Spin the Dawn(23)

Why is she here? I wondered as the tailors and I murmured our greetings to the shansen’s daughter.

“I’ve decided this challenge is too simple,” Lady Sarnai announced. “I am flattered His Imperial Majesty has bidden you to embroider slippers for me, but I have plenty. So I have decided to ask for something more—unique.

“As empress, I will welcome visitors from all over the world. A’landan slippers are revered for their beauty and adherence to tradition. But in Samaran, the queens wear slippers made of iron, and in Agoria, the princesses wear shoes wrought of gold. I would like a pair that embodies such strength and power, yet is pleasing to the eye.”

A servant entered and set down a stack of blue porcelain plates. Then another brought glass bowls, glass vases, and fluted wine vessels. Soon the front table was piled with objects from paper to straw to bronze, even flowers.

Master Taraha asked what everyone was wondering: “Your Highness, a tailor does not usually work with porcelain or glass or—”

Lady Sarnai cut him off. “The imperial tailor is a master chosen by the gods. I expect him to be able to work with any material, whether it be glass or silk. Or even the air, should I ask it. If that is a problem, you are welcome to go home.”

That ended the questions.

Lady Sarnai turned on her heel, and Minister Lorsa hurried after her.

As soon as they were gone, the tailors dashed for the table. I lurched forward, hobbling as fast as I could with my cane, but someone kicked it from my hand and I fell hard.

Longhai pulled me up with a strong hand. “Hurry, Tamarin, before everything’s taken.”

Master Garad had already snatched the straw, and the others went for the bronze and iron and paper. By the time I reached the table, only the glass and porcelain items were left. Norbu took the porcelain plates at the last minute, leaving me with glass.

Master Boyen peeked over my screen. He held a handful of orchids and was already weaving the leaves and stems into the shape of a slipper. “Ohhh, glass.” He tsked with false sympathy. “That’s going to be difficult.”

“I’ll manage,” I said through my teeth.

“I’m looking forward to seeing what you do this time,” Boyen said. “We were all so impressed by your shawl, even Yindi is jealous. Best not to rile the old man too much. Glass breaks so easily, and we don’t know who spilled tea on your shawl, do we?”

I glared at him until he left.

Then, with a sigh, I set my materials on my table. What did I have to work with? A pair of glass bowls and a tall, slender vase. Scoring and staining the glass would be easy enough. But making slippers with it?

I gripped the edge of my stool, envisioning slippers made out of glass. Each idea ended with them shattering.

Unless…they were already shattered.

My mind raced furiously to come up with a plan. I took a wide brush and painted the inside of the vase with my pea-flower-blue dye. As it dried, I ran to the kitchen and came back with a sticky rice mortar that I’d use for glue.

Carefully, I lined my work area with a long scrap of muslin. Then, holding up my cane, I slammed the vase over and over until a thousand broken shards glittered on my table like blue diamonds.

One by one, I glued the shards over the base of the slippers. The glass cut into my fingers, making them bleed, but I bandaged them with scraps and kept going. I wouldn’t stop until every inch of the shoe sparkled.

I would create something stunning. And I didn’t need my scissors to do it.



* * *



? ? ?

On the day of our judgment, Lady Sarnai returned in the morning, accompanied by Minister Lorsa and the Lord Enchanter. Seeing the Lord Enchanter did nothing to soothe my already anxious nerves, but I did my best to ignore him and attended to bandaging my fingers and sweeping the leftover glass from my table. I wanted to collapse on my stool out of exhaustion, but I stood in front of my station like the other tailors to await Minister Lorsa’s announcement.

He declared, “Each tailor will wear his slippers to present to Lady Sarnai.” Lorsa chuckled. “If he is unable to take eight steps in them, he will be sent home.”

Relief washed over me as I slipped on my glass shoes. They fit easily and weren’t too difficult to walk in, but I saw Longhai staring down in dismay at his large, swollen feet.

The old tailor had been kind to me. I didn’t want to see him eliminated over this silly challenge.

Pretending to practice moving in my slippers, I walked across the hall toward my friend.

“Walk on your toes,” I advised him quietly as I passed his station. “It’s only a few steps.”

Longhai sent me a grateful look. He wasn’t the only one struggling. The sight of Yindi tottering about in his slippers, cursing his “demon’s luck,” almost made me pity him.

Lady Sarnai seemed amused by everyone’s discomfort. But miraculously, nearly everyone walked in his slippers without breaking them, except Master Garad, whose feet were so wide that his straw slippers collapsed.

Lady Sarnai lifted her chin, and he was dismissed.

I noticed then that the Lord Enchanter had disappeared from her side. His stride was so quiet I barely noticed him approaching my station.

“You’ve quite a dainty pair of feet for a boy,” he said, pointing at them with his shiny black boot. Light refracted off my blue glass slippers, like a thousand bright stars swirling across the wooden floor. “You made them all by yourself?”