The Innocence of Death

by E G Stone

  Dead to Rights

  I said a polite but firm no to a tour. Yolanda said yes. The troll pulled me aside to have a quiet word. I was fairly certain that the Ennedi Tiger, sitting in front of the place where we had come in and therefore blocking the exit, could hear everything we were saying. It made my stomach squirm.

  “We don’t have time for a tour,” I whispered, all the while keeping a jovial smile on my face. Just in case the Ancient One was watching closely.

  “We cannot disrespect our hosts,” Yolanda argued, also looking pleasantly serene.

  “You were the one who said that we can’t allow the imbalance to continue any longer,” I pointed out, nodding seriously. Yolanda allowed herself a small head-shake of disbelief before she smiled.

  “The purpose of the Order of Silence is the balance,” Yolanda said. “It would do no harm to allow a tour. You might even learn something without having to step on anyone’s toes to do it.”

  “Hey!” I protested. “I haven’t stepped on anyone’s toes yet. I have been attacked and kidnapped and murdered more than once. But I haven’t stepped on anyone’s toes.”

  “I wasn’t being literal,” Yolanda sighed. I frowned.

  “Neither was I.”

  Yolanda just stared at me, waiting. Almost pouting. I was the one who was meant to be in charge, here. She was my assistant. This was my investigation. But by George, Yolanda had me doing exactly what she wanted. I chalked it up to her knowing more about Elsewhere than I did. But after this whole debacle, we were going to have a serious talk about who was actually the boss.

  I turned to the Ancient One, a smile plastered on my face. “We’d love a tour!”

  “Good,” the small man nodded, making his tufts of hair bounce a little. He would have been a comical character if he weren’t so…I don’t know what it was, but something told me not to mess with him. Especially not with a giant feline killing machine sitting not too far away. Or with Mercy by his side.

  The tour started off with the main cavern—the entrance to the Order, which was reached by a symbolic representation of the balance that the Order loved so much. That is, it was connected symbolically to the place where Life and Death met, where the balance began, my host informed us with a fond smile. Apparently, that place was a graveyard. Any graveyard. Provided you knew how to contact the Order, that was the place you went. That bizarre and not terribly helpful explanation done, we went to the side caverns.

  “This is where we train our initiates in the art of balance,” the Ancient One said, sweeping a hand out to indicate the room. It was little more than a poorly lit bare cavern with a smooth floor, with a collection of people there. They were doing some sort of Tai Chi, except it wasn’t an individual sport. They were paired off, doing the slow motions against the other person, bringing their hands up to block or sweep or whatever the term was. As I watched, they slowly sped up, each hit coming faster and faster until it was nothing more than a blur.

  One of the pairs closest to us was going faster than the others. They looked like Mercy and Justice in their inhuman looks and their wind-like motions, only younger and less powerful: aurai. I was about to say something along the lines of, “Wow,” when one of the aurai hit the other directly in the chest. The aurai flew backwards, slamming into the wall.

  The room stopped moving. Every one of the people in pairs froze in whatever position they were in. Only their eyes tracked to their fallen compatriot. The aurai who had hit the wall managed a groan and tried to stand. Mercy barked out a harsh word that I couldn’t understand and the aurai stopped moving. The Ancient One tottered forwards and poked at the aurai with his staff.

  “Hmm…This one has not yet grasped the principles of balance,” he said, half to himself. “He will need reconditioning.”

  Two of the frozen people—more aurai, though they could have been elves—moved at his words and hauled the fallen one to his feet. They dragged him out of the room, the injured aurai letting out cries of protest. Silence reigned. Slowly, the others began to go through their movements again, starting at a snail’s pace and slowly growing faster. No one looked to the place where the fallen aurai had been taken.

  “What was that about?” I asked as we moved on. “And is everyone here an aurai?”

  “Not everyone,” Mercy said. “But many. It is a great honour for those of the air to be trained in keeping the balance. Life or death, the air does not care. It only keeps doing its job. For us, it is balance.”

