Thorn of the Night Blossoms

by J C Kang

  “Then you can’t tell the Gardener or Florist that’s why I’m going with you.”

  Chapter 5

  “Absolutely not.” Shaking her head so hard it might fall off, the Gardener stood up from her desk and slapped her palm on its shiny surface. Looking more like a Black Lotus trainer than a brothel owner, she glared from Jie to Lilian and back again.

  Behind her stood Florist Wei, gaze sympathetic. She folded her hands into the long sleeves of her green dress.

  Despite Jie’s best efforts to keep her impromptu invitation to the Peony Garden secret, rumors in the Floating World sprouted faster than toxic mushrooms after a spring rain. Gardener Ju, a woman of middling years whose charm and talents still drew Hummingbirds to her bed, had summoned Jie and Lilian to her office just as the House’s mid-afternoon preparations had begun.

  Jie bowed her head. “Please, Gardener. I can’t back down. I’d lose face.”

  “Not as much as when Lusha humiliates you.” The Gardener’s eyes sharpened like blades. “You’ve been here for six years, and still have less grace and propriety than a second-year Seedling.”

  Bowing low, Jie stewed. It wasn’t as though she couldn’t learn all the inane rituals. It just wasn’t worth the effort. Not when she’d eventually leave the Floating World and make use of her real skills.

  The Gardener rounded her desk, subtly limping from an old injury to her left leg. She harrumphed. “You’d be worthless, if not for your exotic face and pointed ears.”

  Behind her, the Florist gave a subtle shake of her head. How ironic that it was an accountant who had the most warmth among the seniors in this House.

  The Gardener’s ire shifted to Lilian. “And you: not only allowing her, but trying to hide it.”

  “I’m sorry.” Lilian bowed low.

  The Gardener turned back to Jie, teeth gritted. “Many wealthy patrons will be there tonight, including three of your highest bidders. If you lose badly, they’ll be well within their rights to rescind their bids. That would be bad for our house, and bad for your contract holder.”

  Jie suppressed a smirk. The Gardener couldn’t care less about her contract holder, supposedly a broker of orphan girls, but really a shell company for the Black Lotus Clan. Her concern was her cut of the virgin price, part of the payment for Jie’s training. The clan, on the other hand… While it certainly stood to lose a pretty copper fen, the amount didn’t begin to compare to the financial benefits of imperial patronage.

  Still, every Floret cared about her virgin price, and Jie chastised her own vanity for feeling the same. She lowered her bow another several degrees. “I’m sorry, Gardener. I wasn’t thinking of the consequences.”

  “It’s time you learned.” The Gardener searched her eyes. “Once you finish your afternoon chores, you will be confined to Lilian’s room tonight, with a guard posted outside the door. His overtime pay will come from your bond.”

  Jie held her bow, if only to keep her smile hidden. No doubt, the Gardener assumed that with Lilian’s room on the third floor, as far from the main entrance as possible, Jie had no way of sneaking out. Which she would, since the safety of her clan sisters preempted any concern about risks to her virgin price. “As you command, Gardener.”

  With a huff, the Gardener sat back down and returned to writing a letter.

  The Florist cleared her throat. “Gardener, may they go?”

  Not looking up, the Gardener waved a dismissive hand.

  The Florist gave them a sympathetic look. “Off you go.”

  Coming out of her bow, Jie exchanged glances with Lilian and departed.

  Lilian flashed hand signals. Is there anything I can do to convince you not to go?

  Of course not. Jie grinned.

  She followed Lilian back to her room. While Lilian freshened up for the soirée at the Peony Garden, Jie decoded the poem the jade vendor had given her, using a cipher made just for him. Since he’d written a poem, the message contained several ambiguities; but the gist was that the Lord of Jinjing had dropped an exorbitant amount of money in many of the houses over the last several months.

  Not sure of what to make of it, other than his seed likely going dry, Jie went about her afternoon. Today it was her turn to clean and set up the spacious common room, which vaulted three stories up with mezzanines overlooking it. While most of the Seedlings and Florets despised the messy work, it was not all that different from processing a crime scene. Memories of which wealthy merchant or lord sat where, ate what, and saw whom, all formed a tapestry of information.

