by Kylie Chan
She hesitated, then shrugged. ‘Okay. I’ll come back on the weekend.’
‘How’s the swimming going?’
‘I’m second best on the team,’ she said proudly. ‘We have a meet in two weeks.’
‘Book me in,’ I said.
‘Already did.’ She came around the table, put her hand on the back of my neck and kissed the top of my head. ‘See you on the weekend, Emma.’
‘I’ll call you later,’ I said.
After she’d gone, I took myself over to the palace’s administrative centre. The Serpent Concubine Pavilion was on the western side of the palace complex, with only the servants’ quarters and the support areas—the laundry and kitchens—further north of it. There had only ever been one Serpent Concubine in the entire history of the palace, and nobody would say much about her. John had never bothered to have the Serpent Pavilion returned to a human-style dwelling, and nobody had spoken much about his reasons for that either. The servants wouldn’t even tell me whether the Serpent Concubine had died or had left him; they all suggested that I contact the Archivist for the full story.
The palace was divided into two rectangular areas: the residential section took up the northern half; the administrative section, the southern half. A four-metre internal wall with a single gate separated them, entirely blocking off one side from the other. Tradition called for the Emperor and his most senior advisors—and consorts—to be carried around the complex in sedan chairs, but John had never bothered with that, preferring to walk through the complex so he could check the status of the different areas as he passed. He was a very early—by a few hundred years—practitioner of ‘management by walking around’. In more recent times, apparently, he’d taken to riding a motorbike around the complex, occasionally doing outrageous jumps over some of the decorative semicircular bridges in the gardens. The resulting skid marks on the pristine white marble had caused the domestic demons much grief.
John’s welcome in the various sections of the palace would have been very different from mine. As my three-metre-long snake form slithered through the gardens, the demons either froze with terror or skittered away. I’d gone through all the support sections the first time I’d visited the palace, greeting the demons and trying to allay their fears, but to no avail. Maybe their reaction had something to do with the Serpent Concubine; they might have had bad experiences with snakes in the past. Or maybe it was just that I brought back nasty memories of the Snake Mothers in Hell. Then again, maybe it was just because I was a snake.
I reached the wall that divided the residential and administrative areas. The gate building was set on top of three terraces, each bordered with black marble balustrades. The building itself was around ten metres to a side, built of gunmetal-coloured stone with a traditional upward-curving, black-tiled roof. It had thick hardwood doors on both sides reinforced with metre-wide black metal studs. I slithered up the three flights of stairs and found the reception area empty, except for four humanoid demon guards at the gate’s two doors. They stood to attention as I passed and thumped their chests with their fists, but their expressions weren’t happy.
The administrative section of the palace was much more open and formal. The main buildings sat on three-tiered terraces in the centre of the rectangular area, while smaller buildings—for the support staff—flanked the sides. At the far end of the dividing wall was another gatehouse: the main entry into the palace. The long avenue up to the palace was visible through the gate’s open doors.
A group of officials were waiting for me with a sedan chair, all of them on one knee. I nodded to them and swiftly slithered around them to avoid the chair. They jumped up and followed me, then stopped and saluted again when Martin appeared on the top balcony of the central administrative building. He waved to me and came down the steps.
‘Rise,’ he said to the officials as he came closer, and they all rose and bowed again. He waved them away. ‘I will guide Lady Emma to the hearings.’
I accompanied him up the stairs.
‘The petitions should only take a couple of days,’ he said. ‘Since the energy has returned to the North, the residents have had much less to complain about and the petitions have dried up.’
‘That’s wonderful news,’ I said.
We entered the Pavilion of Dark Justice together, and all those present fell to one knee. The pavilion was rectangular and made of gunmetal-coloured polished stone with a black roof, same as the other buildings. The doors to the hearing room opened in front of us; inside, officials sat behind desks and gathered the information required for the day’s proceedings. The petitioners would wait their turn in luxuriously appointed waiting rooms along the sides of the pavilion, with demon servants shuttling backwards and forwards to tend to their needs.
