The Gods of Vice

by Devin Madson

  Katashi took another sip from his wine bowl. “Very well, but you’re still staring at me like I’ve done something wrong.”

  “I was thinking about this morning,” I blurted.

  Not charming words, but they made him lower his bowl. “What about this morning?”

  If I had thought it hard to breathe before, it was impossible now. “I was thinking that Wen has the worst timing of anyone I’ve ever met.”

  Another sip. Slow. Cautious. “Do you want—?”

  “Yes.”

  Katashi threw back the last of his wine and was rising from the table, when a knock fell upon the door. “My lady?” Wen again, and I knew not whether to laugh or cry as he went on. “There’s a scribe here to see you. Master Woti, says he has all the papers you asked to have drafted.”

  Half-risen from the table, Katashi stared at me. I stared back, twin desires warring in my breast. He turned to the door. “He can come back—”

  “Tell him to come in.”

  Katashi’s glare could have burned the skin from my bones, but he knelt back at the table as the door slid, and for a brief moment, Wen was visible in the passage, his face so waxen I could almost pity him.

  Whatever the Pike might have suspected, the scribe who entered with a bundle of scrolls under one arm showed no sign of awkwardness, not even in having to bow before a new emperor he had never served before—an emperor who looked ready to spit fire.

  I had spent the afternoon going over the standard papers and marking out which passages we needed to discuss, but as Master Woti finished bowing for the third time and joined us at the table, I could remember none of it. He spoke and I must have answered, Katashi too, for the papers were handed back and forth in a sluggish blur. My eyes were on his hands, on his lips, on the proud tilt of his chin and the tracing of his tongue along his teeth while he was thinking. He did not look at me at all, and while Master Woti was mixing ink for the final signing, I found myself thinking back through all the times that we’d almost touched, almost kissed, almost allowed ourselves to speak and wondered if this was just going to be another to look back on with an ache so deep I wanted to curl upon it.

  I wanted him, but I wanted the position more and forced myself to focus on the moment of triumph when at last it was time to sign the papers. My hand was steady as I took up the brush to make my mark—a mark that would forever change the amount of power I possessed.

  Once I had signed, Katashi took the brush and made his mark, and it was done. I was Her Grace of Koi, subject to no one barring my emperor—an emperor who looked cold and grim as Master Woti witnessed the papers and bowed himself out. Almost I wished he would stay, because then I would not have to face Katashi’s chill imperiousness.

  As the scribe’s footsteps faded away along the passage, Katashi let out a long breath. “Well, Your Grace,” he said, rising to his feet. “How humbling your company is. Now you have what you want, I hope you will do something wise with it.”

  “Like fight for you?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Had I known that part was in question, I wouldn’t have signed the papers.”

  “I don’t just mean ensuring the Koi estate continues to supply your cause with money and soldiers, Your Majesty. I’ve been thinking for most of the day about what I want to do now I have this position, and the answer is that I want to fight. When you leave here with your army, I am coming with you. Given the historical weight of this position, it would be wrong to do anything else.”

  “Hana, this isn’t a game.”

  “No, it’s not. We’re at war. This is the future of our family and our empire and our people we are fighting for. As both an Otako and the duke of Koi, it is not only my right but my duty to be a part of it.”

  Katashi ran his hand through his hair, loosening his topknot in agitation. “You cannot go back to masquerading as a man so—”

  “I was never going to! Why be a mere Captain Regent when I can be myself? I told you I did not want to sit around and do nothing and I meant it. I have more to give than that.”

  I knew his mercurial temper too well to be surprised by his sudden laugh, the appearance of his smile loosening the knot of anger that had begun to tighten in my stomach. “Will you ever just be what people expect?”

  “I hope not.”

  “Well, Your Grace, if you are insistent, then by all means ride out with my army. The presence of Lady Hana Otako at my side can only draw more people to our cause. I will not let you risk your life, however, so don’t think for even a moment you will be allowed to fight in battle.”

