by J C Kang
Meanwhile, news out of the Trench was that the Red Dragons and Fangs, with no new yue on the way, were about to turn the area into a war zone. Tian let out a sigh.
Jie turned to him. “What?”
He tapped his chin. “Will the Emperor send troops to keep the peace in the Trench?”
“Only if tax revenues from the local magistrate’s office decline significantly.”
All the ideals Tian had had about a moral emperor ruling with the Mandate of Heaven were now evaporating. It was all about money.
Wen patted him on the head, while Yuna scoffed.
Jie’s ears twitched, and Cleaner Qin entered with a salute.
“I’m here for the urn for the Steel Orchid,” he said. “I am returning it, along with the ashes of Gardener Ju, to the Temple for burial.”
“Do you still need it?” Jie asked Tian.
Shaking his head, he pointed to it.
Cleaner Qin picked it up. When he straightened, he reached into the folds of his robe and handed Jie a folded missive and a white sphere. About the size of a giant walnut, it was twenty-seven percent larger than the common light baubles.
“What is it?” Jie held it up to the light, revealing a brown circle.
That shade… Tian gasped. “That was Gardener Ju’s eye.”
Jie turned it over as she studied it. “A fake eye? How could she have possibly dodged my throwing stars without depth perception?”
“Or shot Lord Ting,” Yuna said, craning in to examine it.
“It’s masterfully done.” Wen tilted her head as she looked. “Only Estomari glassmakers have this kind of skill.”
Tian tapped his chin. Inhabiting the continent’s east, Estomari were famed for their craftsmen, as well as their ability to Divine the future.
“There are tiny letters.” Jie squinted at the glass eye. “It’s too squiggly. The maker’s signature, maybe?”
Wen pointed her pretty chin at the missive Qin had brought. “What does it say?”
Jie’s fingers danced as they unfolded the message. Like before, it might as well have been gibberish, but all the girls’ eyes roved over it.
Shoulders slumping, Wen pouted.
“What does it say,” he asked.
“The clan bought the Peony Garden,” Jie said. “After the death of two Gardeners in less than a week, the value dropped. They are making Wen the new cell leader of the Floating World.”
Was that why she was pouting? Tian looked to Wen. “Isn’t this good?”
“There’s more,” Wen said.
“I am being reassigned,” Jie said. “I’ll be teaching the younger initiates at the temple. I have four days to turn cell operations over to Wen before I take you there.”
Four days! Tian shuddered. Going new places always made him sick to his stomach. He’d leave the capital for good, going farther and farther away from Princess Kaiya.
Jie gave him a wry smile. “But first, we are going to go into the Trench. If a Steel Orchid was a double for Faceless Chang, then he probably knows about the clan.”
THE END
If you have enjoyed these two novellas in the Scions of the Black Lotus series, I invite you to participate in a poll about whether you would rather read more about Jie’s childhood training, or Tian’s training later. I’m always happy if you drop me a line and even happier if you leave a Goodreads or Amazon review.
Preview of Wretches of the Trench, Part 3 of Scions of the Black Lotus.
Chapter 1
While nobody else remembered anything from before age three, eight-year old Feng Yuna had vivid memories of Mama selling her. She’d berated Yuna for being a stupid, useless girl, before ultimately surrendering her for four copper fen. There’d been no contract, like with girls indentured to the Floating World, and Mama had just taken the Black Lotus recruiter at his word, that he was a priest picking up orphans.
Now standing on the outskirts of the Trench, Yuna scanned the weathered wood buildings topped by equally worn tile roofs. Women in simple patched dresses sat outside doors, bouncing children on their knees, while men in dirty shirts and pants laughed as they returned home from a day’s work. Like the women, her hair now hung in a simple pony tail, and her own filthy dress matched theirs. The coarse fibers scratched, feeling so different from the weightless silk gowns she’d worn for the last season as a Seedling in the Floating World. This homecoming after six years was more likely to stir up feelings of trauma than nostalgia.
At her side, Elder Sister Yan Jie clasped her hand. She’d been there that day, posing as a half-elf orphan sent off to join the temple; but really there to test candidates for qualities that made good operatives. Now they were back, to assassinate a Triad boss who might know about their clan. Jie now tapped and brushed the clan’s coded language across the back of Yuna’s hand. How does it feel to be home?
A sadness weighed on Yuna’s shoulders. No, it couldn’t be sadness. It had to be the clothes. Still, vague recollections of suckling Mama’s breast shifted to clearer images of first steps and words, before crystalizing into the birth of twin brothers. And Mama’s doting on them. No matter how distinct the pain and memories, she didn’t recall the air reeking so bad. She answered in subtle hand gestures, It stinks.
On the other side of her, the ten-year old, chubby new recruit, Tian, studied their motions. The wrinkling of his nose made his round, dirt-smudged face look like a piglet. It’s the first thing I noticed, he signed. “Why does it smell so bad?”