Lily, one of the court administrators, rose from her desk and walked to the doorway. ‘All salute Regent General Da Na Huo and Tai Zi Ming Gui, the Bright One.’
The staff fell to one knee and saluted us.
‘Rise,’ I said. ‘Return to your duties.’
They returned to what they’d been doing without any fuss.
‘They finally got it,’ I said with relief.
‘Well, some of them have worked for more traditional Shen,’ Martin said as we entered the hearing room and climbed the dais to the throne. ‘An order like that could be a trick to see if they were truly showing respect.’
‘Sounds stupid to me,’ I grumbled under my breath as I pulled myself up onto the black silk cushions. ‘Okay, what have we got?’
Lily approached with a document printed from one of the computers in the office. ‘Not many changes to the list I emailed you last week. Three disputes on the ownership of demon servants, as in the email. One new case, not previously mentioned: about the parentage of a particularly fine colt that was born over at the House of Ling only yesterday—’
‘The mare dropped?’ I cut in. ‘I must go have a look.’
‘It’s palomino, Emma,’ Martin said.
I hissed with amusement. ‘Somebody’s stallion’s been sneaking around! No way could that mating produce a palomino.’
Lily winced. ‘There is some suggestion that the colt was fathered by a horse demon.’
‘Do we have horse demons here?’ I said.
Both of them nodded.
‘You have a list, right?’ I said.
Lily nodded again. ‘On my desk, ma’am. There are three or four possible fathers.’
‘The owner of the mare is petitioning…for what?’ I said. ‘We just do a DNA test, establish the father, slap a fine on the owner of the demon stallion for failing to control the animal, end of story.’
‘The owner of the mare is petitioning that the owner of the stallion be reprimanded for not controlling his demons. She says the mare has been ruined by carrying a demon foal and she wants a very large sum in compensation.’
‘I see. When’s the hearing on that?’
‘It’s one of the last—I knew you’d want to see the files first,’ Lily said. ‘You must order the DNA test and then decide on how much to fine the owner of the stallion.’
‘It’s possible the owner of the sire may claim the colt as well,’ Martin said.
‘As soon as you provide me with all the details, and we establish the colt’s parentage, we’ll take it from there,’ I said. ‘What else?’
‘One other petition delivered just yesterday—Sang Shen—’
I hissed with frustration. ‘Sometimes I almost wish he had been executed!’
‘Sang Shen has raised the price of the leaves from his mulberry tree exponentially,’ Lily said. ‘The Blue Dragon has requested a mediation to discuss renegotiating the contract for provision of the leaves.’
‘He’s a tree, they’re his leaves, he can set the price. Tell the Dragon to get lost,’ I said.
‘He’s charging ten times the weight of the leaves in Celestial Jade.’
That stopped me. ‘That’s insane!’
‘The worst pa
rt is that the Dragon is prepared to pay something close to this, but he wants to squeal about it first.’
‘This is a bad precedent. Other leaf suppliers will raise their prices to match Sang Shen’s, and the rise in costs will drive up the price of silk,’ I said, lowering my head to think. I looked up at them. ‘Ensure that this is a completely closed court; this is an extremely private matter between Sang Shen and the Blue Dragon. Nobody must know that the Dragon’s silkworms eat the leaves from Sang Shen’s tree.’
‘I think part of this lawsuit is Sang Shen trying to make it known that he is the provider of the leaves,’ Martin said.
‘That sounds like him,’ I said. ‘He vowed to the Dragon that he wouldn’t reveal himself as the source of the leaves, but he’s been dropping heavy hints in the public domain ever since. He’s followed the letter of the agreement but definitely not the spirit.’
‘You could reprimand him for that and order him to fix the price of his leaves,’ Lily said.
‘That would not be fair to either of them. I must hear this in secret, and emerge with a judgement that’s fair to both of them.’
‘What if neither of them agrees with your decision?’ Martin said.
