City of a Thousand Dolls

by Miriam Forster

  “Ah, yes. That would be … Lilamayi?” Nisha nodded. “I’ll see if I can give her some encouragement before she goes in.” She looked hard at Nisha. “You seem uncomfortable.”

  Nisha shrugged. “The eavesdropping bothers me. It’s like I’m stealing something from them and they don’t even know it.”

  Matron let out a sigh. “I understand. That’s never been your favorite part. But what you do is important, you know that.”

  Nisha knew. Many times she had been able to spot an unhappy novice before she went too far in her training. In each case, once Matron knew about it, the girl could be sent to another House or her training would be adjusted to suit her personality and her strengths.

  Before Nisha had come to the City, other girls had tried to run away. In one infamous case, a girl even committed suicide. But no one had run away or killed herself since Nisha had become Matron’s eyes and ears, and Nisha felt good about that, even if she hated how she had to do it.

  Suddenly Atiy’s glassy stare intruded into Nisha’s thoughts. She pushed it away, shuddering. She could not have helped Atiy. Atiy had been isolated from everyone, with no one to know of her unhappiness, apart from Camini and any other trainer working with her. If she really had killed herself, it was their fault.

  “Have you found anyone to endorse you?” Matron’s soft question interrupted Nisha’s thoughts. “The Council meeting is this afternoon.” Matron’s eyes were on the kitchen staff and her words were was casual, but Nisha could hear an undertone of worry in her voice.

  “Not yet,” she murmured back.

  Matron didn’t look at her. “Have I ever told you that there’s a school for older orphan girls in the capital? They teach basic trade skills. All the girls there are destined for a lower caste, but they’re able to earn a living. And you have lots of skills already, Nisha, that would serve you well in the capital.”

  “That’s … interesting,” Nisha said carefully.

  Matron turned away. “I’ll leave that list in your capable hands, Nisha. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  After Matron left, Nisha sat down to warm herself by the fire. She leaned her head against the stone of the fireplace, taking comfort in the waves of heat that rolled over her. The fire snapped and sparked, the coals glowing like living jewels. Nisha closed her eyes, ignoring the bustle around her. The warm stone hearth was an island, a shelter in the midst of chaos.

  But if she ran and the school didn’t take her, what would she do then? Without a caste mark, she wouldn’t be able to work in any city or town. She would starve, or worse, be captured by slavers. If she was able to join a Wind caste caravan, she might be able to get a mark. But in order to find one, she’d have to go into the forest, and the forest terrified her. Besides, how could she leave the cats, her friends, and Devan?

  Nisha shook herself. Running away was too uncertain. She had to find someone to endorse her.

  There was a commotion, and she looked up just as Tanaya swept in. Her hair had been gathered into an intricate pile of curls on top of her head, and she was wearing a black silk asar with tiny brown owls embroidered on it.

  “Where are the jeera puffs?” she demanded. “The envoy from the High Prince will be here soon, and half the tea isn’t ready!”

  The cook gave Tanaya a hurried bow. “Forgive me, lady. I thought House Mistress Indrani said the tea wasn’t for another quarter hour.”

  Tanaya’s lips tightened. “I am telling you that the tea needs to be ready at once,” she snapped. “Now do your job.”

  “Of course, lady.” The cook ducked her head, and Nisha felt a stab of pity for her. All the free servants on the estate were Wind caste, forbidden to settle in one place without a work permit. If the woman lost her place, she would have to become a nomad, sleeping in a different inn every night, or camping in the forest until someone hired her again.

  “See that you do,” Tanaya said. Then she turned and stomped out. Concerned, Nisha left her place by the fire and followed.

  “Tanaya, what’s happening?”

  Tanaya whirled around but relaxed when she saw Nisha. “Oh, it’s you.”

  Nisha just stared at her. “Are you all right? I’ve never heard you speak to a servant like that before.”

  Tanaya chewed her bottom lip. “I’m sorry. It’s just … this is so important, and everything has to be perfect. I feel like everyone’s waiting for me to make a mistake—”

  She sighed and patted Nisha on the shoulder. “You’re right, of course. I’ll apologize to the cook later. I cannot wait for this to be over!”

