Arsenic drew herself upright. “I will help any in need, Captain! I am na a diplomatic trinket to be exchanged, and you shouldna barter with the health of others. Besides, my skills have eased our way.”
As indeed it did appear to be the case. After discovering Arsenic, The Spotted Custard was rushed through the rest of customs with unseemly haste. Everything that he’d read about the process assured Percy that customs in Edo were the worst in the world, sometimes taking the better part of a week, and yet they found themselves safely moored to a friendly little plant-strewn dock by the time the sun set.
The lanterns around them glimmered into life. The one directly above casting the Custard in a red glow.
Everyone let out an ooo of appreciation.
Tasherit came abovedecks, blinking at the colourful lights, to find herself in a world unlike any even she had seen in all her long years on earth.
Primrose went to her. “Isn’t it lovely?”
The werelioness looked pale. “It is, little one, but, oh—” She stumbled to the side. Prim caught her up.
His sister’s face wrinkled in concern, or stomachache, Percy wasn’t great on expressions.
Arsenic ran to the cat shifter. “What’s wrong?”
Tash shook her head. “I’m feeling a little groggy.”
“The long sleep in the grey?” wondered Prim, while Arsenic touched Tash’s forehead and checked the pulse at her neck.
Tasherit batted the doctor away. “Don’t fuss. It’s not serious.”
“Can you shift?” Rue asked, no doubt thinking of ship’s defences.
The cat shook her head. “Unlikely.”
“Does it feel like him?” Arsenic pointed at Rodrigo, standing innocently some distance away.
“No. It’s not preternatural or metanatural.”
Arsenic summoned Rodrigo over. “Are you experiencing any strange sensations as a result of your unnatural state?”
Rodrigo made a funny face. “What?”
“Is your preternatural side feeling weird?” Percy translated Arsenic’s frantic words into Italian.
“No.”
“Stop, Captain!” Arsenic turned back in time to interpose herself between Rue and the werecat. “You might still be shifted by touching her. You must stay away.”
Rue frowned, then nodded and backed off.
“You’re feeling normal yourself?”
Rue nodded again.
Arsenic turned back to the werecat. “You canna shift. ’Tis connected to the woozy feeling?”
“No. I think we’re simply too high. The aetherosphere may dip low here and be close to us, affecting my abilities. I’m not sure. I don’t think the two sensations are connected.” Her shoulders slumped. She looked almost human frail. “I feel quite tired for having recently slept nearly a month.”
Percy noticed that his sister’s knees buckled slightly as Tasherit gave her even more of her weight.
Arsenic moved to slide under the werecat’s other arm, supporting her as well. “Let’s get you back to bed.”
A polite cough interrupted them.
A small group of beautifully dressed Japanese women stood before them on the dock. The Custard’s gangplank was down, but thus far not a single person had approached out of Edo. Apart from the military confiscation, they’d not seen anyone since the depuff.
Percy thought the ladies looked about Aunt Alexia’s age, but delicate with it. They moved with small steps on high sandals. Their faces were painted white with red lips. Their hair was dressed high and overly elaborate. They looked like dolls.
Rue regarded them for a moment and then gestured Anitra forward as speaker.
Anitra bowed deeply and made her opening remarks.
There was an elaborate exchange of formal greetings, but unlike the guards earlier, these ladies seemed eager to speak to Anitra rather than Percy. If anything, they gave him, Rodrigo, Quesnel, and the deckhands wary regard.
Rue noticed. “Percy, you and Quesnel help Tasherit belowdecks. Rodrigo, Bork, Willard, move to the other side. Prim, you’re now first line of defence. Parasol at the ready, please. Although I don’t believe these ladies are a threat.”
“Oh, but…” Primrose clearly wished to go with her lover.
“Wait, Captain, I need to…” Arsenic as well.
Anitra turned from talking with the newcomers. “They are here for you, Doctor.”
Arsenic was clearly torn.
