City of a Thousand Dolls (13 page)

Pah
. Jerrit tried to lick the water off his thick fur.
The old cat legends say that water used to come from the sky, and all you had to do to stay dry was crawl under something
.

Nisha laughed. The idea of moisture coming down, instead of seeping up, was oddly funny to her.
Esmer told me some of those tales
, she sent.
I like the ones with fish as large as bears and lakes the size of the entire Empire
.

I like those too
, Jerrit sent. He licked his lips, showing sharp white teeth.
And speaking of fish …
He gave Nisha a hopeful look, and she rolled her eyes.

Come on
, she sent.
Let’s get breakfast
.

Good. I’m hungry
. Jerrit slipped after her as she headed reluctantly for the Council House. Some of the other cats rose, stretched, and followed.

You’re always hungry
, Nisha pointed out. There was gentle mind-laughter from the cluster of cats behind her, and Jerrit swiveled his ears.

It’s because I’m a mighty hunter
, he sent.
Takes a lot of energy
.

If you were a mighty hunter, you’d be off hunting your breakfast with Esmer instead of waiting for scraps
, Nisha teased, and went in the back door of the Council House to scavenge for the cats’ breakfast.

It was more of a symbolic chore than anything. The cats could—and did—hunt the mice, birds, and small game of the City. But spotted cats were considered good luck, and part of the ritual to maintain that luck was to give them an offering every day.

Plus, the cats loved the meaty scraps soaked in goat’s milk that Nisha set out for them. By the time she got back, the shoving, mewing crowd was about twice as large. The cats waited with restrained eagerness until Nisha set down the large platter; then there was a rush for the food. The mews and growls were replaced by contented chomping. Nisha watched them for a moment, then smiled and went to grab some figs and a slice of brown bread for herself before her chores.

Nisha liked her morning chores. She liked dusting the shelves in Matron’s office and polishing the low teak desk until she could see her reflection like a ghost in the wood. The Council House was quieter in the morning, and it was easier to think here, away from the crowds of girls.

This morning there was a map left half unrolled on Matron’s desk. Josei’s story about the Old Empire still fresh in her mind, Nisha took a moment to examine the map.

There was the long, platter-shaped valley that made up the bulk of the Empire. Dangerous mountains, and a wide black oval that designated where the Barrier touched the ground, ringed the valley. Five Sacred Rivers, spread out like a fan across the Empire, each branch joining the main river at a different point. There were the wheat and barley fields of the west, the copper and gem mines of the south, and the large spot on the central river that designated the capital city of Kamal.

Now that Nisha was actually looking for it, she could see that most of the Empire remained deserted. There were only three cities of any size on the map; Kamal was, of course, the biggest. Then there was Deshe, the city second in size to Kamal, overlooking the farmlands. Aranya, a fortress city, rose high in the wild forests of the east. Everyone else lived in towns or in the tiny villages that lay like scattered rice over the map.

And then there were the ruins. Nisha touched the dark marks that designated the abandoned cities, wondering what they had been like when they were new. When the Empire had been full of people and full of magic.

Her fingers moved to a small star inked into the woods not far from the capital. Someone—Matron maybe—had written
City of a Thousand Dolls
in flowing script next to it. And under that was a small note.

Preserve at any cost
.

She set the map down again on Matron’s desk.

Nisha moved to the Council library, a large, rectangular room lined with shelves holding piles of rice-paper scrolls, scrolls that held the history of the Empire. She dusted them and checked the pages for decay.

Her mind wandered while her hands cleaned. Half-formed plans, slices of memory, and bits of conversation flowed past like grain falling out of a sack. She thought about Devan while she cleaned, imagined when she’d see him again, what he’d say, then turned to the jostling crowd of cats. A smile tugged at her lips as she remembered the first time she’d ever fed them. She had been in the City only a short time, a lonely little girl who still cried for her parents. Watching the cats had made her smile. Her first smile since her father had left her at the gates.

She’d smiled even more when a kitten broke from the group and waddled toward her. And her smile had turned to wide-eyed wonder when the kitten had fixed her with his golden eyes and spoken straight into her mind.

My name is Jerrit. What’s yours?

Nisha had never cried alone again.

