Thorn of the Night Blossoms

by J C Kang

  Jie gave a tentative nod.

  Stripping off her dressing robe, revealing her glorious figure, Lilian went to her secret floor compartment.

  “I wore your stealth suit yesterday, and got it dirty going up the chimney. It’s under Little Wen’s bed in the Peony Garden.”

  “So that’s how you got out.” Lilian giggled, shaking her head. She went to her wardrobe and withdrew a dark shirt and pair of pants, and put them on. She twirled as if showing off a new dress. “How do I look?”

  Stunning, even in plain clothes. A grin tugged at Jie’s lips, unbidden. “Like a pig.”

  With a pig-like snort, Lilian opened her window shutters and climbed out.

  A bad feeling twisted Jie’s gut; the feeling that maybe that kiss would be her last memory of Lilian.

  Chapter 10

  Waiting in Lilian’s dressing area, Jie applied make-up appropriate for a full-fledged Blossom, for what might her first assignation. With Lilian gone, Jie had cried until her tears ran dry, and now had dark rings under her eyes. Not even the powder foundation could hide them, so she applied paste concealer and kohl eyeliner. It was amazing she could keep a steady hand while worry tied her stomach in knots.

  Dusk cast long shadows over the Floating World, and Lilian had yet to return.

  All the girls had already left. From the sound of it, the kitchen staff had finished preparations and were getting ready to leave as well. Logs in the common room hearth crackled, the sound and heat carrying through the flues and into Lilian’s room.

  Hidden among the other noises were the sounds of hands and feet climbing up the wall.

  Jie let out a sigh of relief and ran to the window, throwing open the shutters.

  Little Wen’s eyes widened. “Elder Sister! How did you hear me? Of course you heard me.”

  All her worries rushed back, cutting short her joy at seeing Wen. Jie helped her climb in. “What are you doing here?”

  Wen brushed off her stealth suit, which embellished her curves even more than her gowns. “Lilian came to me. When I told her I’d found out where Masked Crossbowman ate, she decided to use herself as bait. She wants you to go there as backup.”

  Blood drained from Jie’s head. Lilian wouldn’t stand a chance. “Meet me outside the kitchen door.”

  Wen climbed back through the window; snatching up a high-collared, dark-blue gown, Jie rushed out to the balcony overlooking the common room. The Gardener and Florist were talking in Lord Ting’s favorite corner, setting a feast at the round table and making a last check to make sure everything was perfect before they left for the night.

  Zigzagging over the safe spots of the nightingale floors, Jie dashed to the stairwell, descended, and reached the room she shared with the Florets and Seedlings. She retrieved a dagger and throwing stars from her chest’s false bottom, and put on her stealth suit. She threw the dark-blue outer gown on over it. Only a few minutes had passed by the time she returned to the hallway to the common room.

  The Gardener and Florist were blocking the way to the kitchens, so she stayed low and crept over to the main door. Opening it just wide enough, she slipped out.

  The vantage point gave her a good view of the main gates, where Lord Ting and his entourage of four men waited, their crimson livery ablaze even in the low light. He stood taller and broader than the rest, a man among boys. They were surrendering their swords and daggers to the gate guards, per the customs and conventions of the Floating World. For their part, the guards took longer than usual, no doubt instructed by the Gardener to stall until Lilian came down from her room—not knowing that Lilian was missing.

  “You can keep that,” the guard said, motioning to what looked like a wooden club, which one of Lord Ting’s men presented.

  The other’s sash moved stiffly when he withdrew his scabbarded sword, as if a launderer had used too much starch. Jie stared at it for a moment, but Lilian’s safety took priority. She tore her gaze away and ran along the side of the mansion to the rear, through the kitchen’s side door and out the back.

  Wen waited there, her expression scrunched up. She beckoned. “Come on. It’s a stand outside Yue Heaven.”

  “No, you go light the lantern at the Black Lotus Shrine, then go to the safehouse.” With a shake of her head, Jie took off down the alleys toward the Yue Heaven.

  With the Floating World coming to life, she paused at intersections with major streets, and used the shadows cast by the red lanterns to move unseen and unheard. Laughing men filtered in for a night of adventure and debauchery, providing plenty of cover.

