Gan kept grinning fit to split her face. I did good?
Of all of them, Gan was the only one who didn’t have to move her lips or subvocalize to send crisp, clear mindspeech. Lily wondered what that meant. You did really, really good.
Gan beamed. I wish you’d been with us, but I like Rule now even though he was grouchy when he was a wolf. And Old Woman was there, so that was good.
Old Woman? Lily sent, amused in spite of everything. Do you call Grandmother that?
In my mind I do because I don’t have the right call-name for her. It’s confusing, so it’s probably a soul thing. I haven’t found the gate yet, but it’s bound to be with the nodes, only I can’t get to the nodes. There’s too much open space and people haven’t gone out there so I could hide among them and the spawn wouldn’t spot me. Are these the people who captured you? I’ve got a knife. I could stab some of them and you could get away.
It’s not time for me to escape yet, Lily sent. As close as she was to Gan, she hardly had to move her lips at all. The guards either hadn’t noticed or they assumed she was praying, like Cynna had claimed. About the gate—no, crossing spot first. Did you find any crossing spots?
I can’t get to the nodes, Gan repeated. And everybody’s leaving now. Guards told them to. I can hide in the market because of the stalls there, but the spawn could see me if I go across the open space. I can’t get to the nodes to look for the gate or for crossing spots.
Gan wasn’t really agoraphobic in the same way that you weren’t really paranoid if people actually were out to get you. Open spaces scared her, yeah, but for most of her life being out in the open meant getting eaten. I’m glad you waited for me. I can help you and you can help me. Now, about the gate . . .
? ? ?
THEY’D watched the juggler. They’d eaten little balls of fried niangao, a sticky sweet Gan favored, and wandered a little farther from the stamp office to watch a shadow puppet show. Mei Ling had done a good job of keeping him away from the Stamp Office so he wouldn’t see his supposed employer being arrested. And he’d done a decent job of flirting just enough to let her think she was succeeding so she wouldn’t see the guilt crawling around in his gut.
He was beginning to understand why Grandmother had refused to ensorcel the boat father back in Liangzhou. Mei Ling and her father believed they’d turned Grandmother in because she was a tax cheat. They had no idea she’d told them to do so, or that she’d subtly edited their memories of her . . . and of Rule. At the moment, those fake memories of him were dormant.
Ensorcellment had two drawbacks. The first was practical: it faded over time. How much time depended on the strength and skill of the practitioner, the type of ensorcellment used, and on the mind being ensorcelled. Some minds, Grandmother said, soaked up fantasies but rejected orders fairly quickly. Others had no problem accepting orders, but memory adjustments didn’t stick. Grandmother expected her ensorcellment of Mei Ling and her family to last about twenty-four hours, but for some of them it would linger longer.
The second drawback was moral. Which meant it was complicated.
Grandmother wanted to do the least harm possible. That’s why Mei Ling’s family needed to believe Rule was infatuated with her—that he would end up giving her the child they wanted, and perhaps stay with them on their boat. This made it easy for their minds to accept some of the things they’d been ensorcelled into doing.
But there would be harm. Harm to a young girl. Harm to her family.
“Wu Tǔ Ní?” Mei Ling’s sweet, high voice broke into his thoughts. “Why do the puppets make you sad instead of making you laugh?”
He’d let his face show too much. He smiled and used one of his few words—“chá”—and mimed sipping from a teacup, then raised his brows in question. Did she want a cup of tea?
She smiled back, beckoned for him to follow, and chattered away happily. The tea house was close and very respectable, she said. Her father wouldn’t mind, surely, if they had a cup of tea. The assurance was for herself, since she’d assume he understood little or none of what she said.
He’d taken four steps away from the puppet show when he stopped dead.
Rule! Are you able to talk right now?
Not easily, he answered.
Then listen. Grandmother got here, but they’ve separated me and Cynna. They want me all cleaned up and pretty to present to the Great Bitch. I’m at the bathhouse. I can’t let them take me into the Home of the Seven—that’s where the spawn live—so I’ll need to make my break when Li Po decides bath time is over. Have you started the distraction moving?
Not yet. Anxiety tightened his muscles. Li Po is the guard commander, right? Can you get away from him? How many guards are with you?
Too many, but Gan’s with me. She’ll help.
“Wu Tǔ Ní? What is wrong?”
Rule looked down into Mei Ling’s worried face. Silently he said, Distraction coming up. Out loud—and in English—he said, “Mei Ling. Wake up.”
? ? ?
THE interior of the bathhouse was stinking hot from the hot spring, but not as dim as usual. Ah Hai had casually released half a dozen mage lights, saying they would be needed when she applied the cosmetics.
Li Po had left after informing Ah Hai to have Lily ready in three hands—a manner of telling time Lily had not mastered, but it might mean a couple hours. Or not. The five guards remained just outside the door.
“I cannot even see your friend,” Ah Hai whispered. “How can I agree to this if I cannot see her, speak with her?”
And read her, Lily thought. That’s what Ah Hai really wanted—to use her empathic Gift to learn what Gan was like. It was a reasonable request. “All right. She may look odd to you, though.”
A hint of a smile. “I look odd to many people. Many of the Kanas do.”
“Okay. Gan, drop the dashtu.”
“It’s not something I pick up or drop,” Gan complained in English—and apparently became visible, because Ah Hai gasped. Lily couldn’t tell when Gan was dashtu. The little one looked the same to her either way. “It’s more like crossing, only without really going anywhere.”
“You do look different,” Ah Hai said uncertainly in her language. “Rather like . . . you will forgive me, I hope, but you look like the being the Zhuren wanted everyone to watch for. One of demon heritage.”
“That’s me,” Gan agreed cheerfully in English. “I’m not a demon anymore, but I used to be before I started growing a soul.”