‘If both of them are upset about the decision, then I think I’ve succeeded in mediating it fairly,’ I said.
Three days later, on the evening before the final day of hearings, I was settling down to sleep when a demon servant crept into my quarters and hesitated beside the door.
‘Don’t be afraid,’ I said gently. ‘Tell me.’
‘The Lord of the East, the Blue Dragon Qing Long, is here and requests audience, madam,’ the demon said, its voice barely above a whisper.
‘Show him into the formal salon,’ I said. After the demon had gone I tapped the stone with my nose. ‘Hop back on—the Dragon wants to talk to me.’
The stone grumbled quietly as it floated its setting onto the top of my head. I twisted my head a couple of times to make sure the crown fitted comfortably, then I slithered to the salon. The audience chamber was the place where the Emperor and his concubine would formally meet and discuss any issues arising from the management of the household. I couldn’t imagine John ever using it—he wasn’t a fan of formality—and so wasn’t surprised that the furniture, which was probably at least a thousand years old, appeared as new. I slid up onto the black and silver silk cushions of the throne, which was two metres long and intricately carved with serpents.
The Dragon was escorted in by the demon; he fell to one knee in front of me, saluting. ‘This humble servant greets his master,’ he said, then rose again.
I bowed my head. ‘You are welcome, my Lord. Please, sit and drink tea with me.’
A stool that looked very much like a piano stool was brought for the Dragon, and a small table with tea was placed in front of him. The demons were so quiet and smooth in their movements it was as if the furniture arrived by itself.
I stretched out on the soft cushions, enjoying the sensation on my serpent belly. ‘What can I do for you?’
The Dragon raised his teacup. ‘Finest Celestial tea I’ve had in a long while, ma’am.’ He sat slightly straighter. ‘I know you don’t like wasting time on formal protocol, so I’ll get straight to the point. I hear that you are living in this pavilion designed for a concubine rather than in the Empress’s Pavilion as is fitting.’
‘The architect estimates a cost of ten jin of jade to make the necessary alterations to the Dark Bliss Pavilion. I’m just as comfortable staying here, so we won’t be making the changes,’ I said.
He nodded, unsurprised. ‘That is a great deal of money, ma’am. But if you extended the Pavilion of Dark Bliss, the fung shui aspects would be perfectly aligned. As well as that, you would have more room for your clothes, your make-up, all your feminine necessities—’
I cut him off. ‘Snakes don’t need clothes or make-up. Where is this going?’
‘One day you will be able to take human form here, ma’am, I’m sure of it. If you were to extend Dark Bliss as they have suggested, it would not only improve the harmonious resonance of the building, it would provide you with more space for all your needs.’
‘I fail to see where this is heading, Dragon.’
‘I would hate to see a beautiful lady such as yourself unable to make herself as attractive as she possibly can for the return of her lover. I would like to help.’
‘You want to help? How?’
‘How about I pay for the additions to the pavilion? It would be my pleasure, ma’am. I know that the Northern coffers have been drained by the recent difficulties, while the East remains strong. Let me do this thing for you.’
I hesitated a moment, studying him, then said, ‘And what do you want in return?’
‘Well, I will have more of a budget for the renovation if I do not have to pay such ridiculously exorbitant prices for the leaves for my silk factories.’
I stared at him, stunned.
He shrugged and smiled slightly. ‘You are a beautiful woman, Lady Emma. It is such a shame that you do not have the space to allow you to enhance your appearance to the utmost—for your Lord, of course. With the space for proper baths and personal care staff here, you would always look your best. I can provide you with clothing assistants, make-up artists and hair designers. You will want for nothing.’
I opened my mouth then closed it again.
‘So, would you like me to pay for the alterations?’ the Dragon said, his face full of hope.
‘I tell you what,’ I said, ‘I will take your offer into consideration when I am hearing the case tomorrow.’
He bowed his head again. ‘That is all I can ask for: some small amount of consideration for the care I am taking of you.’
