WHEN JI CREPT forward, the leaves carpeting the floor crunched underfoot. The braided stems of desert lotus curled around the urns and shivered in the faint breeze. A dozen flowers bloomed, each of them bringing—according to the baroness—a different blessing. Roz said it was just superstition, because the blossoms looked like dragon heads, but that didn’t exactly calm Ji’s nerves.
He slipped between two urns and found the blossom that the baroness said had bloomed when Brace came to the manor . . . and the night birds fell silent.
Like they’d heard something.
Ji’s blood turned to ice. Was someone there? Was something watching? He stared into the darkness beyond the jade wall. The only sound was the chirp of a cricket. After a moment, he put his hand on the lotus blossom.
The vine trembled, and Ji whispered, “Sorry.”
He plucked the petals and let them fall to the ground. He checked that he hadn’t missed any . . . and heard voices from the courtyard beyond the jade wall.
A goblin was saying, “. . . is a child in the ka-rypts. It ka-ame to the pen, yes, very polite.”
It was the small goblin that the one-eyed goblin had sent away! A noose of fear tightened around Ji’s neck. Why? Why would the goblins tell on them? And who would they tell? Clumsy with dread, he backed into an urn and almost fainted at the clink-scrape as it shifted.
“Which child, you filthy gob?” Butler’s voice snapped.
With his heart thrashing like a mermaid’s tail, Ji scrambled through the shadows toward the jade-studded door.
“A human child,” the goblin said. “All loo-ka the same.”
The glow of lanterns seeped through the jade wall. Dropping to his hands and knees, Ji crawled toward the door, his vision narrowing into a terrified tunnel.
“If he got this far,” Butler said, “he’ll hang for desecrating the dead.”
“Dese-ka-rating,” the goblin agreed.
The light grew brighter, and Ji lunged through the jade-studded door.
“What hap—” Sally started.
“Shhh!” Ji hissed, closing the door. “Butler’s here. The goblins told on us.”
“That little one that ran off?” Sally snarled.
Ji nodded, and Roz pressed her hand to her chest. “Did he see you?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Thank summer,” she breathed.
Sally frowned. “Is the flower dead?”
“Yeah.” Ji brushed past her. “And if Butler catches us, so are we.”
He raced down the stairs, his heart galloping and his sandals slapping. Behind him, Sally urged Roz to move faster, but he didn’t wait for them. If he reached the goblin pen first, he’d trick Butler or distract him. Heck, he’d make ghost noises if he had to.
He ran across the circular burial preparation chamber. He dashed up the first few steps that led back toward the pen. He trotted up the next few steps. Then he trudged painfully higher, his lungs burning and his thighs aching.
Finally, he dragged himself to the top of the stairs and stumbled to the chamber with the five tunnels. He staggered to the ramp that led into the “ruined temple”—and a hand grabbed his arm.
“Ai!” he squawked, his fear of goblin claws sharpening into panic. “No!”
“Yes,” Butler said, standing over him.
“Oh! Um! Butler! Hi?”
Butler shook him fiercely. “You’re in trouble now, boy.”
The ache in Ji’s shoulders turned into a burn. Tears sprang to his eyes. “I—I’m not—I’m only exploring! I didn’t do anything!”
“And the lotus flower?” Butler’s nostrils flared. “The one that bloomed when Master Brace arrived just happened to die tonight?”
“The—the what? Did what?”
Butler dragged Ji up the ramp toward the temple. “Where’s the stable girl?”
“I’m alone!” Ji shouted, loud enough to warn Sally and Roz. “There’s nobody else! I’m sorry, Butler! I didn’t do anything, I promise—”
“You entered the mausoleum.”
“I stopped at the stairs.” Ji swallowed a lump in his throat. “I got scared and came back.”
“You’ll hang for this, boot boy.”
“I didn’t do anything,” he sniffled, trying to make himself sound even more pathetic than he felt.
