that nature doesn’t intend to keep.
“It won’t be cold forever.”
“It will. My nose will never be warm again.”
“Good thing blue suits you,” he says, making my lips twitch. “Have
you spoken to Junjie?”
“I speak to him every day. Several times a day. Whether I like it or
not.”
“You know what I mean.”
I sigh. “I do.” I sit back on my heels and tilt my face up, soaking in
what warmth I can from the weak winter light penetrating the dome. Our
great shield is made of ancient glass, designed by our ancestors to block the
damaging rays of the sun, specially treated to keep the city from growing
too hot during the summer or too cold during the winter. Still, the air is
chilly in the winter months.
According to Gem, it’s even colder in the desert. If it weren’t for the
risk of Monstrous attack, it would be possible for a citizen of Yuan to
venture outside the city for a short time without fearing sun damage.
But there
wandering their lands. I can’t ask the soldiers to put their lives in danger,
and Junjie will never allow Gem through the gate alone. His people have
withdrawn deep into the wilds. They’ve left our city alone, as they
promised, and Gem is the reason. Junjie won’t risk having our good-luck
charm running off into the desert, never to return.
I would agree with him, but I know Gem’s legs aren’t healing as well
as we’d hoped. He can’t stand for more than a few hours at a time—hence
the slow pace of our ground breaking. He would never make it to his
people’s winter camp on foot, but he
So committed, he nearly has me convinced that he doesn’t hate me
anymore.
Nearly.
I haven’t hated
“Isra? The bulbs?”
“Tell me a story,” I say. “Something scary where terrible things
happen to bad creatures.”
“If I can’t leave the city, I can’t get the bulbs or seeds we’ll need,”
Gem says, refusing to play along the way he usually does.
“I know. I’ve known that since we started.” I scratch at my wrist,
wincing as paper-thin pieces of myself fall away. My skin is worse than ever.
The winter never agrees with it, but this winter has been especially brutal.
Needle washes the skin everywhere but my face and neck twice a day in
milk and honey, but still, I’m falling to pieces. “Well …” I force myself to
stop scratching with a sigh. “You’ll just have to leave the city, I suppose.”
“When?” There’s hunger in his voice. Is it hunger for escape or simply
for a few hours of freedom? I don’t know, and I don’t want to know. In the
past two months, my time with Gem has become the bright spot in my day.
If he were to leave …
“Remember your promise,” I say softly. “You’re to stay here.
Forever.”
“There’s no such thing as forever,” he says. “And I promised nothing.
No one speaks for me. Not even my father.”
grass at the edge of the field one by one. I’ll have to pick them up again
later, but I don’t care. It will give me more time to figure out what to do
about the seeds. “Parents make promises for their children all the time. I
was promised to this city before I was even conceived.”
“And it’s clear how pleased you are by it,” he says.
“Don’t let Junjie hear you say that.”
“Why not? Why not tell him yourself, and let them find another
queen?”
My arm falters, and the rock in my hand falls. “That’s not the way it
works,” I say, running my fingers along the ground until I find the stone
again. “You know that by now.”
He grunts. “Well, then … why not leave? The desert wind isn’t
something any living thing should do without,” he says, dangling the words
like bait on the end of a line.
“A blind girl. In the desert. Alone. That sounds like a wonderful plan,
Gem, but I have responsibilities here,” I say, wishing I’d never let him know
how much I crave the feel of the wind on my face. I throw my rock. Hard,
using the full strength in my long arm. “Besides, I need this garden. A
mutant queen isn’t good for the city.”
He’s quiet for a long, strained moment that makes my skin start to
itch all over again.
“Yes?” I ask, recognizing his “about to say something Isra won’t like”
silence. “What is it?”
“It’s … I’m not sure the garden will give you what you’re looking for.”
I cross my legs, letting my heavy pockets flop at my sides as I tilt my
chin up, fixing him with my full attention. “But the herbs and bulbs we’ll
plant will reverse or inhibit mutation,” I remind him. “You’ve said so
yourself. What about the Monstrous babies born with scales covering their
eyes? And the boys whose teeth would grow too large to fit their mouths
without the herbs your healers administer when they’re children?”
“The healing pouches have helped my people,” he says, groaning as
he settles on the ground across from me. His legs seem to hurt the most
when he’s standing up or sitting down. “But you are what you are. There’s
no changing that.”
“Maybe not, but there’s a chance to stop it before it gets any worse.”
I drop my voice to a whisper, suddenly very conscious of the soldiers across
the field. “I’m … growing.”
“And?” Gem asks in a way that makes it clear he thinks I’m being
ridiculous.
“I’m already the tallest person in the city, and I’m still growing,” I say,
wishing I had a rock left to chuck at him. “My new mourning dresses are
bursting at the seams. I thought Needle had made a mistake in her sewing,
but her measurements were correct when she took them four months ago.
She didn’t think to re-measure. I’m sure she assumed it was impossible for
me to get any bigger.”
“My people grow until eighteen or older. Isn’t it the same for Smooth
Skins?”
“No, it’s not,” I say, though I’m not completely sure, not having been
around any growing girls besides Needle and not remembering when my
maid stopped stretching. “At least not the way I am. But it’s not only me I’m
worried about. It’s come to my attention that there are others who need
this garden even more than I do.”
Others who will be grateful for the work I’m doing here, and who will
help me prove that I am a true queen, more than a sacrifice or an
entertaining source of gossip.
“What others?”
“The other tainted, the ones with more severe mutations. The rest of
the city won’t tolerate them,” I say, anxiety rising in my chest. “Bo says
their situation is worse than I knew.”