  I lifted my chin, mulish at his attitude more than his words. “You think I cannot?”

  “I know you cannot. No—” He lifted his hand to halt my argument. “There is nothing you can say that will change my mind. You know how to kill and you are used to small skirmishes, but this is war, Hana, and you have no Vices with you anymore. Be satisfied that you are allowed to come and leave it at that.”

  “Allowed? Because a woman needs the permission of a man to—”

  “No, because everyone, regardless of their name or their position or what hangs between their legs, needs their emperor’s permission to ride with his army. Now I will bid you goodnight, Your Grace, before that damned tongue of yours says something we both might regret.”

  With a swish of crimson silk, he departed, leaving my triumph tasting bitter on my tongue.

  Chapter 5

  Darius

  Of all the people I had least expected to find at the bars of my cell, Shin had been high on the list. Yet there he stood, arms folded, his shoulder leaning against the bars and his face mottled with bruises. Unlike the rest of Katashi’s loyal Pikes, he still wore the light uniform of a military messenger I had procured for him. Between that and his scowl, I drew my own conclusions.

  “Out of favour enough to think me the better choice, Shin,” I said. “Oh how I pity you.” I turned my head upon my makeshift pillow. No matter how tired one is, stone is not comfortable bedding. “Let me guess, you were foolish enough to admit to Katashi that you knew who Hana was.”

  His lack of response was answer enough.

  “And now what? Hoping to earn back some favour by making me change my mind?”

  “Not for that reason,” he said eventually, still leaning against the bars. “He’s a good man, you know, owning no faults that good advisors can’t temper.”

  “Such as a ruthless and inhumane disregard for life.”

  Shin glared through the bars. “That wasn’t deemed a fault when it was Kin giving the orders.”

  “He spared Katashi’s life.”

  “Is that what he told you?”

  “It is what historical accounts of the day tell me.” I pulled myself up off the floor to sit leaning against the wall, unable to suppress a groan of pain as all my joints twinged. “I have already given my answer, Shin, but I am so very humbled that you care about my fate enough to come all the way down here to talk me out of dying.”

  Again, he just eyed me through the bars, something of a cynical gleam in his lidless eye.

  “Ah, I am wrong,” I said. “Hana asked you to come. You are very devoted to her.”

  “And you are very devoted to Kin.”

  I shrugged, though it produced the unpleasant sound of silk scratching on rough stone, no doubt ripping threads. “I have debts. What’s your reason?”

  Shin mirrored my shrug. “I have debts.”

  “I thought you might. Hana is unaware of course, but does Katashi know it was you who killed Emperor Lan? You who murdered his whole family?”

  His eyes narrowed. It was always so nice to be right.

  “Ah, he does,” I said, happy to take some of my anger out on an easy and willing target. “What a loyal servant you are. It would be a shame if Hana found out Katashi had known all along that his father killed hers.”

  Shin’s fists clenched.

  “Don’t worry, I acquit him of having been involved himself given his age at the tim
e, but harbouring her mother’s assassin ever since? You know her too well to doubt how she’ll take such news, not to mention the discovery that her selfless protector—”

  “Enough.” He stood very straight now, no longer leaning upon the bars though he looked more tired than ever. Almost I felt ashamed, but my head ached and fear lived in my skin. Baiting him allowed me, just for an instant, to forget Malice was coming.

  Not the choice of the good man I had forced myself to be, but in that moment, I didn’t care as long as someone else hurt as much as I did.

  “Enough?” I repeated. “Are you going to stand there and preach about how you were just a tool? Or that they deserved to die? Are you going to—?”

  Shin gripped the bars, teeth bared in a snarl. “You think you’re so clever. You think you know everything. You think you’re better than everyone else. Well fuck you.” He spat on the stone floor of my cell. “I’ll enjoy watching you die.”

  “Did you enjoy watching them die too? Even Empress Li?”

  His desire to rip me to pieces might have powered him through the bars themselves had he not gathered his rage into a tight ball and turned to stalk away, ruining all my fun.