  “Uh-huh. So what’s this ‘reconditioning’ thing?”

  “The initiate will be brought to understand the balance. To stand on the ledge between life and death and know what it means for balance to reign.” The Ancient One smiled serenely, leaning on his staff and blinking up at me with those wide eyes.

  “To stand on the ledge between life and death,” I muttered to Yolanda, trying to maintain a pleasant expression. “What does that mean?”

  Yolanda swallowed audibly, the sound echoing off the cavern walls. She blanched at the sound, turning a light greyish-green, and watched Mercy and the tiny man for any sign that they had heard. Then, she leaned over and breathed in my ear, “Torture. Until almost the point of death. And then brought back. Again and again and again.”

  I stopped moving, completely flabbergasted. How could this be possible? Scratch that. I knew how it could be possible, I just didn’t believe that anyone was crazy enough to want to do such a thing. It was cruel and beyond idiotic. To torture someone until they understood balance?

  I understood why and how Mercy could be an assassin.

  Bile rose in my throat, but I forced myself to swallow it down. There was nothing I could do that these people would listen to or understand. I didn’t have the resources to stop it. It might have been wrong, but I couldn’t do anything about it. Not without ruining any chance of fixing the balance that these people revered so much. And right now, with the task that I had been set, that was pretty much a bad idea.

  For the rest of the tour, I couldn’t help but see blood splattered in the shadows of the lights that flickered over the cavern walls. The people who passed us weren’t superstitious protectors of balance, they were zealots. And they smiled at me.

  The Ancient One jabbered away, describing scenes carved out of the stone in order to dedicate a life to the balance of art and immutability. There were caverns for every religion known to mortal and immortal kind. Christianity, Hinduism, Taoism, Judaism, Islam, Buddhism, Paganism, more. I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness as we passed these places that were meant to be sacred.

  I shook my head and stuffed my hands into my pockets, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. I tuned out the descriptions that the Ancient One was giving. These people who killed to protect the balance. Who tortured. Caused pain. Somehow, I doubt that causing suffering helped.

  Unfortunately, I also needed them, this Order of Silence. They had control of the Ennedi Tigers. So I walked along like a docile marketing agent. I let Yolanda do the talking, though, just in case I said something irreversibly stupid.

  Finally, we found ourselves in a small cavern that was decorated—disturbingly—much like my office. The desk was old and heavy wood, the chairs were modern and comfortable. The back walls had been carved out into bookshelves. There was no computer, but it was familiar enough to send shivers up my spine.

  “So,” the old man asked, sitting in his chair with an exhalation of relief. Yolanda and I sank carefully into the chairs opposite his desk. Mercy strode behind the desk to stand behind the Ancient One like some sort of sentinel. “Why did you call for an appointment?”

  I looked at Yolanda, who kept her mouth firmly closed. Now she was acting as my assistant, was she? Figures. Still, there was nothing else to do, so I spoke. My anger at the cruel idiocy of the Order might have coloured my words; they came out as more of a direct accusation than a question.

  “We learned that someone used an Ennedi Tiger in order to kill a human. One of Life’s
warriors or champions or whatever,” I said. “This person also decided to circumvent Death in the matter.”

  The old man’s staff clattered to the floor. Mercy’s every muscle tensed and she reached for the belt at her hip, where a knife was sheathed. I just sat there, pushed my glasses up my nose and let my lip curl ever so slightly.

  “The balance has been skewed?!” the Ancient One wheezed, holding a hand to his chest.

  “Indeed,” I monotoned.

  “This is terrible! For Death to gain power over Life, for the balance to have shifted…this could bring about the end of the world!” The Ancient One was almost shouting by the end of this statement. Mercy patted his shoulders gently. There was enough emotion in her normally emotionless face to tell me that she was shocked by the news as much as the Ancient One. That, or she was concerned for his reaction.

