The Unknown Arts 6: Thief (Patreon)

“We can’t have you going to the Banquet looking like this,” said Mother. “I won’t allow it.”

“What? Why?” Ruyi did a little turn before the full-length mirror. She had on a blue dress which had no tears or stains as far as she could tell. “It looks fine to me. Even Father says so.”

“Oh, honey...” By the way Mother was looking at her you’d think she was in rags. “Father has no taste, despite my best efforts. You really shouldn’t trust his opinion on fashion. You really shouldn’t trust his opinion on a lot of things, come to think of it. Turn around.”

As she did, Mother strapped a tape measure around her waist. “Raise your leg.”

She still wasn’t sure what to make of Mother. She had to admit she’d underestimated the woman—she’d never seen anyone win an argument against Father. For a while she hadn’t thought it possible.

“How’d you get him to let me go? To the banquet, I mean.”

“After a decade together I’ve learned how to wrangle the man.” Mother was squinting at the tape measure tightened around her thigh like it might contain the secrets of the universe. “You have to speak his language. I merely pointed out—raise your arm, there’s a good girl—I pointed out the possible… political advantages.”

“Heh?”

“The banquet isn’t merely a celebration. It’s a chance for all of the Dynasty’s major powers to mingle. A great deal of political action happens on one night—straighten the arm, please, no, the other arm—there we go—including matchmaking.”

“Matchwhat.” She felt the measuring tape tighten around her neck like a noose.

“There’s no need to make a decision yet!” said Mother. “It’s just good for you… and for the rest of the boys your age…to see what’s out there.”

Next up on Mother’s quest to assign a number to every inch of her was her bust.

“Hmm.” In Ruyi’s experience, Jin aside, boys were nasty, smelly creatures who were far too loud. The older she got, the more prone they were to staring at her—and not in a good way. They were more fascinated with her chest than even Mother was right now, and she doubted it was because they planned on buying her a dress. She had serious trouble imagining spending her life with one.

Besides… “I don’t have a core. Will they even want me?”

“We’ll make them want you,” said Mother, which would’ve been more reassuring if it hadn’t been preceded by a long pause.

***

Mother insisted on taking her shopping in the Upper City. A half-hour-long carriage ride deposited them at the District of Wonder. It was a district of circular streets like the rings on a tree. The widest ring did a poor job living up to the district’s name; it had mostly small-time shops, some peddling secondhand knickknacks, others selling burnt sausages and the like. The streets were bumpy and potholed. But go in a ring, and and the street was paved cobbles. Things started to sparkle in the windows. Go in a few more, and the street was flat marble. The shops grew from shoddy huts to proper stands of glass and stone. Five rings in and qi-lamps started cropping up, the shopkeepers wore spotless silk robes, and guards started to mill about.

“Our shop is in the Ninth Circle,” said Mother, ruffling her hair. “Only the best for my little Rue.” Ruyi still squirmed a little under the name. But maybe it was like breaking in a new shoe. She wondered if she’d ever get used to such open warmth. Still she could tell Mother meant well, so she smiled.

In the Eight Circle, they were stopped by that shrill crashing that Ruyi knew could only come from shattering glass.

She’d heard it with her face pressed up against a wall of it—then heard it over and over, replaying in her head, as she wasted away in a sick bed. Her breath was stolen from her. It felt like a cold hand had reached into her chest and was squeezing the blood out of her heart. Screams echoed down the street, echoed in Ruyi’s ears, and suddenly she was here and there, back in the upper rooms of the arena, fighting against a tide of panicked flesh, going under—

“Oh, dear,” said Mother blandly. “It seems there’s trouble.”

Trouble careened around the corner in the form of a carriage tugged by a panicking horse. The carriage careened dangerously, shedding crystals at every lurch. Crystals with these shining vortexes swirling at their centers—spirit stones, and high-grade ones at that.

And Ruyi couldn’t move. She tried, desperately, but all she could manage was trembling.

Guards rounded the corner in a stumbling mess. “Demon cult!” came the cries. “Stop them!”

“The demon cult? Here?” said Mother. She could’ve been discussing the weather. “I suppose I’d better do something. Else your Father might be upset with me.”

She winked.

“Mother?” croaked Ruyi as her Mother strode into the middle of the street, putting herself right in the path of the cart. “Mother?!”

The horse, bucking and skittering, had too much momentum. It saw Mother too late. It tried jerking out of the way, but it was no use.

At the last possible second, when Ruyi was sure it’d run her over, Mother sidestepped and slashed. The horse, suddenly freed from its burden, was sent tumbling through a window. Its rider was less lucky—he hit store’s sign face first and crumpled. The carriage skidded to a screeching halt, showering sparks.

And the would-be thieves tumbled out.   They rounded on mother, auras flared, murder in their eyes. These were no petty thieves. The power massing at their fingertips put them at Foundation level, at least—and their leader, this big bald bastard, let his aura shine willy-nilly. Core Formation, rare even in the Upper City.

Mother’s face stunned her. So bored, so cold—like she was some God staring down would-be sacrifices and finding them unworthy.