Tasherit settled it. “I’m fine. You think that after hundreds of years on this earth I don’t know a real risk to my survival? This feels tether related. I likely need earth under my feet and a good hunt by moonlight. This is no concern of yours, Doctor. See to your duties, ladies. Gentlemen, shall we?”
Prim nodded and ceded her place to Quesnel. Arsenic did the same to Percy.
She gave him an unfathomable look as they brushed arms. Percy tried to reassure her with a tip of his head. She chewed on her bottom lip, smiled at him softly, then turned to their visitors.
Together, Percy and Quesnel helped the werecat across the deck and down the ladder to her quarters.
Arsenic regarded the three women before her. Their manners were diffident. Their eyes were eager on her face and very focused. Despite a certain doll-like impassivity, these ladies could not disguise their delight in seeing her.
Arsenic had experienced various reactions to her chosen profession over the years but never before joy. Relief, on occasion, especially with female patients whose complaints related to procreation, childbirth, or sexual encounters. To these ladies, she represented something more like hope.
“Sisters of the afflicted?” she asked Anitra.
Anitra translated for the women. “Handmaidens.”
Arsenic took a second look at the ladies. Their hair was exquisitely arranged and decorated with silk flowers and sticks from which ribbons dangled. Each wore two or three layers of embroidered silk. Robes that looked not unlike dressing gowns, but of such stunning quality they were obviously designed for public show. They wore wide belts as well, coordinated but not exactly matching the robes. These were tied at the back around a large cushion, creating a massive puff with trailing ends. This resembled something like the bustle of England’s previous decade, only higher up at the small of the back. The sash wound up and over the shoulders. Arsenic wondered if that was to assist in support of the bustle.
It was a great deal of fabric and fuss and expensive cloth for three servants.
“Are you sure? They look like royalty.”
Anitra crooked an eyebrow. “You wish me to press the question?”
Arsenic thought better of it. “Nay. May I ask a little on the nature of their mistress’s affliction? It’d help me know what to bring for treatment.”
The handmaidens were amenable.
Arsenic dug a bit into the manifestations of the lady’s illness. Determining quickly that it was unlikely to be respiratory, skeletal, or skin related.
“Is she eating? Does her stomach ache?”
Their answers steered her in no better direction, until finally Rue put a stop to it.
“This is getting you nowhere, Doctor. Please go collect your basic supplies.”
Arsenic did so, collecting only her telescoping travel kit. Chronic lethargy could be anything from emotional withdrawal to a tumour of the lungs. It was likely that she’d need to convince the patient to return with them to visit her swoon room for a proper examination.
Arsenic checked on Tasherit while she was belowdecks. The werecat was asleep, once more curled in a ball in the centre of her bed. Arsenic worried but didn’t know how to help a supernatural creature. Here’s hoping I can prove my worth with a human patient.
Abovedecks, Rue and Prim were engaged in a hissed argument, apparently about something one of the handmaidens had said.
Arsenic trundled up, carrying her kit.
Rue looked at her. “You don’t have to go, Doctor. They are insisting that you go alone.”
Arsen
ic shook her head. “I canna. I need at least Anitra. I studied the language but I’m by no means fluent enough to ask useful questions.”
“The handmaidens claim that the patient herself speaks perfect English.”
“Aye? Verra interesting. Weel then, I should get on.”
Rue put her foot down. “No, Doctor. You aren’t going alone into Edo with three strange women in embroidered night attire. I’m sorry. I know they look harmless, but…”
Arsenic quirked a brow. “Captain, I’m entirely aware of the fact that the most beautiful and delicate looking among us are often the most deadly. What do you suggest? Otherwise, we are at an impasse.”
Rue considered the gentlemen standing off to one side. Quesnel and Percy had returned up top and joined Rodrigo near navigation, where they were trying to look unthreatening. Only Percy succeeded.
“I shall send one of the men with you. You might require the perceived authority of the male animal.”
