by Joel Ross
A thrill rose in Ji’s chest. Maybe Mr. Ioso wasn’t so tough without magic. Maybe serving Brace wouldn’t be so bad.
“Get him,” he whispered. “C’mon, get him!”
With a slash and a thrust, Brace drove Mr. Ioso into the branches of the tree—until Mr. Ioso smacked a paper lantern through the air at Brace’s face. Brace knocked the lantern away . . . but not quickly enough. Mr. Ioso slipped inside his guard and touched a dagger to his throat.
With a wry grin, Brace surrendered. He and Mr. Ioso bowed to each other, and then Brace gestured to Mr. Ioso’s daggers, like he wanted to try again. More like a young warrior than a coltish kid.
That night, Mr. Ioso brought another load of boots.
“Where is everyone?” Ji asked. “Where’s Chibo?”
“None of you can be trusted with freedom.”
“How would you know? We’ve never had any.”
“When I was your age,” Mr. Ioso told him, “I worked as a ditchdigger and dreamed of becoming an undergardener. Look at me now.”
Ji frowned. Mr. Ioso had been a ditchdigger? And now he was a magic-wielding . . . whatever, working for the queen’s favorite proctor?
“You pledged yourself to Proctor?” he asked. “That’s how you got ahead?”
“I made myself useful. But first I decided not to serve at the feast of life. I chose to eat. I’ve seen the look in your eyes. You want the same. You want freedom.”
Ji shrugged. “Maybe.”
“The price of freedom is high, boy. The only way to break your bonds is to lock them to someone else.”
“That’s not freedom,” Ji told him. “That’s just holding on to the other end of the chain.”
“You little—” Mr. Ioso snarled, raising his arm to backhand Ji.
Then he stopped, his teeth clenched and his eyes horrible. A white shimmer flickered across his knuckles. For three heartbeats, he didn’t move . . . and Ji couldn’t, paralyzed by fear like a bunny by a bobcat.
Finally, the shimmer faded. Then Mr. Ioso lowered his arm and left.
Ji fell onto his bed and trembled like a bunny. Except he wasn’t one. Maybe he wasn’t a bobcat either, but that didn’t mean he was helpless. And Mr. Ioso was right about one thing: he wanted freedom. Not just for himself, but for Roz, Sally, and Chibo.
He crouched at the loose floorboard and got to work.
A tapping woke Ji in the middle of the night. He blinked at the ceiling. Tap-tippity-tap. Sounded like branches against the roof.
Tap! Tap-tap-tap!
“Okay,” he said. “That’s not branches.”
He crawled across the floor and peered out the window. The whole world was inky black. Not a glimmering of light. Nothing but—
The blackness shifted, and Ji yelped. That wasn’t blackness, it was a dingy purple cloak pressed against the window.
Then a hooded face appeared upside down and a gravelly voice called, “Sneakyji!”
“Nin!” Ji said. “What’re you doing out there?”
“Hanging from toproof by my footclaws,” Nin said. “Of course.”
“I mean, why?”
“Need my favor,” Nin said. “And I didn’t peek you for days.”
“I’m locked in here.”
“You picked the wrong lock?” Nin asked, cocking his upside-down head.
“No, I didn’t pick the—” Ji took a breath. “I need another favor.”
“Did you hear when the rite’s happening?”
“Pretty soon, I think. I’m serving at it.”
“That’s badnews!” A stiff wind flapped Nin’s hood. “Troublebig badnews!”
“Why?” Ji yelled.
“What?” Nin yelled.
“Forget it.” Ji put his face to the glass. “Nin, I need you to find my friends!”
“Find what?”
“Look around and . . . peeksee my friends? Tell me where they are, and help us get out of here and—”
The wind blew Nin’s hood away from his head, revealing a red face, glossy as polished leather. Not a mask. Yellow hair. Not a mask. Yellow eyes. Not a mask. And fangs.
“Not a mask!” Ji jerked away, his heart pounding. “You’re an ogre!”
“I am not, you headbutton!”
“I can see your face.”
“No, you can’t.”
“Nin, I’m right here!”
“No, you aren’t.”
Ji took a slow breath. “What’s an ogre doing in the city?”