  Last night, Lord Ting had sat in front of the right-hand side of the stage, his favorite spot, entertaining a minor lord. Perhaps trying to assuage his concerns about the empire? So dashing and formidable, he looked like a hero of old next to the other lord. Beloved by the imperial court. Adored by the populace. If only the common folk knew what he enjoyed behind closed doors.

  Jie had served them, ostensibly to attract more bids on her virginity, but really to eavesdrop. They’d quieted as soon as she approached, despite the Floating World convention that anything that happened here, stayed here.

  Nonetheless, Lilian had gathered significant damning information over the months: stockpiling of weapons, unapproved saltpeter mines, suspicious transactions. The Emperor had yet to order any action, hoping Lord Ting could solve the problem peaceably.

  Now working where Lord Ting had sat, Jie looked up to the second-floor mezzanine. Lilian had stood there, beckoning him. His rosewood chair’s angle in relation to the matching round table suggested he’d been in a hurry to leave. Apparently, a tumble between the sheets took precedence over talking an underling out of treason.

  He wouldn’t come calling tonight; not with Lilian at the Peony Garden.

  Along with Jie, who’d find a way to slip the Gardener’s watchful eye.

  ***

  Jie studied the dwarf-made padlock, considering. Though the first-floor window shutters had simple hook locks, the second and third floors had none. The Gardener must’ve been quite concerned about Jie trying to escape to not only to lock this shutter, but also use an expensive device usually reserved for the most valuable treasures. It was almost flattering to be thought of as such.

  Maybe it was meant as a warning; or perhaps punishment. Otherwise, it bordered on overkill. The Gardener didn’t know Jie could scale the walls, after all. She also didn’t know that elf ears could hear the tumblers in the lock.

  Jie set to work, turning the combination at each click. Six turns and ten seconds later, it yielded with a snick.

  She chuckled to herself. If the Chrysanthemum Pavilion had known about her true identity, the Gardener would’ve had Jie naked and chained. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time that had happened to a Blossom in the House, though under very different circumstances.

  Time to pick something out to wear. Lilian had numerous beautiful gowns, many gifts from Hummingbirds. Her pink dress with embroidered doves would suggest innocence, and possibly drive up bids. With a grin, Jie went to Lilian’s closet and slid open the door.

  Empty.

  Her brow furrowed. The Gardener had taken beyond extraordinary precautions but she still underestimated Jie.

  Channeling her Inner Steel Orchid, she lifted the carpet, revealing the floorboard door to a secret compartment. Inside, she found Lilian’s stealth suit, a curved dagger, and several throwing spikes and stars. In a segmented compartment lay several vials of intoxicants, packed carelessly close to the three crossbow bolts retrieved from earlier today as evidence; unmistakable from Jie’s own scent on the one she’d caught. Given Lord Ting’s penchant for rough play, a jolt in the wrong place could crack the vials.

  Jie banished the thought of Lilian taming Lord Ting with her body. She withdrew the stealth suit. The stretchy material would’ve been skin-tight but flexible on Lilian’s larger frame, allowing freedom of motion without the risk of snagging a loose sleeve, or a droopy pant leg knocking something over. Even with Jie’s smaller build, th
e clothes fit snugly. If the common folk believed that the Black Fists were more than boogiemen that stole disobedient children, the stealth suit embellished Lilian’s curves so much that her patrons might want her to roleplay Naughty Assassin in it. Seduce the Assassin Before She Kills You, they’d call it.

  Wearing Lilian’s larger Black Fist shoes, with the big toe separated from the others, she tiptoed to the door and listened. The guard’s breathing had slowed, perhaps to the point of dozing off. The sound of revelry carried on, though quieter than on most nights, given that everyone who was anyone would be attending the party at the Peony Garden. With free time on her hands, maybe the Gardener would check on her, maybe not. There was no way to prepare for that possibility.

  Satisfied she could do no more to hide her tracks, Jie went to the window and looked. The chamber overlooked the capital’s southeast reservoir, which reflected the red lanterns hanging above the Floating World’s perimeter moat. It left the wall in darkness.