Arsenic gave their three gentleman officers a sceptical look. “From them? Authority?”
She turned and considered the handmaidens, all standing patiently with mouths hidden behind open fans. “I doubt they will allow him into the patient’s presence.”
“They must have allowed male doctors in at one point. Otherwise they would not now be resorting to you.”
Arsenic wrinkled her nose. “The question becomes, then, which one do I take, and what subterfuge do we use to persuade these ladies that ’tis vital I have an escort?”
Rue considered. “Rodrigo is the most physically powerful but also the least predictable. Quesnel would be good as a general rule.”
Arsenic disagreed. “I’m afraid it must be Percy. He speaks the language near as well as Anitra, and he can tell me if they say anything important between themselves.”
“I suppose you’re right. Pity we can’t send him armed.”
Arsenic blinked at this. “Aye?”
“Oh yes, he’s a crack shot.”
Rue gave a nod to their visitors and then dashed across the deck, leaving Arsenic, Anitra, and Primrose staring awkwardly at the three Japanese ladies.
“I like your bustles,” said Primrose via Anitra, pointing to the puffs of fabric at their backs.
“Obi,” corrected one of them. Then gestured to the robe part of her outfit. “Kimono.”
“Very pretty,” asserted Prim.
The handmaidens exchanged glances with each other from behind fans, and then bowed at Prim in what was probably their version of graciously accepting a compliment.
One of them responded with marked interest in Prim’s hat, which was a wide straw affair decorated with multiple ostrich feathers and having more fluff than application. It was night so Prim hardly required the shade, yet the handmaidens looked upon it with frank approval.
Rue returned, pulling Percy alongside. She said, much to everyone’s surprise, except Percy, who looked resigned, “This here is Percival Tunstell. He is our doctor’s husband. Lord and master and so forth. He must, perforce, accompany her. In our culture, husbands go everywhere with wives.”
Anitra translated the blatant falsehoods with consummate smoothness.
Percy jerked to a stop next to Arsenic.
Arsenic couldn’t help it, she grinned at him and batted her lashes. “Dinna look so miserable.”
“Rue’s making me.”
“I know she is, husband darling. Light of my life.”
Percy groaned softly but offered her his arm, as if dredging up some forgotten memory of what a man was supposed to do with his wife.
The handmaidens spoke briefly among themselves and then said that this was acceptable. Of course a husband would not permit his wife into an unknown city without him. They were impressed that he’d married the doctor and yet allowed her to continue practicing.
“Are women not permitted professions in your culture?” Primrose asked.
The ladies did not respond, exchanging glances.
Finally one said, “We are not to be doctors, which is why you are so welcome as a visitor.” She bowed at Arsenic.
Arsenic bowed back. “Speaking of which, you are no doubt eager for me to see your mistress. As she is in great need of relief, should we perhaps get on?” The rules of polite behaviour seemed even more strict in Japan than in the finest dining rooms of London’s high society. If she did not press them to leave, the handmaidens might stand making niceties with the crew all night.
The handmaidens’ faces remained impassive but Arsenic sensed that they were relieved. They bowed low to Rue and Primrose and then turned to bow to the men left standing on the poop deck. The decklings received shallower bows.
Spoo bowed back. Following her lead, the rest of the deck crew did the same.
Rue and Prim curtsied, Anitra bowed, and after a few rounds of this silent farewell abasement, the handmaidens turned and began moving away, their tiny steps making them appear to glide down the Custard’s gangplank.
Arm in arm, Arsenic and Percy followed them.
NINE
Arsenic Has a Patient
Percy found the Paper City as stunning inside as it was from without. The lanterns cast colourful light on the streets, while the night sky beyond twinkled with stars.
They followed the handmaidens over roads that were made of stiff slatted reeds and arched, one after another, like a chain of perfect bridges. The storefronts and houses alongside were colour balanced and complementary to the balloons above, so that everything was aesthetically cohesive. They moved from the red zone to the gold, to the green, to the blue in seamless beauty. Each different neighbourhood was decorated, beribboned, and stylish like the best Worth gown. There were only a few people here and there, all of whom bowed low as they passed.
