
NISHA LEANED AGAINST the brick walls of the House of Combat and took several deep, shuddering breaths. She welcomed the way the cold air burned her lungs, the hint of ice in the air. The ache in her chest meant she was alive.
Why Jina? she thought. Jina never hurt anyone in her life.
Josei came out of the back door of the House of Combat, holding a rough clay cup. “Here, drink this.”
Without thinking, Nisha grabbed the cup and took a big swallow. The hot, bitter drink seared through her,
giving her a short coughing fit.
Josei laughed, a harsh sound like a parrot’s squawk, and took the cup back. “It’s not tea, Nisha. You don’t just gulp it down.”
“What is that stuff?” Nisha asked, wheezing a little.
Josei handed her the cup again. “It’s called kafei. The Kildi swear by it. They say it clears the mind and gives energy.”
Nisha took the drink gingerly and sniffed at it. It definitely wasn’t tea. The liquid was dark and glossy, and there were hints of ashes and earth in its rich scent.
The smell triggered a memory: a campfire, a wagon loaded with bags and boxes. A small, bubbling pot that gave out the same dark, spicy smell, a woman’s sure hands on the handle. And her own little-girl self squatting back on her heels, her fingers drawing aimlessly in the dirt as she stared at the ribbons of white-orange flame…
A hand touched Nisha’s shoulder, startling her.
“Drink up,” Josei said, as if she hadn’t noticed Nisha’s distraction. “I need you alert.”
Nisha sipped at the drink obediently, trying to force her mind back to the present. She rarely had those flashes of memory anymore. She rarely thought about the parents who had left her behind. But now the old feelings of loneliness twisted together with everything else inside her, and she felt like crying.
The kafei helped, the smoky, bitter taste sliding over her tongue. She focused on that, pushing everything else aside, and by the time she finished the cup, she was back on balance.
“Better?” Josei said.
Nisha nodded. “Much better,” she said, taking in her surroundings.
They were standing behind the group of buildings that made up the House of Combat. A few steps away was the small, thickly wooded area that the Combat novices used to practice their woodcraft in. Nisha could hear starlings calling to one another from the treetops. The air was thick with the scent of hay from the nearby stables.
“Why are we here?” Nisha asked. She vaguely remembered Josei leading her away from the maze and the body, remembered stumbling over her own feet and Josei holding her up.
Josei started walking, forcing Nisha to run after her. “Matron is at the House of Jade, breaking the news of Jina’s death to the House Mistress. We’ll meet her there when we’re finished. But right now, I need to know everything you know about Jina and about yesterday.”
“I don’t know much,” Nisha said cautiously. “Jina and I spoke sometimes when I was at the House of Jade. She was training to be an archivist. She loved history more than anything and would talk about it for hours.”
Josei turned down the path that led to the armory, Nisha still trailing behind her. “Did Jina ever seem depressed? Or likely to take her own life?”
“You mean commit suicide?” Nisha asked, startled.
“She was poisoned,” Josei pointed out. “I don’t know how yet. That’s for the healers to determine. But I do know that poison is a popular choice for suicides.”
Nisha’s mind rebelled at Josei’s assumption. “I can’t imagine Jina wanting to die. She was too absorbed. I don’t mean selfish,” she added, remembering the other girl’s smile as she handed Nisha her overrobe. “Just … preoccupied. Even finding Atiy’s body yesterday didn’t seem to sadden her. She was too busy taking notes.”
Josei seemed to consider this for a moment; then she went into the armory. She emerged with two long lati sticks and tossed one to Nisha.
“Come on,” she said, making the formal salute that Nisha recognized as both compliment and challenge. “I think better when I’m moving. Besides, I’ve been watching you practice. I’d like to test your skills.”
Nisha made the ritual bow of acceptance. Her hands shook, and she gripped the bamboo staff firmly to make them stop. “This seems like an odd way to question someone,” she muttered to herself.
Josei pretended not to hear her, but a wisp of a smile, like mist, passed across her face.
They ran through the forms of the fight, the sticks swirling around them like a dance.
“So Jina was there when Atiy’s body was found?” Josei asked, moving into an attack form, both hands on the staff and her right foot forward. “Did she say what she was doing at the House of Pleasure?”
One end of Josei’s polished staff whipped down and Nisha pivoted, twisting her wrist to bring the low end of her stick up in a block. Their sticks had barely touched before Josei was moving into a defense position, with her knees bent and hands spread apart.
“She said she was researching love poems,” Nisha answered. “I think it was part of her Redeeming presentation.” She brought her stick up, and Josei blocked it.
“Good,” the House Mistress said, showing her teeth in a smile. “Now let’s really fight.”