  Yet another house guard patrolled the courtyard below. Maybe he was there to prevent intruders from climbing through a first-floor window, or attempting to go in through the door to the kitchens, but that wasn’t standard procedure on a regular night.

  And given that tonight would be slower than usual because of the festivities at the Peony Garden, it meant the Gardener had placed the guard there for her.

  She turned to the last exit from the room: the fireplace. Only three rooms in the entire mansion had this rare architectural feature from the land of the fair-skinned: Lilian, as preeminent Blossom, had one; and right below, the Gardener’s own room. On the first floor, the common room’s hearth backed up to the kitchens’ ovens. All four shared the same flue network, merging close to the roof.

  With the ovens raging at full blast, those last three feet risked burns and smoke inhalation, and guaranteed soot and ash in every pore.

  Still, it provided the easiest way out, and some ashes over her naturally pale complexion would help her move through the night. She took Lilian’s pillow case and tore it to cover her hands, and her mouth and nose. It smelled like Lilian’s hair, all honeysuckle and honey.

  Then she started her climb. Past the wind shelf, the width of the first section of flue forced her to wriggle up, hands close to her body. At the flue junction, she reached up and tested the bricks.

  Hot, but not scalding. She might have two seconds to clear this last section without burning her palms through the remains of Lilian’s pillowcase. She took a deep breath, grabbed the hot ridge where the flues merged, and propelled herself up. Black smoke made it difficult to see. Her feet found purchase on the ridge, and she jumped, shooting her hands and feet out to suspend herself in the larger flue. The bricks heated her palms as she spider-climbed to the top. With a last burst of energy, she gripped the burning rim of the chimney, pulled herself out, and flipped over on to the tiles.

  Her feet slipped on the steep pitch, the ash on the too-large shoes providing poor traction on slick tiles. She slid, much too fast, her body going over the eaves. At the last second, she shook off her improvised hand wraps and grabbed hold of the edge.

  She’d almost become a splatter of half-elf in the courtyard below.

  Heart racing, she blew out a breath and swung over to the closest window shutters. Her toes found the narrow ledge, and she reached under the eaves and pulled herself over. After the initial scare, the descent was child’s play. She and Lilian had done this so many times that finding the hand and footholds in the planks, window sills, and awning tiles came easily.

  Her feet landed on the pavestones without a sound. With her elf vision adjusting to the darkness and transforming the world into hues of grey-green, she dashed over to the compound walls, climbed over, and took shadowed back alleys to the Peony Garden. Chrysanthemum House’s main rival in the Floating World, it lay just a block away. Their very layouts were similar, since they’d been designed by the same architect.

  Which meant Jie might be able to get in and out without ever having to confront Lusha in a poetry duel.

  Chapter 6

  Jie stood toward the rear of the Peony Garden, a near-exact replica of the Chrysanthemum Pavilion. Given the hour and the festivities, there’d be no easy insertion points. The Florist’s and Gardener’s windows would certainly be locked from the inside, as would most of the other first-floor windows.

  Yuna would be in the trainee room, but getting her attention risked waking the other Seedlings. Instead, Jie climbed over the walls, then up to the red-tiled awning on the second floor. There, she crept along, checking the other windows. Most stood unshuttered to let in the cool night air. In some rooms, Florets still fussed with their Blossoms’ jewelry, hair, and make-up. From the giggling and grunting in a few others, some Blossoms had already left the party to bring impatient Hummingbirds back to their rooms.

  Jie looked up at the third-floor windows. With her arms so exhausted, it wasn’t worth the risk of finding yet more occupied rooms. She climbed down and proceeded to the kitchens.

  As expected, the back door lay ajar and the kitchens buzzed with activity, like the Black Lotus Temple’s training Hall of Darting Daggers. Chefs’ apprentices prepped meats and vegetables, while higher-ups stir-fried, braised, and steamed delicacies fit for a great lord. Florets scurried to take small plates of snacks, only to transform into the embodiment of beauty as they passed through the doors to the common room.