Baba told me about the Banished, but he never told me how cruelly
they were treated. Bo was surprised that I didn’t know the rules for the
outcasts. I lied and told him that Baba rarely discussed city matters with
me, but I’m sure Bo guessed the real reason the king kept the worst aspects
of the Banished camp from his daughter. He didn’t want to frighten me, or
make me worry what might have become of me if I weren’t so valuable to
the city.
If my father had remarried and given Yuan another queen, and if the
court advisors had reviewed my case and found me sufficiently tainted, I
might be living in that camp today.
“They live on the outskirts, and are fed and watered like animals.” I
swallow hard and continue. “They can’t own shops or work in the orchards
or come near our animals or children. They can’t have children of their own
or seek help from the healers. Their lives are often … cut short. I would like
to help them.”
Gem growls something in his language, really
my
monsters.”
I flinch. He’s right. I didn’t realize how right until I met him.
I had always taken for granted that the texts on the Monstrous were
correct and that outer mutation was a sign of a corrupt soul, of being not
entirely human. But that clearly isn’t always the case. There is nothing
hideous about Gem’s soul. The same might not be said for all his
people—certainly not for the one who slaughtered my father—but for
Gem, ugliness is superficial. Surely it could be the same with the people
forced into the camp at the edge of the city. If a Monstrous can be so
human, surely some of those Banished citizens of Yuan are more human
still.
“It isn’t fair, I know,” I say. “But—”
“And why are these people cast out?” he asks. “Because they have
scaled skin or are bigger than the other children?”
“I don’t know. It was all decided before I was born. But I
worry that mutations might be catching, beginning to infect those who
have always been immune. But if I can show them there’s a cure … or at
least a way to slow the process …” I clear my throat.
It’s difficult to talk about this with Gem. He doesn’t realize how
repulsive the Monstrous are to my people. He doesn’t think it odd that the
Monstrous grow plants to impede mutation but use them only for babies
born with scales covering their eyes, or in other rare cases where health is
threatened. He seems to think his people are beautiful.
“That’s why I need this garden,” I say, tugging another chunk of grass
from the earth and stuffing it into my pocket. “Why the city needs this
garden.”
“They don’t need a garden. They need a queen.”
I blink in the direction of his voice. “What does that mean?”
“You have more power than you think. You could put a stop to this
with a word.”
“I couldn’t.” I shiver at the thought. I can’t even convince Junjie to
change the seating arrangement in the great hall so that I don’t have to eat
on a pedestal at the center of all the gossip.
“Division makes a people weak,” he says. “My chief would never
allow this.”
“You don’t understand. I’m queen, but I’m not—”
“Excuses.” He grunts as he struggles to stand.
“It’s
still won’t listen to me. They’ll think—”
“It doesn’t matter what they think.” The sound of his hoe being flung
onto the dirt makes me flinch. “It only matters that they do what—”
“Move away from the queen!” The shout comes from the edge of the
field, making me flinch again.
be. He says it’s because his father asked him to keep a “special eye” on me.
. I don’t like the sound of it.
“It’s all right!” I call. “We’re only talking.”
“We’re finished talking.” Gem is already shuffling away. The rattle of
the chains hobbling his feet makes the skin at the back of my neck bunch. I
hate that sound. I hate that I’ve never had the courage to ask for the chains
to be removed. “Tell the guards I’m ready to go back to my cell.”
“Are you all right?” Bo squats beside me, his swift breath ruffling the
hair above my ear. I want to swat it away like an insect, but I don’t. Bo
hasn’t done anything inappropriate. Not really.
“I’m fine,” I say, forcing a smile.
It’s not Bo’s fault that I’m having a difficult time embracing our
impending betrothal. Junjie hasn’t said anything outright, but his
machinations aren’t as subtle as he believes. Bo is always seated next to me
at dinner, always the one chosen to deliver messages to my rooms, and the
only guard allowed to be alone with me. As soon as my mourning is over,
Junjie will be at the tower door with official betrothal documents in hand,
asking me to sign away what little freedom I’ve enjoyed since Baba’s death.
Bo is a good man, a good boy—only nineteen, the same age as
Gem—but even good men can make cruel jailors. My father locked my
mother in the tower for months before she made her fatal escape, and he
held me prisoner for years. What if Bo proves to be a king who prefers his
wife kept under lock and key?
I know it’s my duty to marry as soon as custom allows, but I can’t
help wishing I had more time to adjust to the idea, to adjust to Bo. He’s
attentive and flattering, but aside from his opinions on wine and music, I
don’t know much about him. I can’t seem to scratch the surface to find out
what—if anything—lies beneath.
Winter, as miserable as it is, can’t pass slowly enough this year.
“Are you sure?” Bo asks.
“I’m sure.” I brush the dirt from my hands, moving a degree away
from him in the process. “Gem’s only tired. His legs hurt. He needs an
escort back to his rooms.”
“Right away.” Bo calls to the other soldiers, clearly relieved to be rid
of our prisoner. He’s spoken to Gem a few times, but never more than a
word or two. Gem obviously makes him uncomfortable. I know Bo would
welcome an excuse to tell his father I shouldn’t be allowed to work with the
Monstrous anymore.
That knowledge makes me careful to remain calm as I call—
“Gem?”
“Yes, my lady?” The words are crisp, cutting in their politeness. I’m
the one who told him he must call me “my lady” when other people are
around, but at the moment I hate the sound of the words.
“Will you come to work tomorrow?”
“You’re the queen, my lady,” he says. “You don’t have to
away, the rattle of his chains banishing any whisper of protest.
He’s right. He
Yuan. In a city bought with blood, certain things will never change.
roses would cease to exist.
I fold my arms around myself, cold despite the layers I put on before
leaving the tower. I’m always cold, lately. There never seems to be enough
fire or hot tea or ginger soup to thaw the things frozen inside.
“What’s wrong?” Bo’s hand warms my knee. He’s settled down to sit