“Are you Miss Tea? The one with that brother named Fox?”
My drowsiness disappeared. Save for the people living in the Valerian, I hadn’t expected anyone else to know my name. “Who told you about me?” I blurted out, forgetting to be polite. I rarely talked to servants from the other houses, for we were often scolded when caught gossiping instead of working. I didn’t know what punishment the others were given, but Mistress Parmina’s was to withhold my twice-a-week grilled fish, and I was determined not to lose what little flavor I was afforded in my meals, Fox’s smuggled treats notwithstanding. Lady Mykaela wasn’t the kind of person to gossip, but I didn’t think Lady Shadi was the type either. Kana was my best guess.
The girl only shrugged. She stank of magic and beauty. I guess even cha-khana assistants had their vanities. “Please bring a change of clothes for Lady Shadi—and her setar. And you’d better get to it too, or she’ll be mad as hops!”
The Falling Leaf was one of the more well-known teahouses in the district, and it was not uncommon for some of their staff to call on houses. Asha normally visited two or three cha-khana a night, sometimes more if she was popular. Occasionally they would send word to their asha-ka and ask for a fresh set of hua or an instrument they could play if their guests wanted a performance. Asha usually select what to wear based on how appropriate the design is for the season and often laid them out in their rooms before heading out in case a change of clothes was required in the course of the night. I had gone on similar errands in the past. But no one from any of the tearooms had ever called for me by name before.
Because it was springtime, Lady Shadi had left for the night wearing a beautiful olive-green hua with doves embroidered along her voluminous sleeves and a waist wrap of deep plum with silver-stitched outlines of chrysanthemums. The hua she had laid out before leaving was golden in color, with white puffs of dandelions billowing out along its edges, paired with a light-gray waist wrap with turquoise leaves. Her setar lay across her bed, slightly worn and scuffed from age and constant use. I wrapped both up carefully with delicate paper and followed the girl outside.
Like most tearooms, the Falling Leaf looks deceptively simple from the outside. One entered it by walking up through a domed doorway, with a large folding screen made of carved wood and embossed in intricate metal designs preventing anyone from looking in on the festivities within. Past this screen lay a large garden common in every cha-khana in Ankyo. Fishes swam in small ponds, with trellises serving as shade. A large fountain statue in the likeness of the Great Hero Anahita stood at the center, water flowing down a jar she was pouring into one of the many streams below. A series of rooms on a raised platform surrounded this garden, separated by wooden dividers and drawing screens, ensuring that anyone who might want to leave the party for a few minutes to wander among the trees and flowers can do so easily and with all the privacy they desired.
The girl bade me to wait at the entrance but was back in less than a minute, gesturing for me to follow. Soft strains of laughter reached our ears as we approached one of the rooms. The girl tapped lightly against the screen, and it was pulled back almost immediately. A moon-faced asha stared back at us before turning back and announcing to the party inside, “The bone witchling is here!”
A long, slim hand shot out and grabbed me by the sleeve, tugging me into the room before the door slammed shut before the startled attendant’s face.
There were no guests inside, only asha. They circled me, giggling, and their silver heartsglass glinted in the candlelight. I sat on the floor, confused and suddenly dizzy, still hugging Lady Shadi’s clothes and setar to my chest.
“Why, she’s smaller than I expected!” said the asha who’d dragged me inside. She was easily one of the most beautiful girls I had ever seen, with flowing, brown hair artfully arranged in complicated coils at the nape of her neck. Strands of multicolored gemstones hung from her hair and dangled on either side of her face, accentuating her light-brown skin. Her hua was a buttercup yellow, with blue-tinged butterflies fluttering at her lengthy sleeves. “I thought Dark asha would be more imposing, like Mykaela of the Hollows or like the Pincher.”
The rest of the girls collapsed into laughter. “If Lady Parmina hears you call her that, Zoya, she would have your hide!” one of them proclaimed. She wore a gray veil covering her head and chest and a salmon-colored hua of a wisteria design.
“Then let her, Tami,” Zoya retorted. “I’m not afraid of an old crone who spends her days picking her nose more often than she picks hua!” The laughter grew in volume because that was, in fact, one of Mistress Parmina’s unfortunate habits.
“Where is Lady Shadi?” I asked, my voice quavering, trying to quell the pounding on the side of my head.
“If Lady Shadi were here, then that would take the fun out of everything, wouldn’t it?” Zoya’s blue eyes were bright with glee, “but she did happen to mention that your name was Tea. How unusual! Shadi must be feeling so left out, being the only asha in a sea of darklings!”
I turned toward the door, but a couple of asha blocked my exit.
“You came here to explore the cha-khana, didn’t you? It would be a shame to let you leave so early,” said another asha. Her long braids were coiled around her head, and the long pins in her hair made tinkling sounds every time she moved.
“Don’t worry, Brijette. The fun’s only beginning. Open the package! Let’s see what’s inside!” Zoya’s fingers danced, and I saw the telltale glow of an unfamiliar rune in the air before the hua I carried was snatched out of my hands, floating toward her. Another flick of her hand, and the setar followed, one of the other asha catching it in midair.
“Why, look! It’s Shadi’s! Naughty little servling!”
“Hurry!” Tami urged. “The boys are waiting!”
The girls converged on me, and any screams I made were cut off as the Wind rune’s spells wove themselves around the room, preventing anyone outside from hearing me. I remembered a tangle of arms and faces, felt myself being physically disrobed and forced to lie on the floor while the asha began to dress me in Lady Shadi’s hua.
“Let’s see how she looks!”
I was tugged back into a sitting position, my head spinning. Zoya assessed me carefully. “I suppose she will do nicely, given such short notice to prepare. Place the setar on her lap, Brijette.”
The girl with the braids complied.
Zoya pursed her lips. “Something’s missing.” She reached down and plucked the crescent amethyst clasp from my hair. “Sveta, lend me your opal pin.”
A yellow-haired asha lifted her hand up to her hair in horror. “Why take mine? Take one of Tami’s. She’s got more than any of us here.”
“Hand it over, Sveta.”