  Swallowing down a pit of jealousy, Jie entered. She threaded through the bustle, always using someone’s back as cover, twisting or ducking to avoid the gaze of anyone who happened to look up from their work. She reached the open side door and slipped through into a side yard.

  As in the Chrysanthemum Pavilion, the little courtyard provided easy servant access to the bathhouses. She kept to the shrubs lining the mansion, pausing behind each of the two cherry blossom trees before coming to the servants’ door.

  No sounds came from within, as would be expected at this hour. She opened the door and peeked in. Partially shuttered light-bauble lamps hung between three sliding doors on either side of the hall, shedding enough light for her vision to return to normal. The double doors at the far end muffled the festive sounds from the common room. If someone happened to open the door…

  Jie zigzagged over the nightingale floors and came to the closest door. Confirming no one dallied inside, she slid it open and ducked in.

  Warm, humid steam filled her lungs, percolating off a central wooden tub set into the wood floors. A polite half-elf would’ve scrubbed herself clean outside of the tub, using the basins on the floor and the towels in the cubbies. Time being of the essence, she stripped off the filthy stealth suit and slipped into the bath.

  The tepid water nearly made her yelp. Though Black Lotus training included meditating under freezing waterfalls, many years had passed since Jie had done so. Heated by copper pipes which ran under the mansion from the central hearth, the baths had yet to reach optimal temperature.

  A wave of ash and grit floated out from her sooty body, ruining the water for others. She rinsed out her hair and scrubbed her skin, all the while bemoaning her flat body. With very few half-elves mentioned in history to use an example, who knew when she’d fill out? Until then, she was cursed to remain in the Floating World, working as a Floret.

  Satisfied she’d washed the evidence of her chimney escapades away, Jie climbed out, dried herself off, and donned one of the white silk bathrobes hanging from a hook above the cubbies. She tied her hair up and secured it with a bladed hairpin and lockpicks. To prevent some poor Seedling or Floret from receiving a browbeating for the dirty water, Jie unplugged the stopper—they came loose often during Hummingbirds’ exuberant play.

  She then removed the light baubles from the lamps and wrapped them in the stealth suit, which she in turn folded into the towel. With a quick look to see that the scene was otherwise undisturbed, she crept back into the hallway and out into the yard.

  Slipping into Lilian’s shoes, Jie
glided around the outside of the bathhouse and into a wider courtyard. On the veranda off of the mansion, partially shuttered light baubles illuminated several distinguished-looking men cavorting with Blossoms. The ladies covered obligatory giggles at bad jokes with their dainty hands.

  The white robe would make it difficult to sneak past them unseen, so Jie turned back. Fingers and toes finding handholds in the bathhouse’s planks, she wormed her way up to the roof. Using the pitch of the roof to keep herself hidden from the veranda and balconies, she worked her way back to the central mansion.

  A window overlooked the bathhouse roof, a line of light shining between the shutters. Testing the hinges to make sure they were well-oiled, Jie opened one of the leaves a crack and peeked in. No people or shadows moved, and the only the sounds came from the party below. She opened it just wide enough for her slight build and climbed in.

  Rosewood chairs flanked a decorative table on a round wool carpet. A large bed with a matching rosewood frame occupied the east wall, while brush paintings hung on the walls. The lack of Dragonscribe magic in them, and the spring motifs in the art, suggested the room belonged to a newer Blossom.

  Jie crept over to the dressing niche and looked in a mirror standing on a make-up table. Indeed, compared to the celebrated Corsages of the Floating World, elf-blood made her exotic, unique: dark brown hair instead of black, a sharper nose, larger eyes, and those tapered ears. A clan elder had once said, The wealthiest men in the realm will seek her out. Her virgin price alone will fund clan operations for a year, and even after, they’ll line up for the chance to be next.

  She sighed. Like Lilian, she’d be stuck in the Floating World, gathering information and making money for the clan while lying on her back. Maybe it was time to practice the renowned grace of the Blossoms.

  Shaking the thought out of her head, she turned her attention to the paper lodged into the mirror frames. The self-affirmations, notes on Hummingbird kinks, and a cosmetics shopping list indicated the room belonged to Namei, a pretty girl from the coast.