“Um.” Nin squinted at him with terrifying yellow eyes. “Spying.”
“What? Why?”
“After the rite, the evilqueen is weak for a moon or three or until the new prince or princess—”
Light shone from the courtyard beneath Nin. The beam of a bull’s-eye lantern swept across the window, and Ji’s view changed to a swirl of purple cloak as Nin vanished. The light flashed past the window three more times, like someone thought they’d seen something on the roof but wasn’t sure.
Ji crawled back to bed and pretended to sleep. He waited half an hour, but nobody came to question him. He couldn’t sleep, so he started prying at the floorboard again. He’d removed four nails in the past two days. Just fourteen more, and he’d squeeze through to the floor beneath.
When the door opened the next morning, Brace stepped inside.
“Brace!” Ji said. “I mean, Master Brace!”
Brace smiled. “You mean Lord Brace.”
“That’s exactly what I mean!” Ji said. Brace had officially become “Lord Brace” after being presented to the court, though he’d been called “lord” as a courtesy before then. “How’re Sally and Roz? Is Chibo still here? They didn’t send him back to—”
“Check it out.” Brace thrust one booted foot forward. “What do you think?”
“Those are An-Hank Cordwainer!” Ji gave a low whistle. “They’re awesome.”
And they were. The stingray-leather boots boasted elaborate eyelets and rows of silver-and-pearl bangles. Crimson stitches offset the turquoise inlaid in the stacked heels, and clusters of garnet, topaz, and fire opal decorated the toes.
“I mean, they’re awesome, m’lord. Topaz and opal.”
“Perfect for my big day,” Brace said, smoothing the cuffs of his embroidered jacket.
“Whoa,” Ji said. “You’re all dressed up. But, um, what about Roz and Sal—”
“Shhh!” Brace raised a finger and strolled closer. His skinny frame now looked sleek and wiry. “You have to start by asking for permission to speak.”
“Oh, okay,” Ji said, the ache in his neck throbbing. “Um . . . but do I have to ask permission to ask permission? I mean, otherwise I’m asking for permission without having permission to ask, aren’t I?”
“Would you just ask?” Brace said. “C’mon, Ji, you know how this works.”
Ji eyed him for a moment. “May I speak, m’lord?”
“Not now, no. There’s no time.”
So Ji dropped to his knees, then touched his forehead to the ground in front of Brace. He felt stupid, but kowtowing didn’t cost anything and might get him what he needed. And also, he liked seeing the gems on Brace’s new boots. They must’ve been worth a fortune; even Baroness Primstone didn’t wear clusters of fire opals, and the garnets seemed to glow from within.
“Will you please tell me where the others are, my lord?” he asked. “And how exactly we’re going to serve at this rite?”
“Just do what I tell you and you’ll be fine,” Brace said.
“And are the others—?”
“They’re serving, too.”
Mr. Ioso stomped through the doorway. “Let’s go, boy. Time for the Diadem Rite.”
“Now?” Ji asked, raising his head. “Now?”
Mr. Ioso grabbed the scruff of his neck. “Try ‘Yes, sir.’”
“Yes, sir!” Ji squeaked, and Mr. Ioso dragged him down the stairs.
In the front yard, he was relieved to see Sally and Chibo already sitting above the rear w
heels of the carriage. But where was Roz? Before Ji could ask, Mr. Ioso barked at him to plant his bony bum beside Sally, then hopped onto the running board.
Ji squeezed into place, and the carriage clattered through the gate and onto the street. They headed upward, higher on the mountain. Toward the Forbidden Palace. Toward the Diadem Rite.
25
“WHERE’VE YOU BEEN?” Sally asked, putting her arm around Chibo.
“Locked in my room,” Ji said. “How about you?”
“Locked in the stables.”
“Where’s Roz?”
Sally jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “In the carriage.”
“Thank summer,” Ji said, feeling a wash of relief. “Was she locked up, too?”
“I hope not. She’s born for better than sleeping on a hay bale. Where are they taking us?”
“We’re serving at the rite,” Ji told her, then saw movement on a rooftop down the block.
Smoke curled from chimneys. A flock of parrots swooped over treetops. And there, Nin’s purple cloak fluttered in the morning light.
Ji pointed to the ground furiously, trying to indicate, Now, now, it’s happening now.
