Sneak Peek: A Memory of Nightshade

The Inspection

Jessamine sat in a chair positioned in front of one of the tall windows—in what she had learned the Calyx referred to as “the tailors’ den”—where the morning light fell over her face. All around her Calyx sat at vanity tables, doing their own makeup or letting another do it for them, as Rose was doing for Jess. Makeup was not commonly used by the Calyx since the flora magic gave them an otherworldly beauty that didn’t need to be accentuated—except for Jess, who looked no different than when she’d arrived. Aster had comforted her by saying that flora fae changed at their own pace and there was nothing to be worried about. When Jess complained that Peony had changed so much that she looked like she’d been in the Calyx for years, Aster had murmured, “But she’s a prodigy.”

Jess couldn’t tell if the comment had been sarcastic or not.

The tailors’ den didn’t have the air of buzz and excitement that it usually had before performances. The Calyx had been told that they were going to be inspected, but not by who, nor why. They’d been instructed to remain quiet and calm—just to stand in place for the duration.

The articles that Olinya and her team had unearthed for the Calyx to wear transcended any outfit Jessamine had worn or seen before. These were outfits of stunning design and proportion. Costumes. Already a few of the Calyx had finished their hair and makeup and were being dressed on the second level in front of the mirrors. Diaphanous gowns with crystals sewn into the fabric, structured suits with wide sweeping features at the shoulders to accentuate masculinity. Headdresses for some, tiaras for others, incredibly high hairstyles that required pounds of pins and a fixative to stay in place.

Some of the Calyx exchanged confused looks about how they were being prepared. Jess could see the questions in their eyes. Why so elaborate? Why the makeup? For an inspection? It didn’t make a lot of sense. Olinya, with her usual smile and good cheer, speculated that it might be a kind of inventory taking. Such had a thing had happened once or twice before. But when it came Jess’s turn to be dressed, she suspected that Olinya knew more than she was letting on. Her kind dark gaze had concern that wasn’t usually there. She tutted and murmured as Jess was enfolded and swallowed by her costume, then put final touches on Jess’s headpiece. When Olinya moved out of the way so Jess could see her reflection, she stared at herself with a species of horrified amazement.

She looked… well, like someone else. Which was entirely the point.

She’d been wrong; these weren’t costumes, they were distractions, disguises. They’d be presented to Captain Yorin looking completely different from how they normally looked, and worlds apart from how they had appeared when they’d performed at Rahamlar in veils and long-sleeved, high-necked gowns. Jess began to feel a little better as she turned this way and that, inspecting her disguise. Rose had applied cosmetics with a heavy hand, and cleverly: Jess appeared to have much juicier lips than she actually possessed, her cheek bones appeared wider and higher, her eyes looked properly huge, and the eyelashes that Rose had glued to her lids were pale green to match her gown and draw attention away from any fear in her gaze. Layer upon layer of pale green gauze cascaded over her hips and thighs, all the way to the floor. Strapped to Jess’s feet were a pair of platform shoes, invisible beneath the gown. They made Jess’s legs appear longer and brought her to a height similar to the most mature Calyx. Beazle couldn’t burrow his way into Jess’s hair, with its tight updo and coatings of glue, so Olinya installed a many-petaled rose blossom which he could hide beneath or inside.

Ilishec slipped between the mirrors. He inspected Jess with thoughtful satisfaction. “Wonderful job, Olinya. She looks like an entirely different creature. Turn for me Jess. How are the shoes? Giving you any trouble?”

“No. They’re fine.” Jess stepped off the platform and walked around, her spine erect and one hand on her hip, showing Ilishec how poised and confident she could look.

“Good.” Ilishec took her hands and looked into her eyes, his expression heavy. “Remember: honeysuckle, cleome, and ergeron. Think about no other botanicals but them. For today, they’re all you can conjure. The others do not exist.”

“I understand.” Ilishec and Rose had explained that these were her most benign and pleasantly scented plants.

“Do as I say, and they won’t identify you. I have every confidence.” He released her hands and stepped back.

Jess glanced in the mirror. Seeing herself this way made her feel less exposed—she barely recognized herself. But would it really be this easy? “Won’t the captain be upset that we are so heavily altered?”

The gardener pressed his lips into a line. “That’s his problem. When he made this agreement with King Agir, he didn’t stipulate what the Calyx were to wear. If he takes issue with it, then it’s too late. If he implies that we are hiding someone, we will ridicule him. He knows nothing of the Calyx, our routines, our practices. We are dressed this way because we have a private performance this afternoon.” He let out a long-suffering sigh. “I don’t even care if he doesn’t believe me. When he figures out that can’t nail down a perpetrator, that will be the end of it.”

Jess nodded, eager to get on with it. She wanted to get it over with now, plus her scalp was starting to itch and blinking felt weird.

At precisely ten-forty-five, the Calyx made their way to the little used ballroom. Staff stepped to the sides of the halls to let the Calyx pass, watching the fae with expressions of awe. Jessamine wondered what they’d been told, if anything. Fifty flora fae decked out in Olinya’s most extravagant costumes and wearing enough makeup for a circus must be a bit of a shock to the palace servers accustomed to seeing them bare-faced and wearing tunics and sandals.

Without any ceremony, the Calyx stepped into the large, windowless ballroom. It smelled musty, and the wooden floorboards creaked as they lined up in rows of ten.

Jess’s heart leapt when she as she saw that Captain Yorin was already there, flanked by two human soldiers; two unseelie soldiers were seated in a shadowy corner. With narrowed eyes, the captain watched the Calyx enter and arrange themselves into neat lines. The chandeliers and sconces were lit with etherlight, but they gave off a cold blue, different from the flattering amber lighting the Calyx had performed under in Rahamlar. Jess thought this must be Ilishec’s subtle way of expressing his annoyance with Captain Yorin. They’d be allowed to do an inspection, but the gardener didn’t have to like it or make it easy.

When Yorin uncrossed his arms, Jess’s pulse increased and she began to sweat. He held the torn sleeve from her tunic, the one she’d worn that night. When the captain held the sleeve down for a dog to sniff—a dog that had been sitting so still and quiet that Jess didn’t see it until it moved—Jess’s heart began to run hurdles.

She closed her eyes, swallowing down the lump in her throat, mind racing. Sifting mentally through her botanicals the way a chef picks through crates for the right produce, Jess banished all the toxic botanicals and focused on the three Ilishec had commanded. Honeysuckle: mountains and mountains of sweet, fragrant honeysuckle…

Yorin didn’t speak, didn’t address the Calyx, didn’t ask questions or complain about their ridiculous costumes and makeup. He didn’t need to, not with a hunting dog at his side. Jess opened her eyes just as Yorin unsnapped the hound’s leash. With an upward glance and a couple of tail-wags, the dog sniffed the sleeve one last time then trotted across the floor to the nearest Calyx: Proteas. Quickly moving on, the hound sniffed its way through the fae, pausing here and there. The speed with which it moved through the company was a little disconcerting.