“’Tis like a set dressing for a stage play,” Arsenic said to Percy.
He looked closer at the gilded elegance. He hadn’t noticed the stilted nature of its appearance, but she was right. Edo was very stage-like – self-consciously cultivated and uncomfortably false.
Arsenic snorted softly. “You were wondering how it stays up and together, aye?”
“And what keeps it from drifting.”
“Whereas I was wondering – where are all the people?”
It made an odd kind of sense to Percy. “It’s a port city, for show, for foreigners to use. Sanitized. Everyone here is likely to be carefully vetted diplomatic representatives.”
“’Tis actually a stage, in its way?” Arsenic nodded. “You’re suggesting that the Americans whisked in twenty years ago and by dint of foisting trade upon the Japanese, encouraged a performance city?”
Percy nodded. “Show only the best to outsiders. The whole place is the Japanese version of a London receiving room.”
They spoke frankly to each other, but in hushed tones. The ladies were in front of them, and they didn’t want to appear rude. But Percy was also careful not to say anything that might be misconstrued. They were speaking English, but this was a port city.
“’Tis verra beautiful.” Arsenic seemed to understand his careful phrasing.
“And here, I think, beauty has a way of meaning moral superiority,” replied Percy.
“As though London high society dinna believe the same. Vampires have much to answer for.”
Percy frowned. “You think they are at work here in Edo?”
“I hadna considered that. Look at you, Professor, coming over with a bout of cultural perception.”
“I can analyse culture when it’s required.”
“When ’tis scientific and logical.”
“Same difference.”
Arsenic paused in their banter and her steps. This allowed their guides to get a little ahead. Her attention was arrested by the open storefront of a nearby shop.
Percy followed her gaze. Bundles of dry herbs hung from a framed doorway, with beautifully arranged wicker baskets of more stretching back into the shop. Paper bags filled with mysterious items were stacked in rows on shelves. Ther
e was something about it that screamed medicinal, rather than culinary. One might expect glass bottles of tinctures, but Percy supposed they would want to keep everything as light as possible in Edo.
“’Tis remarkable,” said Arsenic, big eyes even bigger in awe. “I wonder what they…”
A wizened gentleman came to the fore. He wore a kind of robe, only shorter and with wide-legged trousers beneath, like a lady’s split skirt for riding, with a sash for a belt.
Percy greeted him with a bow and the formal words of strangers opening a dialogue of mutual interest.
The man bowed low in response. “Welcome. You wish to trade?”
Percy screwed his courage to the sticking point and decided that since he was speaking Japanese (and could be overheard and understood) he should adhere to the fabricated relationship. “Your wares interest my wife.” To claim her so made him flush furiously.
“She has knowledge of medicine?” The apothecary looked with shock at Arsenic.
“She does.”
“Not you?”
“Not me.”
Arsenic began sniffing herbs and muttered to herself. “Is this cardamom? What could it be used for?”
“You are permissive with your womenfolk. You foreigners.”
Percy bowed again, trying to think of a good answer. “I think you will find it is the other way around.”
The man started. “We rarely meet the women of the West, except for those who travel for pleasure.”
“Tourists,” agreed Percy. “Are all your women such? Surely some must work.” He was trying to make a point.
The apothecary spread his hand. “Only those of the highest rank float among the lanterns without labour.”
“So” – Percy smiled – “we are not so very different.”
Arsenic came over to them, proffered up a seedpod. “Ask him what they use it for, please, Percy.”
Percy asked.
“Your wife is not a good doctor if she does not know jehotang, for cooling of the mind.”
The handmaidens, having noticed they’d lost their foreigners, backtracked and now stood watching with interest.
Arsenic noticed them and the apothecary’s sneer at the same time. “I must prove my mettle.”
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