  “I know.” Nisha reached up and squeezed Tanaya’s hand. “Good luck.”

  Tanaya smiled at her. “Thanks. I’ll need it.” Then she turned and walked down the hallway.

  A low mist rose as Nisha made her way down the broad stone path winding from the central gardens to the gates of the City to meet Devan. Dim, gray fog twined around her ankles like silver ribbons. Its touch was cold on her skin, reminding her that the season of Earthsleep was fast approaching. Nisha’s future would be decided by then, no matter what it was.

  She went out through the wide main gate, brushing her hand over the thick stone of the wall. She’d touched these rocks many times over the years, and every time she promised herself that someday she would climb the nearby stairs and stand at the top of the gate.

  Novices were forbidden to walk on top of the wall around the Houses, and Nisha had never dared it. But she wanted to. She wanted to see the tops of the trees, watch the leaves rattle with birds and monkeys and see the gray threads of mist weave through the forest. As much as she feared the woods, she was also drawn to them by a longing she couldn’t explain. Maybe if she saw them from above, her fear would fade.

  Once outside the wall, Nisha took a few experimental steps toward the trees. The teak forest loomed ahead of her, threatening and dark. There was a faint sound that might have been a wolf call. The thought sent a jolt of fear through Nisha, and she turned to run back to the gate.

  A twig snapped like the crack of a whip.

  Nisha froze, as still and alert as any forest deer. Slowly, she turned. A dark shadow ghosted along the line of trees, then stopped. It was just far enough inside the forest that Nisha couldn’t make it out clearly. But it was human-shaped and broad at the shoulders. As the shadow shifted, Nisha caught a flash of eyes.

  Then it moved forward, resolving into a man. His face was in shadow, but his clothes were rough and worn, and there was a red scarf tied around his neck.

  A Kildi.

  Nisha shrank back, pressing herself against the wall. Devan had mentioned Kildi in the area, but she hadn’t really believed him. There hadn’t been any Kildi camped near the City of a Thousand Dolls for years. What were they doing here now?

  The man stared at her for what felt like a long time. Then he waved and dissolved into the woods, vanishing so completely that Nisha could almost believe she had imagined him.

  Almost.

  10

  NISHA PRESSED HERSELF against the damp wall and waited. For a long time she saw nothing but the swirling threads of mist, heard nothing but the restless rustle of branches, and smelled nothing but wet leaves.

  Then her ears caught the trip of a horse’s hooves coming down the road. A graceful white mare clopped into view, and a warm anticipation loosened Nisha’s insides.

  “Devan!” she called. “Over here!”

  Devan pulled his horse up with a flourish. “I have crossed terrible wastes to give you this, my lady,” he said, brandishing a leather bag of scrolls.

  “You and your terrible wastes,” Nisha said, smiling up at Devan’s open grin. “Kamal is only a few hours away on horseback, and I’ve heard it said that the road between here and there is one of the best maintained in the Empire.”

  She reached out to rub the horse’s silken nose. Devan laughed as the mare huffed a breath of grassy air into Nisha’s face.

  “My horse is jealous of you. She wants to be the only female in
my life.”

  “Deservedly so,” Nisha said. “She’s lovely. Our last courier only had an old pony.”

  “Ah, but Yerek is not a nobleman’s son,” Devan said evenly. “He’s the son of the Emperor’s accountant, and he’ll always be just a courier.” He swung himself out of the saddle and tied the horse to a nearby tree. “No noble blood, no horse.”

  He lifted Nisha into his arms and whirled her around. “I’m so glad to see you. You wouldn’t believe the morning I had. Everything stamped triple urgent, and the Emperor in a foul mood. The Court of Lesser Princes continues to shout about Prince Sudev marrying a girl who might have blood from the lower castes, the Merchants’ Circle is complaining about trade prices, and the western farming villages sent another petition about repealing the two-child law. I’ll be glad when Sudev and Tanaya are married so things can calm down again.”