  “Death sent me and my assistant to fix this,” I said. I crossed an ankle over my knee and gave a hmmm. “Actually, in point of fact, Death sent me to find whoever has done this so he can fix it.”

  Mercy paled, her earthy skin looking sickly against her white hair. She may have had a smooth countenance, but there were some things you couldn’t hide. “You think that someone at the Order has done this?”

  “Why not?” I asked, shrugging. “You are, after all, the only ones that use Ennedi Tigers, aren’t you?”

  “Our tigers are trained to guard the balance!” the Ancient One insisted. “They would never be used in such a manner. They wouldn’t go against their training.”

  “Really? Then tell me who else trains these sabres and I’ll be on my merry way,” I said. The Ancient One and Mercy exchanged a glance. “I thought not. So, who has the influence to get an Ennedi Tiger to go against its training?”

  And, for that matter, who amongst these zealots would want to upset the balance?

  “No,” the Ancient One said, pounding his fist against the desk. “No one in the Order would dare go against the balance.”

  “Unless they were a traitor,” I pointed out. “Come, now, surely you can’t say that everyone is absolutely devoted to the balance? I mean, you torture people to break them into obedience.”

  “We condition their minds to understand what balance means,” Mercy said, her tone cold.

  “Torture is torture,” I replied, just as coldly. “These people aren’t giving their devotion of their own free will. They’re being broken into it. As far as I’m concerned, that just leaves a whole lot of people who have the means and motive to upset the balance.”

  “You don’t understand our ways, human. Every single one of those who comes to us knows what awaits them. They choose this life because to serve and protect the balance is supreme,” the tiny Ancient One said. He reached out his hand and his fallen staff flew upwards into it. Magic. Oh, dear. I swallowed, my anger abating in favour of nervousness.

  “Do you think those who walk casually through their lives ever achieve the perfect balance we strive to protect? That they can understand what is at stake when the balance is upset? Or wouldn’t they much prefer to have Life triumph over Death? Those of us here, we understand. We understand how terrible it would be if no one were to ever die. We understand how the world would fall apart if life were so fragile. Those foolish people wouldn’t be able to live so freely, so ignorantly, if they didn’t have us to protect them.”

  I may not have understood the whole point of the Order—I certainly didn’t understand volunteering for torture—but I did understand one thing: that was disgust colouring the Ancient One’s tone. He actively hated those who weren’t of the Order. Which meant Yolanda. Which meant me. And I had just insinuated that there was a traitor among them.

  I held out my hands in a peace offering. “Look, I get that the balance between Life and Death is important. But can you honestly say that people don’t understand?” I shook my head. “No, it doesn’t matter. That’s not why I’m here.”

  “You are not here to question the Order? To accuse one of us of failing our most basic duty?” the Ancient One sneered. I looked at Mercy for help, hoping that she would intervene on my behalf. Or Yolanda. But my assistant and the assassin were both silent. This was my accusation and my argument to make.

  Goody.

  “I’m here to find out who killed by circumventing Death,” I said. “That’s all. Look, whoever did this upset the balance in favour of Death, right?” I looked at Yolanda in pure desperation.

  She finally piped up, now that I wasn’t about to offend anyone. “If Death holds more power than Life, many will die. Immortals who should have centuries more to live. Mortals, whose lives are already short will end early. There will be many who will never get a chance to live.”

  “Thus upsetting the balance further, yes, we know,” the Ancient One growled.

  “Well, who would want such a thing?” I asked.

  “Besides Death?” the Ancient One said, very pointedly I might add.

  “Yes,” I sighed, “besides Death.”

  “I do not know,” the Ancient One replied.

  This could not be going any worse.

  “Okay, think,” I said, partly to myself, mostly to Yolanda and the two balance-fanatics. “If Death got the control, then who would benefit? Murderers, maybe? Predators?”