He’d only joined the clan four days ago, and picked up the sign language so fast! Up to now, she’d been the most promising young clan member, so much that they considered her the second coming of The Surgeon. The stealth, spying, and fighting skills that took most ten years to learn, she’d mastered in six. She’d also gained fluency the three languages of the North. If the elders had all lauded her abilities, they’d just about worship his. Jealousy knotted in her stomach.
Dressed in a tattered dress and a headscarf that covered her tapered ears, Jie gestured from the city walls to the stone-paved gash than ran like a scar through the district. “The capital’s sewers empty into that ditch, and flow into surrounding rice fields.”
Thus, the name, the Trench.
If Tian’s face had resembled a piglet’s a moment ago, it now looked like an opera mask of the Surprised Sidekick. “You mean poop is mixed in with the rice?”
“Circle of life.” Yuna snorted. As the son of a lord, he’d lived a life of clueless luxury up until his recent banishment. “You eat the rice, it comes out as shit. Then the shit becomes rice.”
Tian’s mouth rounded so wide, it would have no problem accommodating an oiled jade pleasure ball. The thought was tempting to put into action.
“Come on.” Jie started into the street. A half-elf with an exceptional sense of smell, it was a wonder she hadn’t fainted from the overwhelming stench.
Tian froze. “Shouldn’t we wait? The Blue Reaper starts to strike around dusk.”
Yuna gave a bored shrug. Rumored to wear a dark hat and face scarf, the Blue Reaper had been terrorizing girls in the Trench for the last few months. Still, a simple serial killer wouldn’t stand a chance against two Black Lotus members, even with Tian getting in the way.
“There’s not enough time.” Jie looked up to the Iridescent Moon, now waxing to its fifth crescent in its reliable seat in the heavens. “We only have three hours until we meet our informant.”
Yuna followed, with Tian on her heels. Her ears perked up.
Up ahead, a dozen filthy laborers hopped out from an oxcart marked with the words Zhang’s Quarry in faded paint. Two of the men approached, heedless of the three children in front of them, speaking in Nothori.
The first man clapped the second on the back. “I made enough money for a yue ball.” He was just a few steps away, so engaged in conversation that the coin pouch stuffed in his sash would be easy pickings.
Edging her way past Tian, Yuna prepared to swipe the purse. Better that she
have it, than the Triads selling yue.
“Don’t you need the coin for your wife and little kid?” the second asked.
The first blew out a sigh. “You’re right. Maybe I should wait until yue prices fall.”
“Or just stop smoking that shit before you need to sell another daughter to the Red Dragons.”
Fury and sadness twisted in Yuna’s gut. She let them walk by without taking the addict’s purse. Little did he know prices would keep rising, since the Imperial Court had raided the illegal suppliers up North. In the coming weeks, the addicts going through withdrawal would turn the Trench upside down. For now, though, the man’s family would eat.
Tian and Jie came up on either side of her, and he beamed as he hefted the coin pouch. I did it, he signed.
Shaking her head, she gaped at him. His family will starve.
“You can speak their language?” If one pleasure ball could’ve fit in his mouth with lubricant before, a dry one would now. “I didn’t know. I’ll return it.” He started back.
“Pickpockets, are you?” a male voice called.
Yuna, Tian, and Jie all turned to the source.
Two wiry men in clean black tunics sauntered over as if they owned half the Trench. They probably did, since the imperial court didn’t’ care what happened here, and these men’s clothes marked them as members of the Fangs.
Triads. Tian gulped.
“I don’t recognize you.” The larger’s eyes roved over them, a feral grin forming on his face.
Yuna started for her bladed hairpin, but Jie stayed her hand.
The half-elf bowed. “We’re new here.”
The smaller, who was still larger than the three of them combined, laughed. He nudged the first. “Then we’ll have to forgive them this one time for not following the rules.”
“Rules?” Jie asked.
“Half of your hard-earned wealth goes to the Fangs.” The larger extended his hand.
“I was going to give it back,” Tian said, gesturing toward the still-chattering foreigners. Whether it was naiveté, or with skills worthy of a famous actor— no, it was Tian.
Definitely naiveté. Yuna rolled her eyes.
“Sure you were.” The larger laughed. “And my Pa has tits.”
“Really?” Tian’s face scrunched up. “Maybe he drinks too much wine.”
It would’ve been a great insult, if it hadn’t been delivered with clueless sincerity. The two Triads exchanged confused glances.
“Are you insulting my Pa?” The big man loomed closer, hands clenching into fists.
Head cocked, Tian threw up his hands. “Didn’t you just insult him?”
The man swung. He’d probably decked many a drunk with the sloppy haymaker, but Jie pulled Tian out of the way.
Yuna pushed forward and bowed low. “I’m sorry, sir. My brother isn’t the sharpest blade in the armory.” She proffered the purse, which she’d swept from Tian’s grasp.