  The scent of sesame-ginger grew stronger until she froze at the side of an opium den. Across the street stood the recently-opened Yue Heaven. Boasting euphoric properties, it came from a tree in the North, and the Imperial Court promoted it as a cheaper alternative to opium. Its only side-effects were increased libido and food cravings, which was probably why there was a stand beside it selling pork and vegetables on a skewer. The vendor, head wrapped in a kerchief, grilled the food behind a makeshift bar with six stools. Two men in guards’ robes sat together, chatting. There was no sign of Lilian.

  Maybe Masked Crossbowman and his comrades had already captured her, and Jie had arrived too late to help.

  Heart racing, Jie checked both directions, gauging the way the crowds turned their heads. With the blind spots timed, she kept low and darted across the street, until she stood behind the vendor. The aroma of sesame and ginger drowned out all other smells.

  Modulating her voice to a deeper timbre, she threw it with the clan’s Ghost Echo technique to make it sound like it was coming from the two men. “That Ju Lilian of the Chrysanthemum Pavilion is a beauty!”

  “She sure is,” the vendor said, nodding as he turned over skewers, but thankfully not looking up.

  “Wasn’t she here earlier?” Jie asked.

  “Haven’t seen her recently.” The vendor shook his head.

  Jie sucked on her lower lip. Lilian had never even made it here. Maybe the conspirators had captured her.

  “Huh?” One of the men turned away from his companion to look at the vendor.

  “Didn’t you ask about Ju Lilian?”

  “Who’s that?”

  “The Corsage of the Chrysanthemum Pavilion,” the vendor said. “Didn’t you just mention her?”

  The men exchanged glances, and with a coordinated snort, got up and left.

  Something didn’t add up, but there was still one shot in the dark. Or four shots in a shaded alley. Looking left and right to gauge interest in the stand, she went around to the front. “Excuse me.”

  The vendor looked up. “What would you like to order?”

  Jie bowed, shaking her head when she straightened. “I’m looking for a Hummingbird.”

  His eyes roved over her. “Aren’t you the Chrysanthemum Pavilion’s half-elf?”

  “Yes.” She covered her mouth with a hand, an admittedly clunky gesture compared to other Blossoms. “I was supposed to meet a man with a Repeater here.”

  His brow furrowed. “A crossbow?”

  She nodded.

  “I have a regular who sometimes carries a crossbow around. He was here earlier with three, four friends. In fact, they were taking a repeating crossbow apart.”

  A standard military Repeater. Craftsmen specialized in making the individual components, while trained assemblers mass-produced them. Why would—Jie’s blood ran colder than ice. “What were they wearing?”

  “Crimson robes. Looked to be guards for a noble house.”

  “Did one have a scar?” Jie ran a finger across her forehead.

  “Is that your Humm—”

  Jie turned and raced back toward the Chrysanthemum Pavilion. It all made sense now. In the Peony Garden last night, the Artist wasn’t framing a picture of desperate men, he was lining up a target. With the two houses being near-exact replicas, that target could be no other than Lord Ting, who would be sitting in his favorite corner right now. His own men had smuggled the Repea
ter parts past the house guards, where one would reassemble it inside. But why?

  She skidded to a halt as the House guards stopped her at the gates, holding a light up to her face.

  “Little Jie,” one said. “The Gardener is looking all over for you. How did you get out?”

  Pushing past them, she shed the gown as she bolted across the courtyard. She threw open the doors and ran into the common room.

  Lord Ting sat in his favorite corner, sipping from a cup, a frown plastered to his face. “They said she had a surprise for me, but I’ve been waiting for an hour. Where is she?”

  Standing at his side with a decanter of rice wine in hand, the Florist bowed low. “My apologies, my Lord.”

  Up and to the left, the head of a repeating crossbow peeked out from the shadows of the mezzanine.

  “Get down!” Jie yelled, sprinting between tables and chairs.

  Lord Ting turned to her, eyes wide. The Florist gawked, but stood transfixed. Four of his men flashed crimson in her peripheral vision, converging on her. One had a large scar on his forehead.

  The crossbow clicked in rapid succession.

