City of a Thousand Dolls by Miriam Forster

spoke sometimes when I was at the House of Jade. She was training to be an archivist. She loved history more than anything and would talk about it for hours.”
    Josei turned down the path that led to the armory, Nisha still trailing behind her. “Did Jina ever seem depressed? Or likely to take her own life?”
    “You mean commit suicide?” Nisha asked, startled.
    “She was poisoned,” Josei pointed out. “I don’t know how yet. That’s for the healers to determine. But I do know that poison is a popular choice for suicides.”
    Nisha’s mind rebelled at Josei’s assumption. “I can’t imagine Jina wanting to die. She was too absorbed. I don’t mean selfish,” she added, remembering the other girl’s smile as she handed Nisha her overrobe. “Just … preoccupied. Even finding Atiy’s body yesterday didn’t seem to sadden her. She was too busy taking notes.”
    Josei seemed to consider this for a moment; then she went into the armory. She emerged with two long lati sticks and tossed one to Nisha.
    “Come on,” she said, making the formal salute that Nisha recognized as both compliment and challenge. “I think better when I’m moving. Besides, I’ve been watching you practice. I’d like to test your skills.”
    Nisha made the ritual bow of acceptance. Her hands shook, and she gripped the bamboo staff firmly to make them stop. “This seems like an odd way to question someone,” she muttered to herself.
    Josei pretended not to hear her, but a wisp of a smile, like mist, passed across her face.
    They ran through the forms of the fight, the sticks swirling around them like a dance.
    “So Jina was there when Atiy’s body was found?” Josei asked, moving into an attack form, both hands on the staff and her right foot forward. “Did she say what she was doing at the House of Pleasure?”
    One end of Josei’s polished staff whipped down and Nisha pivoted, twisting her wrist to bring the low end of her stick up in a block. Their sticks had barely touched before Josei was moving into a defense position, with her knees bent and hands spread apart.
    “She said she was researching love poems,” Nisha answered. “I think it was part of her Redeeming presentation.” She brought her stick up, and Josei blocked it.
    “Good,” the House Mistress said, showing her teeth in a smile. “Now let’s really fight.”
    Nisha’s stick made a blur around her as she tried to get around Josei’s defenses. She whirled, aiming for the House Mistress’s knee, but Josei leaped away. She avoided the strike completely, and then swept her staff toward Nisha’s feet. “Did she say anything else?”
    Nisha stumbled out of the way, raising her staff to absorb the next blow. “She thought Atiy might have been killed by Shadow-walkers,” she said, then froze in horror.
    Josei aimed a blow at her head, and Nisha ducked too late. The metal-tipped staff struck her on the shoulder. Pain shot through her arm.
    “Don’t ever let down your guard while in the middle of a fight,” Josei scolded. Then, “Did you believe her? About the Shadow-walkers?”
    Nisha shook her head. “I told her they didn’t exist. If there was a House like that on the estate, I would know.” Nisha shifted into an attack stance and flung herself at the Combat Mistress, causing Josei to step back.
    “Would you?” Josei asked, blocking Nisha’s strikes as quickly as Nisha could make them.
    A thin trickle of sweat ran down Nisha’s temple, and she felt her respect for Josei increase. By keeping Nisha focused on the fight and distracted from Jina’s death, Josei was getting more honest answers than she might have if Nisha had had time to think about what she was saying.
    “Do you think Jina was poisoned because she found out something dangerous about the City?” she asked the Combat Mistress.
    “I think nothing,” Josei said calmly, pivoting gracefully. Her stick turned so fast that Nisha couldn’t follow its line of movement. “I’m gathering