Nin’s cloaked head nodded, and he bounded down the roof toward Ji. Like he thought Ji was saying, Come here now.
Ji made a shooing motion. No, no! Run away.
Across the canal, Nin made a shooing motion back at Ji.
“No, you buttonhead,” Ji mumbled, shooing even more shoo-ily.
Nin scrambled closer, making huge, two-armed shooing motions back toward Ji.
“Go!” Ji mouthed. “Go away!”
Nin paused, then disappeared behind a canal-side tree. Maybe he’d gotten the message and maybe he hadn’t, Ji couldn’t tell. Ogres were weird.
“I wonder what we’re serving at the rite,” Chibo said.
“Proctor and Brace, I guess,” Sally said.
“No, I mean, like, tea? Or appetizers? Or—”
“I don’t think we’re serving a meal, Chibo,” Sally said.
“Well, we can serve all sort of things.” Chibo blinked happily at a silver-trimmed coach that whooshed past. “We’re servants.”
The carriage rattled toward the mountaintop, along tree-lined boulevards with shrines and parks. Chibo chattered nonstop, thrilled by everything he heard and smelled and almost saw. Then the buildings fell away and the carriage stopped at the outer wall of the Forbidden Palace. After soldiers spoke with Proctor, the journey continued. The road zigzagged through steep parkland with boulders and wildflowers. Ji thought he saw another flash of purple in the trees, but he wasn’t sure.
“Look at that!” Sally said, pointing to a meadow.
“What are they?” Chibo asked, squinting. “Flowers?”
“Peacocks,” she said.
“Ooh!” He beamed in almost the right direction. “What else? Tell me!”
Sally described bridges and prayer flags and carp ponds as the carriage rumbled higher. Finally, they rattled into the parade grounds: long plazas where the queen’s troops marched and sparred. The clatter of weapons and the sound of military chants filled the air.
“There’s a couple hundred soldiers,” Sally told Chibo, in awe. “They’re training with swords and woldos and atlatls.”
“What’s a lalala?”
“An atlatl,” she said. “A dart launcher. You load one end, then fling it and— Ew!”
“‘Ew,’ what?” Chibo asked. “What, ‘ew’?”
“Goblins,” Sally said, peering to the side.
A crew of goblins hunched along a side street, bowed under the weight of buckets filled with dirt. The collars around their necks were brightly polished, but their mole-feet were bare and dirty.
“I guess the palace needs stuff dug, too,” Ji said.
Sally tugged her leather bracelet. “They remind me of what happened to Butler.”
“Yeah,” Ji said, and a commotion rang out from behind a barracks.
First shouts, then the clang of weapons—and screams. Ji frowned toward the sound but couldn’t see anything.
“I hope that’s not Nin,” he said.
“The cloaked lady Chibo told me about?” Sally asked. “Red Mask?”
Ji looked at Chibo. “You think Nin’s a girl?”
“Sure,” he said. “Don’t you?”
Before Ji could answer, a shadow fell over them. The massive inner wall to the Forbidden Palace rose in front of the carriage. Guards in plumed helmets lined an open gate. On the other side, dozens of halls and temples faced the queen’s tower, like servants kowtowing to a monarch.
“There are banners everywhere,” Sally told Chibo after the carriage rumbled through. “And lords and ladies strolling around, and— Look! I mean, don’t look. I mean, over there, the Royal Menagerie.”
“The zoo?” Chibo bounced with excitement. “No way!”
“Yeah, there’s boa constrictors and—are those raccoon dogs?”
“What I want to know,” Ji said, peering toward the front of the carriage, “is what’s that?”
A grand pavilion towered in front of them, draped in tapestries. Windmills spun in the breeze, turning bronze cylinders that sparkled and whirred. Shapes moved across the tapestries, like the spreading branches of a silver tree.
Ji gawked in amazement as the carriage stopped.
“It’s like watching a thousand-year-old tree grow,” Sally told Chibo, “except it’s made of silver and—”
“You lot, follow me,” Mr. Ioso grunted, then raised his voice. “You too, Miss Songarza.”
As Proctor escorted Brace toward the front entrance of the pavilion, Roz stepped from the carriage, wearing her favorite pink dress and carrying her beaded handbag.
