Chapter Two

The final three days leading up to her birthday were painful. Despite his claims to give Emilyn freedom before the ceremony, Master Koril sent his daughter to a succession of Mahru, the holy men and women who studied all things religious, for “preparation”. It gave her little time to collect all the things she needed. Finally, Emi arranged the gathered gear across her bedspread: two blankets, a box of matches she'd found in a drawer in the hutch, her hair comb, a pen knife her father had given her for her tenth birthday, a few of her brushes and pots of paint, all the lei she had saved up and some she had “borrowed” from the money pot in the hall, and a spool of string. Her grandfather had always kept a length of rope in his pocket.

She tucked everything away in a leather sack, and hid it under her bed. Hopefully the servants wouldn't come round to clean today. She bent down to push the bag farther back. When she stood up once again, her eyes came to rest on a family portrait she had painted. The portrait was mounted on the wall, so Emilyn had to stand to examine it closer. She might never see her family again if she left. If she stayed, she wouldn't see them either.

Emilyn shivered. She'd heard the horror stories about what happened when the City of Circles was supposed to be asleep. It sounded like a lot of the citizens were doing anything but sleeping.

Her last day before the True Sight ceremony was a blur. Emilyn stood in the fitting room of the palace seamstress, waiting patiently as the elderly woman tied the bow of her obi. The traditional white silk kimono finally fit Emilyn like it was supposed to, after countless adjustments. She'd grown at least an inch in the past few months. She barely recognized herself in the mirror. The dress showed off her height and slim figure much better than the cotton yukata dresses she usually wore. Too bad she would never get to wear it again.

When she emerged from behind the curtain, Emilyn's mother clasped her hands to her heart.

“You look gorgeous dear,” she sighed, and Emilyn felt a twinge of guilt.

...

“Has anyone seen the matches?” her mother called out from the dining room. “I swear they were right here in this drawer!” Emilyn looked down at her feet.

The dinner gong rang just as her mother finished lighting the candles standing guard at the table. The room was filled with the whisper of silk as the family seated themselves. Emilyn forced herself to meet her parents' eyes. She hoped that they would attribute her fidgeting to excitement and not to the worry that was growing inside her like a weed.

The servants had prepared a special feast for Emilyn's last night as a child. They brought out platter after platter of food: sushi, pork fried rice, gyoza dumplings, shrimp tempura and okonomiyaki pancakes with all of her favourite toppings. Her taste buds danced to the delicious smells that wafted upwards from the steaming array of delicacies, but the weed in her stomach had grown so large there wasn't much room for food left.

“Big day tomorrow,” Leisha said to break the silence. Emilyn was finding it difficult to keep hold of her chopsticks just thinking about it. “I can't wait until you see the dress, Niko. Emilyn looks absolutely stunning!”

“I'm sure,” Master Koril tried to sound interested, but his mind was not on his daughter's appearance. “How was your session with Mahri Tureo?”

Tureo was the chief of the Mahru. He was a kind and gentle man; he had actually asked Emi how she felt prior to her big day.

“Good, father. I think I'm ready now,” Emilyn smiled sweetly, hoping she wasn't piling the sugar on too thick. She was never going to be ready. If all went as planned, she wouldn't have to be.

The little of the feast Emilyn had eaten was delicious, but nonetheless she was happy when dessert was served at the end of the meal. She feared that her parents were beginning to see through her charade.

A servant brought out a plate of daifuku cakes, piled up in a pyramid. Willow grabbed one as soon as the woman had set it down.

“Willow! Manners!” her mother scolded, but Willow had already taken a bite. Niko emerged from his thoughts and picked up one of the cakes. He rolled it between his thumb and forefinger before looking at Emi.

“Tomorrow is a fresh start for you, Emilyn.”

“Yes, father. I-”

“It's about time you did something with your life,” he took a bite of his daifuku. Leisha opened her mouth to scold him, too, but decided against it. The conversation was over before it began. Silence descended like a blanket; the heavy wool kind that would suffocate you as you slept. Even Willow was quiet. Emilyn could take it no longer. She stood up; her chair clattering to the floor, and ran to her room.

Emilyn lay sprawled out on her bed, her face buried deep in her pillow to try and hold back her tears. The sinkhole of her father's disappointment was tugging her down deeper and she struggled to fight it. No matter how hard she tried to please him, Emilyn was never enough to break loose. This was her last chance. Balling her fists, Emi straightened up. She gasped for air. With every lungful she took in, she felt the sinkhole loosening around her. She would escape. She was going to leave and start her own life, away from her father. Her whole life the sinkhole had been sucking her farther into her father's world, and if she waited any longer she would be stuck for good.

Wilfully avoiding the True Sight ceremony was a serious offence. It was a smack at the Gods, saying that you put more faith in your own guidance than in theirs. People convicted were chained to a tree deep in the Forest of Sins, with no food or water for the rest of their short lives. Unless, that is, the Gods decided to liberate them, and the Gods were seldom forgiving to those who had snubbed them.

It was certain that she would be hunted down for committing such a crime, and by none other than her own father, the Council member in charge of law and order. In short, there was little chance she would get away unscathed. Her father wasn't the sort to make exceptions. As soon as he had attained his post as overseer of the law, he had turned his father in for polluting the Temple with his cough. Needless to say, Master Niko Koril's family relations were rocky after that.

But that would only happen if she was caught. She would just have to make certain she wasn't. She'd run away into the country if she had to; the bears would be more forgiving than her father. At least they wouldn't judge her. Emi wiped the tears from her eyes. The last rays of sun were peeking through her window. It was still too early to make her escape, as her mother might come in and check on her, like she usually did before bed. She would probably come in soon to make sure Emilyn was alright.

Sighing, Emilyn changed into her night robe. She may as well get a little sleep before she made a break for it. If her mother came in and saw her fully clothed, her plan would be revealed.

An owl hooting outside woke Emilyn up several hours later. The moonlight trickled in her window only made the corners of her room look darker. Emilyn fumbled around under her bed for her pack, drawing it out by one worn leather strap. She made a few last minute preparations, stuffing a worn old dress in the pack, along with some loose-legged zubon pants and tunics. The silk kimonos and tailored cotton yukatas her mother bought for her would be a beacon to pick pockets on the City streets.

She only had one thing left to do. The hall was deserted, but she could hear voices coming from her parent's bedroom. Emilyn had planned to creep toward the kitchen service door in the dining room, but her curiosity got the better of her.

She didn't have to go anywhere near their room to hear what they were arguing about. Emilyn could breathe easily, knowing they wouldn't hear her over their shouting match.

“Don't you think that was a bit harsh?” yelled her mother's voice.

“She has to know what I expect of her,” Emilyn could tell her father was trying keep his voice down so as not to wake Willow, but he was failing.

“Well maybe you expect too much!”

“Someday she'll be glad I-” Emi turned back toward the dining room. Her hurried steps echoed down the long hallway, but her parents were too busy yelling to notice. At last she reached the dining room and slipped into the kitchen through the service door. She froze, anticipating having to allow her eyes a few minutes to adjust to the kitchen's dark interior, then realized she didn't have to. A lit candle was mounted in a wall sconce. She wasn't alone.