The thought of tears turned her mind to Zann, crying by herself in the maze. What had she been asked to do that made her so sad? Zann was bound to the House of Jade now, trapped in the City for life as a bond slave, banned from the House of Music and from what she loved.

The familiar ache of guilt started again, and Nisha’s mind flew back to the day Zann had asked for a favor....

Nisha was ten years old and was as lonely as she had ever been her first days in the City. Sashi had begun her more rigorous training as a Jade healer and no longer had time to talk and play in the maze after tea. Tanaya, who had always made time to speak to Nisha, had just been chosen for the High Prince. She could talk of nothing else, and it made Nisha feel young and out of place. Nisha had always known that she wasn’t going to have a secure future like her friends, but seeing their excitement only made her feel more like an outsider.

So when Zann, the brilliant musician whom Vinian had been crowing about for months, asked if it was true that Nisha had access every place on the estate, Nisha had said yes. It made her feel important, telling Zann that she could go anywhere in the City. It made her feel like she mattered.

When Zann had asked her if she could get to the records of the girls who had been spoken for, Nisha had said yes again.

And when Zann asked her to sneak into Matron’s study and see if anyone had expressed interest in speaking for her, Nisha—flattered by all the attention—had said yes to that, too.

It was a mistake. Zann, who was dreaming of a musical apprenticeship in the capital, was devastated to learn that she was to be married instead, and to a man old enough to be her father. She had flown into a rage, slamming her door in Nisha’s face.

The next day Matron had called Nisha into her study. Kalia was waiting there, a cold smile on her face and a whip-thin rod in her hand. The burning pain of the rod whipping across her back, the overwhelming shame—Nisha still remembered them vividly enough to make her shudder.

But it was the guilt over Zann’s punishment that had overwhelmed Nisha, driving her to the one thing she’d never dared to do.

Run away.

Nisha swallowed and set down the dusting rag, remembering.

It had been difficult to slip past the guards who had stood at the gates then, but somehow Nisha had managed it. She had sneaked out of the City and made it deep inside the forest. She was running and looking over her shoulder and she never saw the body.

The man had been a Wind caste outlaw, a thief caught by the Emperor’s soldiers days before. The soldiers had wounded him and tied him to a tree for the wolves. It was the death sentence usually given to men like that. The law said they weren’t worth the cost of execution, so common outlaws were simply left to die. Leaving the body far into the woods kept the wolves away from the main roads.

Nisha had tripped right over his legs, slipping on his exposed intestines and covering herself with his blood.

But the worst part hadn’t been the body. It had been the howls and barks of the wolves nearby. To a little girl, they were hungry, vicious noises that spoke of sharp teeth and red, wet mouths, torn flesh. Panicked, Nisha had run back to the City.

She hadn’t ventured more than a few steps into the forest since. Not even with Devan.

As if her dark thoughts had conjured them, Nisha suddenly felt unfriendly eyes watching her. Goose bumps rose on her arms. She raised her head and saw Zann in the library doorway.

ZANN HELD a basket full of stoppered jars, the kind the healers used for storing medicines. Her hair fell in messy strands over her forehead. Her bronze wrist cuffs were crusted with dirt.

“You saw her yesterday, didn’t you?” she said, staring at Nisha. “The dead girl, Jina, you saw her.”

Nisha wondered what Zann was asking. “I was there.”

“Did it look like she died in any pain?” Zann asked. A worry line creased between her eyes. Her hands gripped the basket so hard that her fingers turned white. “Or was it just like she died in her sleep? Did she look peaceful?”

“She looked dead, Zann,” Nisha said, wishing the other girl would just go away. Her head was throbbing. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Zann opened her mouth as if to say something, then pressed her lips together. “I— Never mind,” she snapped. “I should have known you wouldn’t be any help.”

She stalked away as Nisha stared after her. Zann’s behavior was growing odder. Maybe it was the strain of seeing another Redeeming come and go without her. Or maybe she was—

Nisha’s musings were interrupted by a thud behind her.

Whirling around, she scanned the room, her every sense alert. Low bookshelves marched in orderly rows down the middle of the library. Behind one of them, something was moving. In a low crouch, she crept closer.