  Suddenly he kissed her, deep and sweet. The strength ran from Nisha’s knees like water. Devan pulled back and grinned at her. “That’s more like it. How do you always manage to make my day better?”

  “I do? Really?”

  “It’s true.” Devan raised one hand. “I swear on the grave of my great-aunt.”

  “Your great-aunt? What kind of oath is that?”

  “You never met my great-aunt,” Devan said.

  Nisha tickled him and he retaliated, starting a wrestling match that ended with his mouth warm and strong on hers. Their lips parted only for them to laugh.

  In these moments, Nisha thought, it was so easy to believe she loved him, so easy to think that everything would be all right.

  Half breathless, they sat against the wall, Nisha’s head on Devan’s shoulder, his arm wrapped around her.

  “How is your family?” Nisha asked hesitantly. Maybe he would tell her about Akash tar’Vey, the mysterious new head of the Council and the man who wanted to get rid of her.

  A shadow flickered across Devan’s face. He shook his head without answering.

  Nisha nestled closer and waited.

  Devan leaned his head against hers. “My father is still angry that I ever took this position. He thinks being a courier is too base a job for a tar’Vey. After all, you don’t have to be noble to do it.”

  Nisha held on even tighter to Devan. “But what do you think?” she whispered.

  “I don’t know,” he said. Real anguish ripped through his voice. “I’ve had this job only a short time, but I love it. The peace of the road, the different places I get to see, the people I’ve met, it’s so different from the Imperial Court. But my father … he’s worried that my acceptance of this ‘low’ job could reflect badly on our family.” Devan scowled. “I’m the personal courier to the Emperor himself. Why can’t that be good enough? If everyone has to give at least two years of service to the Empire, why can’t mine be something I enjoy?”

  He turned to Nisha, his face inches from hers, his dark eyes intense. “You’re the only truly good thing in my life. You know that, right?”

  Nisha wanted to ask him right then—about Akash, about the Redeeming, about everything—but her throat closed up and she could only nod. Devan kissed her lightly on the nose, and then pulled her close for a deeper kiss. His hands tangled in Nisha’s hair, his palm slid over her waist, her hip, leaving a trail of heat behind. For a moment, Nisha wanted nothing more than to let go of her fear of being caught, to give in completely.

  But if we get caught, I’m dead. Dead like Atiy.

  The thought was as unexpected and chilling as a bucket of well water. Nisha stiffened.

  “What’s wrong?” Devan asked, pulling away to look at her. “Are you all right?”

  Nisha was shaking. She couldn’t speak for a moment. The risk she was taking had never seemed as real to her. Seeing Atiy, her young, broken body, made it sink in. If anyone discovered her with Devan, Nisha could be dead tomorrow, her body burned, and her name forgotten.

  “Nisha.” Devan was saying her name and shaking her lightly. “Nisha, what is it? Did I do something wrong?”

  Nisha shook her head, pushing the tears away. “I’m sorry,” she managed. “It’s just … I’m scared.”

  “Of what?” Devan said. “Of us?”

  Nisha swallowed. “Of what will happen if they find out about us,” she said. “If they know … You’re a tar’Vey. I’m a nobody. If they find out about us, I could be executed.”

  “Really?” Devan sat up straighter, and his forehead furrowed. “I didn’t realize they still did that.” He fell silent. “Nisha,” he said at last, lifting her chin to look at him. “Nisha, do you remember the first time we met? I was late with my first mail delivery, and you had fallen asleep waiting for it.”

  Nisha rubbed her eyes on her sleeve. “You almost ran me over with that horse of yours. I thought I was being attacked by a monster.”

  Devan laughed deep in his chest and pulled her closer. “I’ll never forget how you looked when you stood up, your hair flying everywhere, scared and sleepy at the same time. I thought you were a spirit of the woods at first. And then you started yelling at me.”

  “I didn’t know who you were!” Nisha said. “I was horrified when I finally saw your mark. You could have had me punished for speaking to you like that.”

  “But I didn’t tell anyone,” Devan said. “Because I didn’t want anything to happen to you, my beautiful wild girl.” His thumb brushed the side of her jaw, and he kissed her softly on the forehead. “I protected you then, and I’ll protect you now. I won’t let anything happen to you, Nisha. I swear.”