Nisha’s stick made a blur around her as she tried to get around Josei’s defenses. She whirled, aiming for the House Mistress’s knee, but Josei leaped away. She avoided the strike completely, and then swept her staff toward Nisha’s feet. “Did she say anything else?”
Nisha stumbled out of the way, raising her staff to absorb the next blow. “She thought Atiy might have been killed by Shadow-walkers,” she said, then froze in horror.
Josei aimed a blow at her head, and Nisha ducked too late. The metal-tipped staff struck her on the shoulder. Pain shot through her arm.
“Don’t ever let down your guard while in the middle of a fight,” Josei scolded. Then, “Did you believe her? About the Shadow-walkers?”
Nisha shook her head. “I told her they didn’t exist. If there was a House like that on the estate, I would know.” Nisha shifted into an attack stance and flung herself at the Combat Mistress, causing Josei to step back.
“Would you?” Josei asked, blocking Nisha’s strikes as quickly as Nisha could make them.
A thin trickle of sweat ran down Nisha’s temple, and she felt her respect for Josei increase. By keeping Nisha focused on the fight and distracted from Jina’s death, Josei was getting more honest answers than she might have if Nisha had had time to think about what she was saying.
“Do you think Jina was poisoned because she found out something dangerous about the City?” she asked the Combat Mistress.
“I think nothing,” Josei said calmly, pivoting gracefully. Her stick turned so fast that Nisha couldn’t follow its line of movement. “I’m gathering information. Why haven’t you tried to run away again?”
The abrupt shift from questions about Jina to her own story caught Nisha completely off guard. She almost dropped her staff. “What?”
Josei stepped into the gap Nisha had opened up, planted her front foot in the ground behind Nisha’s left foot, and shoved.
Nisha fell, slamming into the dirt, and Josei flicked the tip of her staff to rest against Nisha’s throat.
“I asked you, why haven’t you tried to leave the city? You’re getting restless, there’s no place for you here in the eyes of the new Council Head, and you have no bond to pay off. Yet.”
All the energy drained out of Nisha, as if the hard ground she lay on had sucked it up. Her cheeks felt sticky and hot. “You know about that?”
Josei pulled the staff away and sat cross-legged on the red dirt across from Nisha. Not a hair was out of place on her head. She wasn’t even breathing hard.
“Matron told me,” she said. “She’s worried about you. She hinted to me that it might be better for you to leave now than to wait until after the Council meeting.”
“She didn’t tell me that,” Nisha said. “Is that why you’ve been following me? Does Matron think I’m in danger?”
Josei shrugged. “Matron doesn’t like to do things directly, especially when it’s something that could put her at odds with the Council. She prefers more … subtle ways of working. But I think she might be right this time.”
The thought of running away brought a panic back into Nisha’s throat. There were wolves in the woods, wolves and bandits and slave merchants. Even the Kildi man she’d seen in the trees would be a danger.
Josei gave her a curious look. “You might be surprised. The woods are dangerous for children, but you’re not a child anymore.”
Nisha rubbed her shoulder, still stinging from where Josei had whacked her. Maybe I’m not a child. But that doesn’t mean I can survive out there on my own, either, she thought.
She stood up. “Thank you for the practice, House Mistress. Is there anything else you wanted to ask?”
Josei gave Nisha a piercing look, and Nisha shifted her feet. She wanted to trust this woman, wanted to tell her the fears and worries that swarmed in her chest, but she couldn’t. If Matron couldn’t protect her, then Josei couldn’t either. Nisha was on her own.
“I’ll do it,” Josei said, rising to her feet. “I’ll endorse you. You’re a good staff fighter, you pay attention to what is around you, and you have a nose for when something’s crooked or off. I think you’d make a very good guard.”
Nisha was struck dumb. She followed Josei as the woman returned the lati sticks to the armory. Through the open door of the building, she saw a young man repairing a bronze hand-shield. The youth’s hair was a few shades darker than the shield he was working on, and it fell over his forehead, almost to his eyes. He wasn’t anyone Nisha had seen before. Josei must have a new assistant.
Sometimes outsiders came to train with Josei; they helped her for a few months, learned from her, then moved on. Nisha didn’t usually pay much attention to them. She wasn’t interested in building a friendship with someone who was only going to leave.
As if he sensed her gaze, the young man lifted his head and looked through the doorway. When he saw Nisha staring at him, he winked.
Nisha felt her face grow warm. It was impolite for this stranger to make direct eye contact with a girl he didn’t know. And it was certainly impolite to wink. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him smile, and her face got hotter. She was only too glad to follow Josei down the flat stone path leading to the House of Jade.
City of a Thousand Dolls Page 8