“You’re lying to me.”
“It’s the truth,” Ji lied. “I swear.”
Butler shoved him across the big room with the bonfire. Ji fell on the dirt floor, and pebbles stung his palms. He blinked his wet eyes toward the goblins shuffling against the rough-hewn walls. They woofled nervously and looked at the ground, like they were afraid of Butler. Ji knew exactly how they felt.
“You lying peasant,” Butler said, and kicked him in the side.
“Please!” Ji curled into a ball on the ground. “Please, don’t tell anyone! Don’t turn me in!”
“You insulted the Primstone family.”
“I didn’t mean to—”
Butler kicked him again. “You dragged your filthy self onto sacred ground.”
“I—I only went to the stairs. I never—”
Butler drew back his foot to kick Ji again, and Sally shouted, “Get away from him!”
Ji groaned. Why hadn’t Sally stayed hidden? Now that Butler knew Ji lied about being alone, he wouldn’t believe anything.
Sally climbed into the big room, brandishing her shovel. “You should be ashamed! Kicking him while he’s down.”
Ji appreciated that, though he didn’t see what was better about being kicked while he was up, to tell the truth.
“You’re still standing, stable girl,” Butler said, his thin lips drawing downward. “Maybe I’ll kick you instead.”
“Just—” She raised her shovel, her eyes wild. “Leave us alone.”
“You’re a shiftless little vandal like your mothers.”
With a howl, Sally swung the shovel at Butler—but his bony arm swept out and slapped it from her hands. The shovel blade hit the ground with a ringing clang, and Butler boxed Sally’s ears. She reeled. He knocked her around a little, but Ji didn’t watch. He was too busy staring at a faint pink dress barely visible at the top of the ramp, mouthing “No!” and shaking his head fiercely.
The last thing he needed was for Butler to discover Roz, too. Then he and Sally would be in even worse trouble—if that was possible—for corrupting the morals of a young lady. When the pink dress disappeared back down the ramp, Ji almost sighed in relief.
Except Butler was still shaking Sally and saying, “You’ll both dangle from the gallows. We’ll bring a picnic and watch you hang.”
Ji pushed to his knees. “Butler, sir! I need to tell you—”
“What?” Butler snapped, turning to him. “More lies?”
“Sally didn’t do anything. I did what you said, but Sally didn’t do anything wrong.”
Butler’s nostrils flared again. “She didn’t, did she?”
“No, sir.”
“Other than try to hit me with a shovel.”
“Well, yeah. Other’n that.” Ji rose painfully to his feet. “She just came along because I was scared of the crypt. She didn’t go where she’s not allowed.”
“So you admit that you went into the mausoleum?”
Ji swallowed. “Yes, sir.”
“So you’re the only one who needs hanging,” Butler said.
“Yes, sir,” Ji repeated.
“Ji!” Sally peeked at him from between her arms, which she’d raised to protect her face from Butler’s blows. “Shut your ricehole!”
“No, I have to tell him the whole truth this time,” Ji told Sally, trying to calculate exactly how little truth he needed to admit.
He’d claim that Brace gave him permission to sneak through the crypts and inspect the flower, to check how healthy it looked. But he found it dead and ran away in a panic. Yeah, that way he might get off with just a whipping.
As long as Brace backed him up. Which he would. They’d spent months together, playing with toy soldiers, reenacting battles, and killing ogres. They were almost friends. Brace definitely wouldn’t let him hang for this. Well, probably not. Well, maybe not. . . .
Still, it was his only hope. So Ji took a breath and told Butler, “The truth is, um, that I snuck in to look at the flower. But I didn’t touch it! And I had permission.”
“You did, did you?” Butler asked, his nostrils narrowing angrily.
Before Ji could answer, a figure stepped inside the pen. The bonfire flared, and the goblins dropped to their knees, belly-arms folded and heads bowed.
The figure peered toward Ji. “Is that the young gentleman?”