  Nisha bit her lip. She wanted to beg Devan to take her away with him today, to take her to a place she felt safe. But she knew he couldn’t. The only way they could be together was if he came and spoke for her at the Redeeming. “Devan, would you—” She swallowed. “I mean, have you ever thought—?”

  Rerewww!

  A high-pitched yowl cut the air, and Jerrit flung himself over Devan and into Nisha’s lap. The noble swore as fur flew everywhere.

  Nisha scrambled to her feet, trying to contain the cat. Jerrit jumped to her shoulder. His paws pulled at her hair, and he yowled again.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Devan yelled.

  “I don’t know.” Nisha winced as claws dug into her shoulder. “I’ve never seen him like this!”

  What in the name of the Ancestors are you doing? she sent.

  Look. Jerrit’s tail lashed.

  Nisha turned just in time to see Zann come out of the gate, a large clay pot in her hands.

  Oh. Nisha was suddenly glad to be grappling with a cat. It wasn’t dignified, but now she had a good explanation for her mussed hair and rumpled asar.

  “What’s this?” Zann asked, her narrowed eyes flickering from Devan to Nisha.

  Jerrit was still trying to climb Nisha as if she were an arjin tree. It was Devan who answered.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” he said, brushing the cat hair off his tunic. “This girl’s animal went crazy and we were trying to contain it.” He sneezed and rubbed his red eyes. “May I suggest that you cull your cat population?” he said to Nisha. “There are altogether too many of them, and they’re very bad mannered.”

  Still trying to pry Jerrit off her shoulder, Nisha opened her mouth to answer and caught a whiff of the stuff in the pot that Zann was holding. It smelled horrible, like spoiled meat. Nisha almost gagged.

  Devan covered his nose. “What in the name of the Ancestors is that? And why would you bring it out here?”

  Zann scowled but kept her eyes down. “It’s rotflower extract, sir. I’m supposed to dispose of it in the woods. It attracts too many flies to dump it inside the walls.”

  “I can see why,” Devan said. “Well, I certainly don’t want to wait for the flies to show up.” He untied the horse and swung himself up into the saddle. “I won’t be here tomorrow,” he said, looking at both girls. “The Emperor has other work for me at court.” His eyes lingered on Nisha for a heartbeat, a glance she felt like a physical touch on her s
kin. “But I’ll be back in three days. Let your matron know that, won’t you?” Then he turned and rode away.

  With another yowl, Jerrit sprang out of Nisha’s arms and ran into the woods.

  Nisha turned to Zann, hoping desperately that the disgraced girl hadn’t seen them talking or suspected anything if she had. But Zann no longer seemed interested in the retreating courier.

  Instead she stared at Nisha, her lip curled with disgust. “Look at you,” she said. “You’re a mess.” Without warning, she swung the pot at Nisha, splashing some of the foul green liquid onto her sandals.

  “That’s better,” Zann said, and walked away.

  Nisha was still staring after her when Jerrit poked his head out of the woods.

  Is she gone?

  “Yeah,” Nisha said, wiping her foot on the rough grass. “But so is Devan. Now I’ll have to wait three days to talk to him again.”

  I know, Jerrit sent. But I saw Zann too late to warn you, and jumping on you was the only thing I could think of. His tail drooped. I’m sorry.

  “You’re forgiven,” Nisha said. “But for a moment there I almost killed you. I didn’t even know you could shed on purpose.”

  I have no idea what you’re talking about, Jerrit sent. And I might not like Devan, but at least he can think on his feet. He might have more than hairballs for brains after all.

  Nisha scooped up the bag of scrolls. “Well, that’s nice of you,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Come on. I’ll put these in Matron’s study; then you and I can try to figure out what to do next. Council meetings always last forever; maybe there’s still time.”

  After dropping the scrolls, Nisha and Jerrit walked through the hedge maze. Nisha kept a wary eye out for Zann, but the girl wasn’t anywhere in sight.

  Halfway through, Jerrit stopped, the hair on his back standing up. Do you smell that?