  “Give my love to Hana!” I called after him, the words left to echo along the passage. The distant door creaked open. It creaked closed. And once again, I was alone with my fear.

  I had not seen Malice escorted from the castle, but he would have gone without complaint rather than risk Katashi increasing his security. Unless he hoped I would fight for my own life, thereby proving I could not bear to be without him after all. It was exactly the act of devotion he would most enjoy but would only risk if he was very, very sure of me.

  I lay down, adjusting the bunched sash beneath my head. With nothing else to do, I closed my eyes and tried to sleep. Perhaps I dozed or perhaps I didn’t, time meaning nothing until a footstep scuffed by my ear. “Good evening, Lord Laroth.”

  Keeping my eyes closed, I sighed. “Good evening, Lady Kimiko. I was wondering when you would show up.” I opened my eyes to find a riot of dark curls hanging over me. “The Vice who can walk through walls.”

  “How did you…?”

  It really was nice to be right.

  Once more, I pulled myself up to sitting, no part of me feeling less sore from the short rest I had been afforded. “I know how Malice works,” I said, finding Lady Kimiko eyeing me suspiciously. “He only takes the most important people from those who seek his help. Katashi needs a way into the castle and now Malice has a Vice who can disappear into sadness—it’s not very difficult to piece together.”

  Her brows rose. They were thicker than usual but did her unique features no disservice. “You surprise me, Lord Laroth. Avarice speaks highly of you, but I have not yet found any Vice to have even a passing degree of intelligence.”

  “Don’t disparage Avarice to me.”

  Those thick brows rose even higher. “A soft spot?”

  “If we are to spar with those, you’d lose. My brother did not sell me to a madman.”

  “No, your brother is the madman.” She tilted her head. “Oh, look at that, your face still knows how to make a genuine look of surprise; I had thought you as dead as Malice. And no, he didn’t tell me you were brothers, but you aren’t the only one with eyes and ears and a brain.”

  Like Hana, she had a quick tongue and a direct gaze, but she was more sure of herself than Hana had ever been—perhaps the effect of age more than temperament. Either way, it was where their resemblance ended. Lady Kimiko had very traditional Kisian features, except for her hair. There was nothing traditional about unruly curls. Nor her diminutive stature. I was reminded of an old limerick and said, “Katashi the tall. Kimiko the small. He took all the room, in their mother’s small womb, so for her there was no room at all.”

  “Why thank you for that,” she said, her smile the sort that could cut glass. “I really wanted to be reminded of that wonderful little rhyme.”

  “Did you indeed? Then I am so pleased to have been of service in these dark times.”

  Her disdain was beautiful to behold, edged in contempt and owning the sort of hauteur that can only be bred in. “I see all the rumours of your—”

  She broke off mid retort, her head tilting at the sound of footsteps. As they approached along the passage, she stepped back through the wall, leaving me to face my second visitor alone. The door creaked open. I did not recognise the man who entered, but I knew that expression of dead calm. Even without it, his lack of uniform and the bow he carried were all the clues I needed to know his purpose. My heart thumped uncomfortably hard in my chest.

  “Good evening,” I said, remaining seated on the stones.

  The man drew an arrow from his quiver.

  “I see His Majesty is afraid I might escape before morning and wishes to be entirely sure I’m dead.”

  He nocked the arrow to his string. A cold-blooded killer could have loosed two through me by now, but this man was enjoying himself, a cruel smile turning his lips as he lifted the bow. I fought the urge to get to my feet and scurry about my cell, which was no doubt exactly what he wanted.

  “You’re running out of time,” I called out, hating the panicked edge in my voice. I hated still more how unnecessary it was, because Lady Kimiko reappeared before all the words were out of my mouth. She stepped through the wall behind the man and in one fluid movement jammed a blade into his side. Another skimmed his throat, and with a series of wet little gasps, he collapsed, bow and arrow clattering on the stones.