The ugly bastard sneered, opened his mouth to spit something. But Mother seemed to think there was no need for conversation, since she just attacked. Or so Ruyi assumed. She didn’t see it happen, only the aftermath. Seven lines were seared into the air—seven slashes so bright they were burned into her eyes. When she blinked she could still see them streaking across the backs of her eyelids. Bodies falling screaming, clutching at their legs and their backs.

There was mother on the other side. She had no sword but her knees were red with blood. So were her elbows and her forearms. Her dress was split down the arms, up the legs, and when she looked at Ruyi now Ruyi flinched. Her eyes were like a dead person’s.

“What did you do?” Ruyi whispered.

Mother blinked, then smiled sheepishly. The look was gone. “Nothing serious! I just relieved them of their tendons, that’s all. It’s best to let the courts deal with them, I think.” She wasn’t breathing hard—she wasn’t excited at all. If anything she seemed much calmer than usual.

“Oh, dear,” she said, grimacing down at her clothes. “I got wet. These will need some replacing. It’s a good thing we’re headed to the tailor’s right?” She winked.

“Yeah…” said Ruyi, still dazed. “Yeah.”

***

In the Ninth Circle, the innermost circle, the streets were patterned like tortoise shells. They were made of jade, which should’ve been hideously expensive, except there wasn’t much to pave. Only a select few, the best of the best, got a spot here. A Rune Shop, a Blacksmith’s, an Alchemist’s shop with a Guild Logo—a golden cauldron—stuck to it, managed by a certain ‘Grandmaster X. Pun.’ There was an herb store overgrown with vines; living plants snapped at her through the windows. She tried to talk Mother into getting one, was told no, but kept asking and fluttering her lashes. At first Mother’s expression was icy like Father’s, but it was a poor impression. After the third ‘please’ you could see it melt in real-time, starting with a nibbling at the lips. Ruyi walked out of the store with a species called ‘Fanged Mousetrap’ whose favorite meal was pleasantly self-explanatory.

Unlike stores in the outer rings, which displayed their personalities timidly, every building here proclaimed itself. There was a teahouse shaped like a kettle, a butchery with giant bloody knives hung over the door.

They arrived at the Tailor’s, shaped like a spool of thread. Inside was a tiny old man whose eyes popped when he saw Ruyi. He seemed very eager to get his hands on her—‘for the measurements, of course’—and was quite disappointed when Mother handed them over on a sheet of paper. She left with a blue silk hanfu which Mother insisted was stunning. It was very loose around the arms and made a death grip around her waist. Honestly she couldn’t really tell the difference between this and her usual cotton dress, other than comfort. But it seemed to please Mother.

“Just wait till they see you,” she crooned. “You’ll be the talk of the Banquet!”

Her, strolling down the banquet floor, head held high. Handsome boys lining up to kiss her hands, beautiful girls giggling at her elbows…

Ruyi did like the idea of it. Liked it quite a lot.

***

Once they were all dolled up and packed into a carriage, Father had huddled them. By his expression you’d think they were going to war and he was giving them a life-and-death briefing.

“You’ll be the talk of the banquet,” said Father. To Jin. “Every eligible young woman will wish to be with you.”

For ninety-nine teenage boys out of a hundred, this probably sounded like Heaven. Then there was Jin, who looked to be in his own personal Hell.

“I see,” he said softly.

“All six Dukes and their families will be there, including your mother’s Li clan.” He nodded to Mother, who looked quite uncomfortable too. “Of those six Dukes, Duke Huo of the Phoenix Wing Prefecture has a daughter of twelve. And Duke Zhu of the Heavenly Bamboo Forest has a daughter of seventeen. It would do your family a service to speak to them. Discover if you are compatible.”

“In the end, it is your decision!” Mother was quick to say. She glared at Father. “We have agreed not to force anything upon you—”

“But remember,” said Father, undeterred. “That your decision reflects on your family.”

“Um,” said Jin. “I—I’ll try.”

“Good.”

“And what about me?” said Ruyi. “What should I do?”

Father frowned at her like he’d forgotten she was there. “Do whatever you like.”

“Don’t you want me to hunt down some—some eligible heir? Some Duke’s son?” She didn’t want to do it. She would’ve flatly refused him if he’d tried to make her. But she would’ve liked it if he’d at least thrown it up for her to slap down.

“These dukes see marriage as a means of propagating their lines,” said Father. “Who would wish to pass what you have onto their children?”

She felt like he’d slapped her.

Mother gave him a fierce jab in the ribs for that, but Father merely sighed. “I do not mean to hurt you, but that is the truth. It is better you know the truth now than blunder into it blind.”

“I… see,” said Ruyi slowly. She turned to the window so they couldn’t see her eyes. “Thank you.”

“Still,” mused Father. “We are a prestigious family. We may make use of you yet. The major powers will not waste a prime candidate on you, but that does not mean you are hopeless. See if you can make inroads with some lesser nobles, some failsons—perhaps a brother far from the line of succession.”

A silence.

“Ruyi?” She could hear the frown in his voice. “Did you hear me?”

“Yes,” she choked out. A pause. Then, harder, colder, without the slightest tremble in her voice—“I heard you.”