The Lotus Thief novel · Chapter 2 of 32

Chapter 2: A Minister's Kindness

Krit arrives before the guard does and sends Bua away on a false errand, then tells Ton in a corridor that Fon's medicine stops tomorrow unless the lotus comes to him.

The guards came through the door with their swords still sheathed.

Behind them came a man in ivory silk.

Minister Krit.

He took in the room in one slow sweep.

The prince dripping on the tiles.

The thief with a lockpick at the prince's throat.

The lacquer box open on the shelf.

"Your Highness," Krit said. "The King has asked for you."

Bua's hand didn't move off Ton's wrist.

"My father is asleep at this hour."

"He woke. He's asking for you by name."

Krit's voice was mild and courteous.

"Twice this week he's asked and twice you didn't come," he said.

"The court notices these things."

Bua's jaw tightened.

Ton felt the small shift of pressure in the wrist.

Then the grip opened.

Bua stepped back. Water ran off him onto the tiles.

"Keep him here," he told the guards.

"Of course," Krit said.

Bua pulled a robe off the hook and walked out with it hanging open.

His footsteps faded down the corridor.

The two guards stayed by the door.

Krit looked at the lacquer box.

Then he looked at Ton.

"Come," he said.

He walked out.

Ton didn't move.

"Come," Krit said again, from the corridor. "Or I'll have you carried."

Ton followed.

The corridor outside the bath house was long and white.

At midday it was empty. No scribes. No maids. No one to see.

Krit stopped by a window and folded his hands.

"You are Ton. Twenty-nine."

"You sell herbs in the west market and you steal from the palace at night."

"You've had me watched."

"Everyone is watched. Most people are simply not interesting."

Krit smiled, and the smile was warm and did not touch his eyes.

"Your sister is Fon. Twenty-two."

"She has a wasting fever."

"She has been treated by a physician in the lower town for eleven months."

"Paid for in silver, and lately in rings."

Ton's mouth went dry.

"The rings were my mother's."

"I know. You sold three. The fourth you still wear."

Krit glanced at Ton's hand.

Ton put his fist in his sash.

"The physician's last note says the fever has reached her lungs," Krit said.

"The next medicine is a root from the eastern hills."

"It costs more than you have and more than you will have."

"You've read her notes."

"I've read everything."

Krit reached into his sleeve and brought out a small brown bottle.

He held it up between two fingers.

"This is one dose. It will quiet her for a week."

Ton's hand came out of his sash.

Krit moved the bottle back out of reach.

"Not yet."

"What do you want?"

"Straight to it. Good."

Krit turned the bottle slowly.

"The map in that box leads to Nam Kwan."

"In the lake there is a lotus. The origin lotus, the AdiPadma."

"You are going to bring it to me."

"Nobody's ever come back from the Chandra Forest."

"Then you'll be the first, and the story will be about you."

Krit put the bottle back in his sleeve.

"Your sister will have her medicine every week until you return."

"And after you return, she'll have a physician in the palace."

"A bed. A window with sun in it."

Ton said nothing.

"If you refuse, the medicine stops tomorrow."

"The physician in the lower town will be told to send her home."

"She'll last a month, perhaps two."

"She's done nothing."

"No," Krit agreed. "She hasn't. That's what makes her useful."

Footsteps came down the corridor.

A maid with a basket of linens bowed low and hurried past.

Krit waited until she was gone.

"You'll leave the city before dawn."

"There's a checkpoint at the north road. Say you're a herb-buyer from the hills."

"They won't stop you."

"The prince saw my face. He knows the market."

"The prince will be busy."

"He'll remember."

"His Highness remembers very little that doesn't concern himself," Krit said.

"And in any case, he'll be told you were a market thief who got away."

"A small thing. He'll forget by dinner."

Ton looked at the window.

Through it, past the wall, the roofs of the lower town.

Close enough to walk to.

"One question," he said.

"Ask."

"If I bring you the lotus, what do you do with it?"

Krit's face didn't change.

"That isn't your concern."

"It grows in a lake. It's the only one."

"And the King is dying," Krit said. "Yes. I know."

He said it the way you'd say the weather.

"Bring me the lotus and your sister lives. That's the whole of the bargain."

"Do you accept it?"

Ton thought about Fon's room in the lower town.

The window that faced a wall.

The bowl by her bed that she was too weak to carry out herself.

"Yes," he said.

"Good."

Krit reached into his sleeve again and brought out the brown bottle.

He held it out, and Ton's fingers closed around it.

The glass was cold.

Then Krit's hand closed over Ton's hand, and the bottle, and squeezed.

The bottle came out of Ton's fingers.

Krit lifted it and held it up between them.

"One more thing," he said.

"Please don't."

"The prince caught you in his bath today."

"If you ever tell him anything about this, or about me, this bottle is the last medicine your sister ever sees."

"I said yes."

"You did."

Krit opened his fingers.

The bottle fell.

It hit the white stone floor and broke.

The brown glass scattered.

The dark medicine spread across the tile in a thin shining line.

Then Krit put his heel on the biggest piece and ground it down until it cracked into powder.

He lifted his foot and looked at it.

"Shame," he said. "You'll have to hurry."

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