Witch Fall (5 page)

“I must warn you, if you pass the compound’s gates, you will be beaten. If you ever leave the harem walls, you will be killed.”

After staring her down, Wang left. “And don’t feed the monkeys!” he called back. She didn’t move until he crossed the garden and shut the gate behind him. Already, Lilette’s senses were dulled by whatever he had drugged her with.

She searched the home, looking for anything useful for her escape—knives or rope, or jewels she could sell. Nothing in the main room. She slid open one of the side screens to reveal a bare room—two sleeping mats lying side by side. Her mouth suddenly dry, she quickly shut the screen.

It was becoming harder to focus. She shook her head to clear it and crossed the room to the other silk screen. Behind it were shelves with pottery and baskets and another sleeping mat, obviously for her servant. She rifled through the baskets, but they were empty of all but a trace of rice or leaves. No knives. Not even a bit of twine. So she’d have nothing but her wits and her body. It would have to be enough.

Back in the main room, Lilette knelt before the tray of food. She shoved all but the rice and one of the rolls inside a tea towel she’d found in the second room, then tied off the towel and stuffed it into her robe. Starting toward the door, she nibbled on the tangy roll she’d saved, but at the thought of the two sleeping mats side by side, her throat grew so tight she could barely swallow.

She strode outside. The monkey called at her. Remembering Wang’s parting comment, she tossed the roll to the base of the tree. The monkey snatched it and raced back up. Just as she reached for the gate, the full effect of the drug slammed into her.

She reeled back, wavering on her feet. Her legs went limp and she collapsed in a heap. Before she knew what was happening, everything went dark.

Lilette once told me she didn’t trust beauty—hers or anyone else’s. That it was a great illusion. ~Jolin

Lilette woke to a clinking sound. She found herself on the cushions beside the short table. Someone had moved her. Fighting the exhaustion still dulling her senses, she pushed herself up on her elbows and saw a kneeling woman placing a teapot on the brazier. She wore an ankle-length tunic and trousers of fine black silk. Her hair was piled on her head and held in place by chopsticks.

Lilette glanced out the open screen. The light had gone soft—it was evening. She’d slept nearly half the day. She moaned in frustration.

The woman poured some food into a copper pan. It sizzled and immediately sent the dark, sweet smell of brown sauce into the air. But what should have smelled delicious only made Lilette’s stomach turn. She rolled her knees under her, the towel stuffed with food sticking damply to her side. “Who are you?”

“My name is Sima. I have been assigned as madame’s servant. I will live with you and see to all your needs. Today, I am to prepare food and begin preparations for madame before the heir comes tonight.”

Lilette’s head jerked up. “I thought he was coming tomorrow.”

Sima pursed her lips. “Is he? Good. That will give us more time.”

It would be much harder to escape with this woman watching her. “I don’t need a servant. Please just go.”

“I’m afraid that isn’t possible.” Sima cleared her throat. “Tell me, why did the heir choose you?”

Lilette looked past the doorway, to the ramparts. The sun was just beginning to move behind them. Her time was running out. She staggered to her feet and took a few faltering steps toward the door.

Sima was beside her in an instant. “It wears off slowly. Sit, rest. It will pass by tomorrow.”

“I don’t have time to rest,” Lilette ground out. She’d made it to the door and then stopped.

A man waited outside. At the sight of her, he started forward. Sima held out a forestalling hand. “She just wanted some fresh air. She’s coming back now.”

Though her whole body ached to fight, Lilette allowed Sima to pull her back inside and settle her on the cushions.

“You didn’t choose to be here?” Sima sounded surprised.

“No,” Lilette whispered, her heart pounding with desperation. “I did not choose it.”

Sima’s brow drew together. After a moment, she sighed. “No one ever leaves. Even those who have help.”

Lilette clenched her fists at her sides. There had to be a way. If not now—she braced herself as the fear slammed into her—then soon. “Will I ever be allowed to leave this compound?” It would be much easier to escape if she were already beyond these walls.

Sima stirred the vegetables. “Sometimes, if the hot season is especially bad and the needs of the empire are not too demanding, we go to the summer palace in the mountains at the center of the island. It is beautiful and remote enough that we are allowed to travel beyond the palace walls.” There was an undeniable hint of longing in the woman’s voice. “Even then, most concubines never leave the compound. A select few have spent time in the palace itself, if the emperor wishes it.”

Lilette knew Chen would never risk taking her from the safety of these walls. Escaping would take time and careful planning, neither of which she had. She closed her eyes and imagined herself home, sitting on the shore, the sun bleeding red as it sank into the sea’s vast waters. The images calmed her.

Sima set the food before Lilette, who refused to look at it. The woman sat on her heels, her hands resting on her legs. “Will you not eat, madame?”

Lilette moved the food farther away so she wouldn’t have to smell it. “I am not well.”

“Did you eat all the food I left for you earlier? The tray was empty.”

Lilette sighed. She couldn’t tell the woman about the food stuffed in her robes. “It was delicious, thank you.”

Sima sniffed. “If I am to teach you court manners, I must know more about you. Might I ask you questions, madame?”

Lilette wiped the sweat from her face. “I suppose.”

Sima closed the brazier vents to snuff out the fire. “You speak as a Harshen, though clearly you are not. Where are you from?”

Lilette took a deep breath, determined not to let her emotions surface. “From one of the smaller islands.” She didn’t tell her about being born a Kalari—it was not a story she told. Ever.

“What was it called?”

Lilette’s head was beginning to hurt. She rubbed her temples. “Calden.”

Sima cocked her head to the side. “You do not look like a Harshen.”