‘Yes, I’ll be absolutely damn sure to remember that you tried to bribe me to give you a sympathetic outcome,’ I said with force. ‘I’ve half a mind to find in the tree’s favour without even having a hearing. In fact, I should double whatever price he’s asking for his leaves.’ I moved my head and the first metre or so of my body closer to the Dragon’s face. ‘You insult me by attempting to corrupt me. Is this the way you do business in the East?’
The Dragon replaced his teacup. ‘This is the way I do business everywhere, because it’s the way business is done.’ He disappeared.
‘Asshole!’ I said, and slithered down off the throne and headed back to my sleeping quarters.
‘You should do what you said you’d do: find in the tree’s favour tomorrow,’ the stone said.
‘No, I’m going to hear this case fairly and impartially,’ I said. ‘The fact he’s tried to bribe me doesn’t change the facts of the case, and I will hear it based on the facts rather than on how much I intensely dislike the two parties involved in it.’
‘Which one do you hate more?’ the stone said.
I slid into my sleeping pit. ‘If I had a choice of which one I’d hang upside down over a scorpion pit, I’d choose both of them.’
‘Would you like me to order you a scorpion pit? I can get one about three metres across, filled with the most enormous, highly venomous scorpions you ever saw. Hours of fun for the whole family.’
‘You’re worse than they are,’ I said, and stretched out to sleep on the cushions.
CHAPTER 5
The next morning I entered the court for the final day of hearings. The guards fell to one knee and saluted me, then rose and held their swords in front of them. I nodded to Lily and Martin, slithered up the dais and onto the chair behind the desk. A demon servant took up position next to me, ready to turn the pages of the documents, saving me the embarrassment of having to turn them with my mouth.
‘First case today,’ I said, ‘the horse one; about time we had something interesting. Bring the case of Ling versus Toi.’
Ling and Toi entered the room and kneeled before me; they were both dragons in human form.
‘Up you get,’ I said, and they rose, their expressions suspicious at my informal tone. ‘I’d
like to hear from your own mouth, Mr Toi, exactly what the hell you were thinking when you did this.’
Toi, a slender, elderly gentleman in a black silk robe, was the owner of the demon stallion. He bowed his head slightly to speak. ‘This was an accident, Lady Regent. The stallion concerned broke from its restraints in the middle of the night and went to Honoured Miss Ling’s residence under its own volition, probably drawn by the scent of her fine mare in heat.’
‘You had the stallion restrained?’ I said.
‘It was in a high-walled stall, but it managed to escape,’ Toi said. ‘I do not understand how such a thing could have happened, ma’am. I provide the best accommodation for my beasts. This will never happen again.’
I turned to the woman, who also wore a black silk robe, probably dressed down to show her distress. ‘Miss Ling, you claim that the mare is ruined and request compensation of ten jin of Celestial Jade. Has the mare been injured by bearing the foal and cannot bear any more for you?’
‘She has been contaminated by the demon essence of the stallion,’ Ling said, her jaw clenched with anger. ‘This foal is half-demon and an abomination. I will never be able to sell another foal from the mare, as any future foal will be tainted by the fact that the mare has been covered by a demon. The mare is worthless.’
‘I have investigated this claim—something along the lines of a Celestial urban myth—that once a female animal has been impregnated by a demon, the demonic essence remains.’ I nodded to the demon secretary and she pulled out the folder containing the DNA samples. ‘I have scientific evidence that this is not true: the mare’s future offspring will not be contaminated in any way.’
Toi gave Miss Ling a triumphant look.
‘That’s as it may be, ma’am,’ Ling said, ‘but everybody still believes it, and my mare’s foals will no longer be as prized—or as valuable—as they once were.’
‘Madam,’ Toi said, ‘please, go to the stables and view the colt. It is exceptional. I do not dispute that it is the progeny of my stallion, but I do dispute that the foal is an abomination. The mother is quite capable of bearing many more fine foals, both pure animal and half-demon.’