  Showing no flicker of remorse or disgust or even interest, Lady Kimiko wiped her blades on the man’s back before sliding both into her sash. Looking up to find me watching, she lifted her chin. “And you’re running out of time to sit there admiring me.”

  “Who says I’m admiring you?”

  “I have a mirror.”

  “How can you be sure I’m not just staring because you have some blood on your nose?”

  She was good. She didn’t even touch her face, just said, “Lord Laroth,” and bowed in the mocking way of someone acknowledging a hit. I had tried to teach Hana to bow like that, to hold her head just so and her hands delicately cupped. She had never achieved anything like the grace that came naturally to this woman.

  Lady Kimiko stepped through the bars and, for a time, stood staring at me without speaking. I wondered if it was a game of sorts, some test to see how long I could wait before demanding her purpose.

  “I have more time to waste than you,” I said finally, taking up the sash I had been using as a pillow and retying it with deft fingers.

  “That’s not true.”

  “Isn’t it? What are your orders?”

  “To get you out of here.”

  I folded my arms. “And what if I refuse to go with you?”

  With an amused little sneer, she set her hands on her hips. “Then I’ll make you.”

  “If you know what I am, then you must know that’s impossible.”

  She considered me through narrowed eyes. Outside my cell, the only sound was the sputter of the torch in the passage and the distant murmur of guards beyond the door. “You’re the same as he is?”

  I pulled up my sleeve and turned my wrist to the light. Lady Kimiko eyed the birthmark but didn’t move, didn’t speak. I let the sleeve fall back into place.

  “I guess that makes sense of the stories about you,” she said after a while. “Do you really eat people?”

  “Not raw.”

  “I thought you’d be fatter.”

  “I only eat lean people.”

  She regarded me with a searching look. “I’ve heard people taste like chicken,” she said.

  “So does chicken.”

  That made her laugh. “Nonsense then?”

  “Do I look like I eat people?” I asked. “You still appear to have all your limbs despite the fact I am starving.”

  “If you’re hungry, then why not come with me? We could stop in and raid the kitchens on the way o
ut.”

  “Really? You have no idea how long it has been since someone treated me like a child. Perhaps it does not occur to you that when they chop off my head, I won’t be hungry anymore either. Next, you’ll be tempting me with sweets.”

  Kimiko’s thick brows drew together. “You didn’t want that man”—she nodded in the direction of the corpse in the passage—“to kill you, but you’d rather be executed than come with me?”

  “It’s nothing personal.”

  “You’re afraid of Malice.” It was a sad smile she gifted. “Again with the expression of surprise. I told you, I am not stupid. Would he mark you too?”

  Marking. Had he called it that or had I? It had been so haphazard in the early days, but he’d had five years to perfect the art.

  I shook my head. “He tried once.”

  “If you can fight that, then why are you afraid of him?”

  I’m not afraid of him but of who I am when I’m with him. Of how much I want to be with him. How could I say such words to anyone, let alone this woman who had been sold into his service, whose brother’s craving for vengeance had outweighed a lifetime of love?

  Graceful steps brought her across the cell. But for her vivacious curls, she truly was a tiny creature, her shoulders narrow and her wrists thin. “Please come with me.”

  Time to see just how severe Malice’s orders had been.

  “No.”

  I had expected a slow build of pain, a gradual eating away at clear thought, but the moment the word was out of my mouth, Kimiko’s knees buckled. They hit the stones and she fell forward onto her hands, gasping as her hair fell in a curtain around her face.

  Shocked, I reached out my Empathy without thinking, the ease with which I moved it as horrifying as the agony piercing her soul and covering her flesh like a thousand hot needles. Void, we had called it, so excited to find that Empathy could work in reverse—not opening the body up, but shutting it down. The piece of Malice inside her was killing itself and taking her with it. A fitting punishment for any Vice who did not obey.

  “Shit,” I hissed, Malice’s desperation palpable in her agony. He would send every single one of his Vices after me rather than let me die, would set the whole world aflame if that was what it took. I could let Kimiko die, but it would make no difference. He was never going to let me go.