  “Each predator is another predator’s prey,” Mercy said, calm logic in the face of my more-desperate variety. Oddly enough, I got the impression that she was trying to help. She had been there when Life accused Death, when the situation was revealed, and she hadn’t told the Ancient One anything about it. I had been the one to do that. Which either made her very suspicious or not nearly as fanatical as I thought. Or, perhaps, she was just being merciful. But to whom?

  “So we rule out basic predators,” I said. “Fine. Who does that leave? Demons? Beings that thrive on death?”

  “They only have power in the mortal world,” Yolanda said. “They were bound aeons ago.”

  “Still, there would be lots of people dying. A whole global reset. The apocalypse. End of the world as we know it, time to start over—” I sat up straight, every muscle in my body singing. “A reset. Starting over.”

  “The balance would not change how the world works, not unless it is further circumvented,” the Ancient One said.

  “Not right away,” I shook my head. “But over time, those who survived would get a chance to start over. All of the horrors and corruption and lies of the old world. Poof, gone. So many miserable people put, well, out of their misery. People who didn’t value Life. Who didn’t fight for Life. Who didn’t care about Death. Pretty much every person I’ve ever met.”

  “Cal,” Yolanda said, a warning tone in her voice. “Be careful.”

  “Who would want that? Hmm?” I looked up at the woman standing perfectly still at the side of her leader. “It would be a mercy to end their pointless, ignorant, lives. Wouldn’t it?”

  Mercy shivered, though from the way her breath hitched, I doubted it was from cold. “It would,” she said. “But I did not do it.”

  I sat back in my chair, ready to challenge her, when the Ancient One slammed the end of his staff into the floor. “You dare to come here and accuse the most devoted of our order of something like this?” he snarled, eyes literally blazing. With fire and everything.

  “I—”

  “You have accused the Order of standing against the balance. You have committed a crime against us. It is just as well that you came here of your own free will,” the tiny, now-flaming, man hissed.

  “Now wait just a—”

  “You will be reconditioned.” He slammed the staff on the stones once more. “Take him away!”

  Dead Wrong

  “This is a mistake,” I said. My captors—not aurai, but bigger and tougher warrior types with claws and fangs that didn’t fit into their maws—were dragging me by my arms. We were moving fast enough that I couldn’t get my feet underneath me. As a result, I had very little chance to either walk in a dignified manner or, more im
portantly, fight to run away.

  “There is no mistake,” the big woman on my left said. She had eyes slitted like a cat and hissed a little when she spoke.

  “No, actually, I’m pretty sure there is,” I said. “I haven’t done anything!”

  “You accused the Order of working against the balance,” the man on my right snapped. “And you all but charged Grand Master Mercy of starting the apocalypse.”

  Grand Master Mercy? What was this, the Illuminati?

  “Look, no. I was just thinking out loud. I believe Mercy when she said she didn’t do it! What about the sanctity of an appointment? What about the fact that I don’t belong to your Order?!” I yelped, my toes catching on a particularly sharp piece of cave rock. The funny thing was, I actually did believe Mercy. There had been too much shock and horror in her normally-expressionless face to be anything but genuine.

  My guards didn’t care. They were going to do whatever they were told to do and that meant they were taking me to be tortured. I had to find another way out of my current predicament. I looked around, hoping to see Yolanda pounding up behind me with some of her troll battle magic, but she was nowhere to be seen. Actually, she hadn’t protested as much as I thought she would have. Sure, she protested and yelled and stamped her feet a bit, but when it came down to it, Yolanda hadn’t tried to fight my guards.

  I had. Vehemently.

  Maybe she was going to go find Death and get him to sort this out. After all, she may have been a troll and possessed of battle-magic, but she was only one person. The Order of Silence were a bunch of trained assassins.

  I lost track of the caverns we had passed while I was being dragged off. Granted, I was pretty much geographically challenged to begin with, but I couldn’t manage more than “two lefts and a right” at the beginning of the trip before things went wonky and confused. When the guards dragged me into a cave that was darker and more oppressive than the rest, I therefore had no idea where I was and no idea how to get out, even if I could manage to finagle an escape.