Death of a Sorcerer

Chapter 1

Tang Dynasty China, 850 A.D.

The warning Wei-wei's mother had given her when she'd left the family home to live in the lower wards of the imperial capital was to be careful.

"There are dangers out in the streets, daughter," Mother had said.

Wei-wei had been relieved. She'd been afraid Mother was going to provide advice on marriage. Or voice some complaint about her husband, even though Gao stood close enough to overhear. It was the Bai family mansion, after all. Mother was mistress of the house, free to speak her opinions.

Her mother used few words, so she took care to choose the sharpest ones lest her point be missed. Gao took Mother's disapproving look in stride, bowing solicitously. For someone who had faced the harshness of the street first-hand, her mother's cold glances were mere scratches. Gao also knew, with that uncanny instinct of his, that though his mother-in-law hadn't fully approved of their marriage, she was still—in an odd way—happy that her wayward daughter was at least finally married.

Wei-wei was happy when she and Gao were finally able to leave the shelter of the family mansion. She had cherished her excursions into the heart of the capital, to the night markets and tea houses. Now she was married, free of the walls that had enclosed her, with the entire world of the imperial city of Changan to explore. While Gao patrolled the streets as head constable, she was able to visit the markets, stroll the parks, go to temple whenever she pleased.

Wei-wei thought she'd made the transition to lower city life quite well. So when she stepped outside her new home that morning only to have some little scraggly street urchin run by and snatch her purse from her hands, she was in shock.

The skinny thing ran down the lane and disappeared into some nook while Wei-wei stood, flat-footed and staring. There were dangers out in the streets. Mother had been right.

A moment later, the boy re-appeared to scamper back toward her. His eyes were wide before he ducked his head.

"So sorry, Gao Taitai!" he squeaked, not looking at her as he shoved her purse into her hands, then disappeared once more.

After the strange exchange, she raised her parasol to shield herself from the sun before continuing on her journey. They were in the full of summer and even as early as it was the day was already warm. She wore the lightest of her robes, adding a red sash over the layers of pale green silk so as not to attract any wayward spirits.

It was the seventh month, when the gates of the underworld opened to allow ghosts to wander and visit the living. Today was the middle of the month, the day of the Hungry Ghost Festival, and Wei-wei had made arrangements to go to the temple with Yue-ying, her brother's wife.

Wei-wei waved down a sedan when she reached the end of the lane. Sweat poured down the runners back as he started toward the Pingkang li. The ward itself was notorious for the courtesan houses that made up the infamous pleasure quarter of the capital, frequented by scholars and bureaucrats.

Yue-ying's sister Mingyu had once been a celebrated courtesan. She had left that life behind for marriage. Mingyu now ran a tea house with her husband in the northern part of the ward which was where Wei-wei was headed now.

As the sedan moved through the streets, plumes of smoke rose from several doorsteps. It was customary to put out food to appease any hungry ghosts wandering by and burn ceremonial paper money as an offering. She herself had put out a bowl of millet with a salted egg on the altar in their house. The joss paper she would keep until sundownto burn. It was said the spirits were more active at night. It was how they had always done it in their family home.

Now she had her own home where she could carry on the same traditions.

They arrived in front of the tea house. Wei-wei paid the runner double his fare to account for the heat and then made her way to the door. Half of the tables inside were full, but there must have been a morning rush of customers as Mingyu was sitting, slumped in the corner, and looking exhausted.