Lilette’s stomach rolled inside her. Groaning, she pressed her hand to her middle.

“Madame? If I am to instruct you, I must know where to begin.”

Lilette’s mouth watered uncontrollably. She held her fingers over her lips and tried to concentrate on keeping the vomit down. “I came to Calden Island when I was very young. A man named Fa took me in and raised me as his daughter. He died a few weeks ago.”

She tried and failed to push the memory of his death from her mind. So much blood that it had stained the surface of the sea. She could taste it as she had dove down to kill the eel that had bitten through an artery in Fa’s arm.

Sima watched her carefully. “Why did the heir choose you as his concubine?”

Lilette didn’t understand what these questions had to do with her learning the proper etiquette. “Doesn’t matter.”

For the first time, Sima met Lilette’s gaze. “Have you performed all your duties as a concubine yet?”

Lilette swallowed her outrage and tried to rise to her feet, but she was suddenly dizzy. She stumbled and threw her hands out to catch herself, but there was nothing to hold onto. She tripped on the cushions and crashed into the brazier, burning her hands and spilling hot coals across the floor.

She blinked to steady her vision, but everything was fuzzy and disjointed. “I am not well.”

Sima knelt next to her but made no move to help, no move to smother the coals smoking on the beautiful wood floor. “Answer my question.”

Sima’s hands were right in front of Lilette’s face. She stared at the ring on the woman’s finger. A curving dragon, its scales bright gold, its face impossibly detailed with emerald chips for eyes. But what stunned her most was the dragon’s claws—five of them. Only the royal family could wear a dragon with five claws.

Sima bent down and clenched Lilette’s jaw in her impossibly smooth hands. “He’s risked a war for you. I want to know why.”

This close, Lilette could smell the woman’s pear-blossom perfume. Servants wouldn’t wear something as lavish as perfume. And the eunuchs served the harem. A different sort of fear reared up inside Lilette. “Who are you?” But she didn’t wait for her answer. “The woman on the elephant.” Chen’s wife.

Han had warned Lilette to be afraid. Her stomach cramped. “What have you done to me?”

Sima’s hold tightened, bruising Lilette’s jaw. “I will give you the antidote if you tell me why.”

“But . . .” Lilette sputtered before clamping her mouth shut. She’d only had one bite of the spring roll. Surely that wasn’t enough to kill her, yet her body told her otherwise. Lilette’s heart raced, pumping the poison faster through her veins. She did not want to die.

“Because I am a witch. His father tried to take my mother when I was a child. I was meant for Chen.”

The woman’s expression turned to disgust. “Did he think to sire his own private choir of witches? It would never work. The witches always find their own.” Sima laughed suddenly. “Well then, his destruction will be easy to orchestrate. I won’t even have to kill him. The witches will do it for me.”

Lilette’s head ached. “The antidote.”

Sima’s gaze narrowed. “One more thing. What was your mother’s name?”

Lilette wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her wrist. “Lellan. Her name was Lellan.”

Sima scrutinized her for a long moment. She gave a small nod of satisfaction before releasing her and gathering the food and tea. Lilette’s hand shot out, trying to grab her arm, but there were two arms now, and she’d reached for the wrong one. The woman easily batted her away and started toward the silk screen.

“Wait! The antidote!”

The woman chuckled dryly as she tossed the food and the remainder of the tea into the soil. “There isn’t one. Never was.” She stepped out of sight.

“Should we wait until it is finished?” came a man’s deep voice. Definitely not a eunuch.

“It’s too risky. Besides, it only takes one bite, and the whole plate was empty. No one could survive that,” Sima answered tartly.

One bite was still one bite too many. Lilette stopped fighting her nausea and vomited onto the fine silk cushions. She reached into her robes and tossed the towel of mangled food onto the floor. She had to get out of the house, get help. She struggled to her feet, using the wall to shore herself up until she peeked out the door.

Sima and the man were gone. It was nearly dark. Lilette put her hands out for balance and started forward, but promptly tumbled down the steps. She lay gasping, her heart flopping in her chest like a dying fish. She pressed the heel of her hand against her ribs to keep it from beating out of her chest.

She rolled to her side and came face to face with the monkey she’d thrown the spring roll to. It was lying under a shrub, dead. Looking past the carcass, Lilette fixed her gaze on the gate. She had to reach it. Years of balancing on Fa’s fishing boat were the only reason she made it to her feet and kept her balance all the way to the gate.

Lilette’s hands were numb and tingling, her shaking limbs impossibly heavy, but she managed to grab the latch and pull it open. She lurched through the gate. Everything tipped and swayed around her. Leaning on the wall, she threw up bile. She pressed the back of her cold wrist to her mouth and followed the wall back the way she’d come.

Her heart finally started to slow down. For a moment, she felt better. Her vision cleared and she was able to move without clutching onto something for support. Her pace picked up measurably. It didn’t last long enough, though. Everything was surrounded by a halo, like each object was backed by its very own sun. She swayed and stumbled like someone deep in her cups. She bumped into something, reeled back, and looked up, up, up.

Through her muddy thoughts, she recognized the ramparts. She’d gone the wrong way. Filling her lungs, she screamed for help. Silence answered her. With tears in her eyes, she faced the way she’d come. She could feel her body shutting down. See death teasing her along the outer curve of her vision. Already it was too late.

But Lilette had never given up before, and sheer habit kept her moving when nothing else would have. She turned and lurched back the way she’d come. But death grew more bold, more ominous. She tried to bat the darkness away with her hands, but it only laughed as it came swarming in.

She fell to the ground, her whole body convulsing. Death leaned over her, and its breath puffed against her face. It smelled of orchids.