There was a rustle of paper, the swish of fabric on the rug. Nisha peered over the top and saw Chandra, Kalia’s assistant, huddled behind the shelves. She was absorbed in a scroll spread out on her asar.

“What are you doing?” Nisha asked, forgetting to be quiet.

Chandra jerked her head up, her wide eyes meeting Nisha’s. Terror poured off her in an almost visible wave. Then Chandra scuttled backward like a pond-crab until she hit the next bookshelf. She flung her arms up over her head and closed her eyes.

“It’s all right,” Nisha said. “Chandra? I’m not going to hurt you.”

Chandra didn’t open her eyes or respond, just curled in on herself like a dried leaf.

Nisha tried to move closer, but Chandra whimpered in fear. That whimper, along with the girl’s helpless, huddled body, made Nisha sick with pity.

Chandra was clearly doing something she wasn’t supposed to, and she was obviously terrified at being caught.

Nisha didn’t want to leave her here, but how could she get Chandra out of the library? If she touched her, the girl might scream. And if Chandra screamed, she’d be discovered, and if she was discovered, Kalia would punish her.

Punish them both.

The thought sent a jolt of fear through Nisha, and she almost turned around.

Nisha?
Esmer sent, her voice dim with distance.
Did something happen? We’re outside, and we felt your fear
.

I’m fine
, Nisha sent.
But I do have a problem
. Quickly she sent Esmer a picture of the cowering girl.

Esmer’s normally sharp voice softened.
Poor child. Stay with her; I’m on my way. We’ll have to sneak in
.

All right
, Nisha sent.
Don’t get caught
.

When Esmer arrived, she was not alone. A female named Rashi, her spots almost lost in her deep brown fur, padded close behind. Behind them came Brill, a sleek tom with beige streaks on his sides, and a tiny gray-brown female with rust-colored spots who answered to the oversized name of Valeriana.

The four cats gathered in a loose circle around Chandra. Nisha looked at Esmer, whose coat shone like a freshly polished sword.

What is this?
Nisha asked.
Why all the cats?

We will sing away the fear
, Esmer sent.
This child has been terrified for long enough. We will give her some of our strength and help her find her own
.

Jerrit padded in and sat next to Nisha.
I’ve heard about this ceremony. It’s used only under the most extreme circumstances. I’ve never seen it before
.

There was a smile in Esmer’s voice when she sent,
Well then, both of you, watch and see
.

As if they’d rehearsed it in advance, Brill and Rashi curled up on either side of Chandra. Esmer draped herself over the girl’s feet, while Valeriana wriggled into the hollow of her curled-up body.

Esmer’s tail flicked once, and the cats’ voices rose in a soft harmony. The low purrs and warm mews merged into an intricate melody, filling the room.
Safe
, they sang.
Safe, warm, loved
.

Chandra cracked her eyes open. Her arms, which had been stiff with terror, relaxed, and she uncurled the defensive huddle of her body.

The cats did not stop singing.
You are strong like the forest
, they purred.
Resilient as the river. Nothing can twist you, nothing can break you. You will survive
.

Without looking at Nisha, Chandra picked up Valeriana. She held the tiny cat to her cheek, and the loneliness on her face tore Nisha to the bone. It reminded her so much of who she had been without the cats.

“Chandra,” Nisha said.

Chandra gathered the cats closer, holding them as a shield. Then she lifted her head to meet Nisha’s eyes.

“Chandra,” Nisha repeated as gently as she could. “I’m sorry I frightened you.”

Chandra nodded.

“Are you supposed to be in the library?” Nisha asked.

The girl shrank a little but answered. “No,” she said, her voice barely above a rustle.

“I won’t tell Kalia,” Nisha said.

Chandra picked up a rice-paper scroll covered with delicate watercolor drawings. Tensing as if expecting a blow, she handed it to Nisha.

“A botany scroll?” Nisha said.

“I like plants,” Chandra said. “Plants don’t care what House you are or what caste you’ll be.” Her voice grew stronger with every word. “They give their beauty to everyone, and all they ask is to be cared for. Kalia won’t let me go to the greenhouse because she thinks it a waste of time. So sometimes, when Kalia doesn’t need me, I come in here to look at the pictures, learn the names.” She went pale. “If Kalia finds out I’m here—”