Battle Magic

emperor, leaned her head on the table. Her fist was by her ear, their sign to Evvy to stop. With her little finger she sketched a line from her nose to the edge of her mouth, like a wrinkle. It was their sign for “elder.” They’d had to work out a series of signs for Evvy on the road, when her youthful lack of caution started to get her, and them, into hot water.

Evvy saw it. She bowed her head and mumbled, “I’m sorry if I offended anyone, Your Imperial Majesty.” From the way she looked only at the emperor, not at his general or at the angry mage, Briar could tell that she had deliberately not included them in her apology. She placed the beads in a heap on the table. “I was only telling what I know from the stone.”

“I thank you, Evumeimei,” the emperor assured her. “I am delighted and impressed. You have every right — and it is your duty to your teachers and your tradition — to speak what you have been taught. In fact, it would be very wrong of you to speak against your tradition here in Yanjing. We are nothing without respect to our elders and ancestors. You may approach us.”

Evvy glanced at Briar, nervous.

“He wants you to walk up closer to the table,” Briar whispered.

As she did so, the emperor raised a finger. A eunuch came to kneel beside him. After that, all Briar saw of the man was two hands offering something wrapped in bright yellow silk. The emperor took it, and the eunuch walked away from his master.

“Here is a small token of our friendship,” Weishu said, offering the silk-wrapped bundle to Evvy. She took it and dropped to her knees for the usual Yanjingyi bow. Briar glanced at Hengkai and Guanshi, but neither revealed their emotions. Maybe they know they’ve gotten themselves in enough trouble with the emperor today, Briar decided.

“Rise, Evumeimei,” the emperor said. “Open it.” He was smiling.

Briar stepped forward. He bowed, then motioned to Hengkai’s necklace, which the man had not retrieved. “May I, Your Imperial Majesty?”

The emperor nodded. The general only scowled and looked away. As Evvy carefully unwrapped her gift, Briar scooped the beads from the table. He glanced at Rosethorn, who raised a graceful eyebrow at him. Briar lifted a shoulder to say, “I don’t know” to her silent question of “Why?” He ran the necklace through his fingers, watching Evvy.

She draped the silk over her shoulder. Her gift was something carved in bright red stone. “It’s a cat!” Evvy cried. “A cat, made of cinnabar!”

“Do not handle cinnabar too much with your bare hands,” Jia Jui cautioned.

“I know,” Evvy said, using the silk to turn the beautifully carved cat in her hands. “There’s quicksilver in it.”

“The gift itself is a great honor,” Jia Jui went on, smiling. “Cinnabar symbolizes long life in our magical teachings.”

Down onto her knees Evvy went again. “Thank you so very much, Your Imperial Majesty,” she said. “I’ll treasure it always, and I’ll remember the lesson that long life and cats are dangerous things.”

The emperor chuckled, as did most of those who could hear, but Briar did not. That bow was starting to annoy him. No student of his should have to grovel to anyone.

“How did you know a cat was perfect for me?” Evvy asked when Weishu told her to rise.

“I heard you traveled from distant Chammur with seven,” the emperor replied. “Will you tell me about them?”

Evvy hardly needed an invitation to talk about her beloved cats. As she described them and their virtues to her imperial audience, Briar inspected the flat, carved wooden beads with his fingers and his power. He wanted to be sure that, should he ever encounter a warrior who wore such a necklace again, he would know exactly what beads to reach for. He did the same with the oak beads on the string, and the gingko beads, memorizing their feel with the Yanjingyi spells sunk into their grain. Then he looked at Mage General Hengkai. The older man had leaned back, away from the halberds, so he could finger the beads wound around one wrist. What deadly secrets were there? Briar wondered. How many deaths did the general carry in all those strings wrapped around his arms? And for whom were they destined?

Couriers arrived for the emperor just when they reached the lily gardens after breakfast. His guests weren’t permitted to know what was in the messages that were so urgent as to take him away from them. He made his excuses and asked Jia Jui to escort them through the beautiful water gardens instead. When they had seen and admired their full share of water lilies, earthbound lilies, trees, flowering vines, beautiful fish, water birds, and carefully landscaped views, the guests returned to their pavilion for a much-needed rest.

Before they retired to their beds, Rosethorn and Briar looked over their new rosebush, which had arrived during the morning. It had been moved into a dark green glazed jar that matched the color of the leaves precisely, a touch even Evvy appreciated. Moreover, the inked Yanjingyi lettering on the inside of the jar’s lip appeared to be instructions to the cats. Even Monster, who had learned only with difficulty that he was not to anoint Briar’s shakkans — miniature trees — sniffed the jar once, sneezed, and stayed away from it. Briar and Rosethorn both sent their power through the bush, finding the traces of Rosethorn’s earlier healing of the mold. Neither of them said it aloud, but they both wanted to ensure the gardeners had not been forced to destroy the original plant.

They were joined for supper by Jia Jui, Parahan, and those of the afternoon’s party who had actually seemed to enjoy themselves. The group introduced the foreigners to some Yanjingyi games and music, then took them to a terrace that looked out over a long body of water. There they fed the giant carp that swam in its waters until an exquisite display of fireworks — colored flowers and trees made of zayao — was set off in their honor. By the time it was over, Rosethorn, Briar, and Evvy were happy to return to their pavilion and their beds.

Rosethorn spent an hour going over the rosebush again. Once she was done she had hoped to write to her beloved Lark, back at Winding Circle, but she could barely keep her eyes open.

A day spent with hidden tensions between Evvy and the general, Evvy and that older mage, and whatever else was going on between the courtiers and Rosethorn’s people would do that. The emperor was also the kind of ruler who enjoyed toying with his lords. She would be happy when they left the imperial court and its pitfalls. Rosethorn was asleep as soon as she closed her eyes.

Someone splashed her with heavy, stinking oil. She struggled to shake it off her leaves and blossoms, but the oil clung. Her sisters cried out from its weight on their stems and greenery as the men who cared for them walked between them, throwing this dreadful liquid all over them. The men didn’t even care that they broke twigs and knocked petals off their blooms! The men were usually so careful!

Now they came to fling dry reeds down between their plants, reeds that dripped more of the stinking oil. She didn’t understand. None of them understood.

The rose plants didn’t understand, but the sleeping Rosethorn did. With a cry she thrust her blankets aside and jumped out of bed. She didn’t even remember to put on shoes. Still half asleep, not thinking of Briar or Evvy, she raced out of the pavilion through a back door. The first touch of flame to reeds brought her to her knees on a trail that skirted a willow pond. She lurched to her feet again and ran on as light grew slowly in the sky ahead.

When she reached the rose garden, all of it was in flames. The gardeners had been bound and left at its center: They were done screaming. The emperor and his soldiers watched on horseback from the main path.

The emperor saw her as he turned his horse to ride away. “The plants harbored mold and the gardeners allowed them to do so,” he said, his face calm. “Surely you understand that no imperfection is permitted at one of