  To Jie’s eye, the two bolts flew in slow motion toward Lord Ting and the Florist, yet she ran even slower. She could only save one. A kind but stern mother figure? Or a loyal lord, who was instrumental to maintaining peace in the unsettled North?

  A few feet away, one of his men reached out to grab Jie, but she turned to the side, just avoiding him. She leaped with an outstretched hand…

  …and swiped the bolt out of the air.

  The Florist’s screams ceased, replaced by a gurgle.

  Jie sprawled across the table, sliding face-first over and though succulent food, smashing porcelain dishes. With a slap of her hands, she popped herself into a flip and landed in a crouch between Lord Ting and the crossbowman. Any second now, more bolts would fly.

  None came.

  Jie’s eyes blurred, and her balance swayed. A heady scent attacked her nose—deer musk, a key component of a clan contact toxin used on females—clung to the crossbow bolt in her hand. Meaning Lilian had been right about a traitor and Jie’s blind spot. Whoever it was had even surmised Jie would catch the bolt.

  But who? The Florist’s ragged, dying breaths made it impossible to concentrate. Through the darkness encroaching on her vision, Jie squinted toward the balcony. A female form appeared at the edge of the shadows with the crossbow.

  Little Wen? It was hard to see, but it made logical sense. She must’ve helped capture Lilian, then drawn Jie away so they could assassinate Lord Ting.

  The crossbow clicked again, the sound echoing behind her. A bolt flew.

  Jie swept a hand out.

  It zipped past her.

  Lord Ting grunted and slumped forward

  Jie collapsed back onto the table as all went black.

  Chapter 11

  The scent of ammonia assaulted Jie’s senses, jolting her awake. Her head felt as if a dwarf had forged an axe on it. She was sitting in a chair, hands behind her back on either side of the chair’s spindle. She went to stand, but rope bit into her wrists. Cord bound her feet together. She blinked several times to clear her vision, and the blurriness crystalized into focus.

  Lord Ting sat slumped over in a chair by her side, with a crossbow bolt protruding from his back and a line of blood drying on the side of his mouth. Florist Wei, too, sat dead in another chair, head lolled to the left, unseeing gaze seemingly locked on Jie. One of Lord Ting’s traitorous guards leered at her, eyes hungry, but then joined the others in walking to and from the kitchens, carrying crates of clinking bottles and setting them near the hearth. Another stacked bedding and linens near the main entrance. The scent of sesame-ginger mingled in with the coppery tang of blood.

  Little Wen had made a mistake: she’d left Jie alive, with her feet bound but not immobilized. Once she escaped, she’d bring the wrath of the clan down on her. “Wen! What did you do with Lilian?”

  A melodious laugh broke out behind her. “Nothing.”

  Jie’s blood ran cold as she twisted to look over her shoulder. No, it couldn’t be.

  “Not Little Wen. She worships the ground you walk on.” Lilian sashayed around to the front. Her loose, baggy pants allowed her to easily straddle Jie. Sighing, she cupped her cheek. “I told you you had a blind spot.”

  No, no, no. Tears flew as Jie shook her head. “Why? Why did you do this?”

  “I told you,” Lilian said. “I wanted out of this life. I’d held out hope that you’d be able to convince Master Yan to reassign me, but here’s the truth: I played the Little Sister you adored for too long, and the clan thinks—thought— all I’m good for is sating Lord Ting’s desires.”

  Jie’s fault. All Jie’s fault. “I can convince Master Yan. I swear.”

  Lilian shook her head. “This was my last chance to get out.”

  “The clan will hunt you down,” Jie said, not with malice, but with an affection she couldn’t deny, despite the betrayal.

  “Not if they think I am dead.” She gestured to a body near the hearth.

  The man who’d posed as a drunkard. Jie gasped. “You stored him in that cellar. That’s where the stench came from. You used a ruse, thinking I would kill him when he attacked.”

  “No. You were always a threat to the plan, and I’d originally planned on removing you altogether.” With a sigh, she looked up at one of the men, whose gait marked him as Masked Crossbowman. “I couldn’t bring myself to do it, and trusted your blind spot.”

  “She already killed one of your comrades,” Jie yelled to Masked Crossbowman, hoping to drive a wedge between them. “What’s to keep her from sacrificing you next?”