A knot of fear loosened in Ji’s heart, and he mouthed, “Are you okay?”
“I am now,” she said with a quick smile.
Mr. Ioso led them into the pavilion through a servants’ entrance. The scent of forest streams filled the tented corridor, where a dozen servants waited. They looked about Ji’s age, half of them wearing ponchos decorated with hibiscus flowers, and the other half wearing brown-and-blue livery.
“Who’s that?” Chibo asked, peering forward.
“Servants,” Ji told him.
“Oh!” Chibo smiled toward the other servants. “Hi! I’m Chibo, and that’s my sister Sa—”
“Shut your ricehole,” one of the livery kids snapped.
“Keep your voices down or I’ll cut your throats.” Mr. Ioso listened to the sudden silence, then said, “Now follow me. Eyes down.”
Roz walked beside Mr. Ioso, with Ji and the other servants trailing behind. A hush descended. Ji felt itchy with nerves. Fabric walls billowed to either side, and lanterns glowed on ornate jade stands. Deeper in the pavilion, a breeze touched Ji’s face, and the soft burble of water grew louder.
Then Mr. Ioso opened a flap, and Roz stepped inside and gasped.
Ji followed her into an enormous tented hall at the center of the pavilion. The peaked ceiling rose higher than a towering tulip tree, and the cloth walls stretched as wide as a meadow. A semicircular balcony swept across the hall, and a pond bubbled in the center of the floor.
A big pond. Maybe a small lake.
Overlapping carpets covered the floor, sloping down toward the glimmering white-sand shore of the pond. At Mr. Ioso’s gesture, all the servants headed for a carpet near the shore and knelt facing the water.
Ji scowled. He didn’t mind kneeling, but telling Roz to kneel made his fists clench and his jaw tighten. She was better than the nobles, and the fact that they didn’t realize it only showed how true it was.
He knelt beside Roz, just in front of Sally and Chibo, and was about to say something when he realized that the white shore wasn’t sand. It was pearls. Thousands and thousands of tiny pearls. Whoa. A couple of handfuls of those and they’d be rich. . . .
Without moving her mouth, Roz said, “Don’t even think it.”
A gong sounded, and s
tone chimes trilled. Fancy-dressed lords and ladies promenaded onto the balcony and perched on plush benches, no doubt being rewarded for loyal service with front-row seats.
And then . . . nothing happened. The lords and ladies chattered and the servants waited. The chimes trilled. Even more nothing happened. After a while, Ji could barely hear himself think over all the nothing going on.
Then the gong sounded again, and the servant kids around Ji kowtowed. Behind him, he heard Sally telling Chibo to bow low. Ji started to do the same when he caught a glimpse of the queen taking her throne on the balcony. She was tall and slender, with a crown that rose from her hair like golden flames—and in person, she shone with presence. She seemed more real than anyone he’d ever seen, more there. Even the briefest glance made his breath catch.
He gaped at her until Roz elbowed him. Then he lowered his forehead to the carpet.
“The queen!” he whispered.
“I know,” Roz said. “She’s so entirely . . . royal.”
Priests gave speeches from the balcony, but Ji couldn’t hear most of the words over the bubbling of the pond. “. . . only the crown of summer will save us from the hordes . . . ogres and hobgoblins, merfolk and . . . The ice witch and the winter snake never rest . . . pray that today, the Diadem Rite will choose an heir to the Summer Crown!”
The queen stepped to the edge of the balcony and silence fell.
Even the pond stopped bubbling. A few ripples spread across the water, and then the surface turned as smooth as glass.
“Every year for the past five,” the Summer Queen said, her voice as pure and strong as a blizzard, “the Diadem Rite hath tested possible heirs. None yet have passed. However, this day shows rare promise. Three young people strive for greatness. Three souls reach for the diadem, three hearts beat with the blood of nobles . . . yet only one shall be declared the true heir.”
She gestured to the floor below the balcony, where Brace stood with two other noble kids. One was a crabby-looking girl in a military-style brown-and-blue jacket and an awesome pair of combat boots. The other was a younger boy wearing a silken hibiscus-decorated poncho, with silken breeches and jewel-encrusted silk slippers.