Harrumphing, the man snatched it. “Since you made fun of my Pa, I’m keeping all of it this time.”
With the audacity of a lord, the second took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and studied her. “You know, two pretty girls like you, I can give you a job that will make more than picking the pockets of these pathetic foreigners. The boy’s pretty enough, I could probably find a job for him, too.”
Maintaining outer calm, Yuna seethed inside. In the Floating World, a girl would never lie with a man until she blossomed with Heaven’s Dew. Apparently, such rules didn’t apply in the Trench, and the idea that an eight-year-old, or even younger, might be used by a depraved…
Jie tugged Yuna back and bowed. “I’m sorry, kind sirs. We’re just learning about the area.”
The two men leaned and exchanged whispers.
The larger chuffed. “As long as you’re on this side of the Trench, you belong to the Fangs. Don’t cross to the other side.”
Fangs on this side, Red Dragons—and the boss they needed to kill—on the other. Yuna shot a knowing look at Jie.
“Where are you staying?” the smaller asked.
“With an uncle.” Jie bowed again.
“Well, if it gets too crowded in his house, we can find you lodgings and work. Go to our Tang, and ask for Big Brother Tu, and tell them Zeng sent you.” Leering, the smaller pointed at a white stone tower with rust-colored tiles in the distance, rising above the hovels. It looked like the other troop garrisons surrounding the city, but was apparently now home to Triads.
If the limited information the clan had gathered was correct, the aforementioned Big Brother Tu was one of Boss Yang’s lieutenants. Yuna exchanged a glance with Jie.
The half-elf pulled her and Tian back, bowing to the men. “Thank you for your kind offer.”
“And if any of the Pale Faces give you trouble, be sure to let us know.” The smaller one cracked his knuckles before the two pushed past them and continued on their way.
Once they’d passed, Tian hefted the purse in his hand.
Grinning, Jie plucked in from his palm. She surreptitiously passed it to Yuna and motioned to the two foreign laborers in the distance. “Go return it. Tell the man he dropped it. Our new friends plan on following us, so lose your tail and meet across the trench at the magistrate’s office.”
Where they’d meet an informant who could arrange a meeting with Faceless Chang. He’d taken over the Red Dragons in a bloody coup six years before, possibly helped by a Black Lotus Clan traitor known as the Steel Orchid—who was so ruthless, she’d let her own twin sister die. Face scarred in that power struggle, Faceless Chang now wore the mask of Yanluo, lord of Hell. Since he probably knew about the clan, he’d have to die.
Yuna scanned the surroundings, and found the smaller of the Fangs peeking at them around the corner of a hovel. Squirreling away the purse, she took off after the two foreigners. She’d slip the purse back onto him.
The weight and feel of it indicated four copper fen.
Four coppers. To Mama, that’s all she was worth.
Up ahead, the two laborers parted, one continuing and the yue addict turning down an alley between the ramshackle rowhouses. Yuna hurried to catch up. At the head of the alley, she froze.
“Andris Dukurs of Lietuvi?” spoke a slithery male voice in the Nothori tongue.
“Yes?” the yue addict said.
Clothes ruffled. Steel rasped, the short sound indicating a dagger being drawn. A smothered cry broke out, followed by gurgling.
Yuna covered her mouth. One of the men had just attacked the other. She listened.
Whoever had been stabbed now gasped in labored breaths, and heavy footsteps hurried deeper into the alley.
Taking a deep breath, she peeked around the corner.
Not far in, the yue addict was curled up, his lifeblood soaking into the ground. A cloaked figure wearing a brimmed hat in the style of the North neared the far end of the alley. He turned around, revealing a kerchief-covered nose and mouth. Though the rest of his face was shaded by his hat, a pair of white eyes found Yuna.
She ducked back, palming a throwing pin from her hair in one hand and drawing a knife from a forearm strap with the other. It fit the description of the Blue Reaper, but didn’t he only target girls? Why would he attack Andris Dukurs?
Wretches of the Trench, available August 2019.
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Acknowledgements
First, I would like to thank my wife and family for the patience they have afforded me as I pursued my childhood dream of fiction writing.
A huge thanks to my sister Laura for her spectacular job with the maps.
And finally, an even huger thanks to the readers of The Dragon Songs Saga who contacted me, wanting to know more about Tian. You are the reason this book happened. Frances Phelps, Samantha Mikals, Brittany Timmins, Lana Turner, Ann Loshuk, and Ticiana Marques deserve special mention.
About the Author
JC Kang's unhealthy obsession with Fantasy and Sci-Fi began at an early age when his brother introduced him to The Chronicles of Narnia, Star Trek, and Star Wars. As an adult, he combines his geek roots with his professional experiences as a Chinese Medicine doctor, martial arts instructor, and technical writer to pen epic fantasy stories.