  Masked Crossbowman paused, the bottles in his crate clinking. “Lin ran his mouth too much. We were going to kill him anyway. Less ways to split the reward.”

  Reward. Someone had ordered the hit on Lord Ting, enough for his men to turn on him. Jie turned back to Lilian. “How did you even get the body here?”

  Lilian gestured toward the other men. “With help, of course, while you were warning the other girls.”

  “You never went to the safehouse to warn the clan.”

  “No. I needed the clan not to get further involved.”

  So all the failings were Jie’s. She’d trusted Lilian implicitly. Now, she looked at the crates the men were stacking near the hearth. “The White Lightning and firecrackers. You are going to set the house on fire.”

  “Inspired by the training accident twenty years ago.” There was no satisfaction in Lilian’s voice, only sorrow. “I made sure all the girls and staff would be gone, and the distance from the mansion to the courtyard will keep the flames from spreading to the rest of the Floating World. The Gardener even agreed to douse the compound walls because I said they were too dirty for Lord Ting’s visit.”

  She’d tried to minimize collateral damage; Lilian wasn’t totally ruthless. Maybe there was still hope to turn her away from this path. Jie tilted her head toward the Florist. “What about her?”

  Lilian shook her head. “An unfortunate casualty, but her body is more likely to be mistaken for mine than the other one.”

  Jie clenched her teeth. Anger welled inside her.

  “I was worried you might figure it all out when the Gardener confined you to that specific storehouse.”

  “I was too busy crying over what that man did to me. Did you plan that, too?”

  “No!” Lilian’s eyes widened. “Of course not. I never wanted you going to the Peony Garden at all, because then you’d find out they had nothing to do with Masked Crossbowman. I even told the Gardener to keep a guard at the door and below the window, and used a dwarf lock, which you somehow picked.”

  The lock which hadn’t been there when Lilian had left the house hours ago. Jie had overlooked it then, even though it was glaringly obvious now.

  “I never imagined they would do that to you. Before I leave the Floating World forever, I will poison the Peony Gar
den’s Gardener, ruin Lusha’s face, and castrate your rapist.”

  Jie’s chest swelled at the ferociousness in Lilian’s voice. Conflicting emotions tore at her. Here was someone who loved her, but had also considered killing her. Who’d tried to arrange a hit on her, but then backed out. She shook her head. “Your plan was worthy of the Architect, except that you left me alive.”

  Lilian brushed her cheek, the softness of her curves and her honeysuckle scent intoxicating. She leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Don’t you see? I never even wanted you here. When I left earlier, it was to trick Wen into getting you as far away as possible.”

  “So I wouldn’t foil your assassination?”

  “So I wouldn’t have to make you choose between me and the clan.”

  “But you knew I’d come back. The crossbow bolt was meant for me to catch.”

  Lilian nodded. “A good plan always takes into account unlikely factors. Like this one. Join me. We can start our own clan. A sisterhood. The ones who contracted me to kill Lord Ting will pay well for our skills. Please.”

  “I can’t just betray the clan that adopted me.”

  “You have thirty seconds to decide.” Lilian squeezed tight. “Please.”

  “Are you sure this is what you want to do? No one will ever have to know you were involved in this plot.”

  Lilian shook her head violently. “Then I’ll just be spreading my legs at some other House.”

  “I understand.” Jie brought her heels up to the edge of the seat, sliding Lilian closer into her lap. Jie leaned into her.

  The tension in Lilian’s shoulders relaxed, and her smile looked so genuinely relieved.

  Jie kicked back against the table. The force sent the chair tipping back. She thrust her legs to increase her speed, and yanked on her wrists as they crashed. The chair splintered under their weight, and Jie’s hands, while still bound, broke free from the remnants of the chair. She continued her backward roll, ending up on her tied feet, between Lilian’s shins where she lay prone.

  Turning onto her side, Lilian scissored her legs at the front of Jie’s ankles and the back of her knees, but Jie leapt, drawing her knees to her chest and swinging her bound arms under her and to the front. Her feet hit the ground just as Lilian windmilled her legs up and flipped over into a crouch, one fist to the ground.