Perdition

by Ann Aguirre

  “Clearly you’ve never been homeless or hungry, love. I fought for them because they’d have me, no questions asked. It might’ve been a terrible place, but . . . it was mine.”

  She understood that, better than he might imagine. “Right. Go on.”

  “There was a remote village, and the lord wanted it cleared. The property was in dispute. He said it belonged to him . . . his neighbor disagreed. This had been going on for turns while the people went about their lives unconcerned. My employer got the bright idea to turn us on the peasants. If there was no income potential, then his rival might lose interest. It wasn’t the first time he’d aimed us at petty matters, diverting us from his Imperial campaign, just the worst conceived use for a full merc unit.”

  She didn’t have to prompt him. Jael closed his eyes and finished the story though she already knew how it ended. “I followed orders. The universe is full of quietly terrible men who blame their sins on other people, on the necessity of following orders. So we wiped that village off the map. Everything burned, and there was this awful naphtha smell in the air, hanging, along with the stink of charred flesh. I can still hear the women screaming, the children crying.” When his lashes fluttered up, she swore she saw flames crackling in them.

  Hell is our own memories, our bad choices.

  Dred wasn’t sure what she’d craved in this information exchange, but she’d learned he wasn’t a man who could do something so terrible and feel unmoved. That meant he was better than Artan, at least. He’d known no remorse for any of his atrocities and taken pleasure in pain, as if it were sweeter than honey.

  “Come to bed,” she said then.

  34

  Darkness Falls

  “Don’t take this the wrong way, love, but I’m not in the mood.” Jael tried on a smile, but he couldn’t quite fasten the thing properly.

  His teeth clicked in more of a snarl with the sickness of that old wrong simmering in his head. He couldn’t even believe he’d answered her, just because she’d asked. She must have some kind of insane power over men because otherwise he’d never have emptied himself all over her bunk, as if he were pissing on an alley wall. Jael just . . . he never did this; it was too far below skin level, down close to the bone.

  “Me either. So my invitation’s not for that. Just . . . stay, if you want.”

  Mary, why would he want to be in a woman’s bed if not for that? He had no precedent, but her power over him didn’t diminish. If anything, he was more of a puppet than ever as he settled beside her in the bunk. It was just large enough for two, but only if they turned on their sides. He had no idea how it functioned with both Tam and Einar in here, but he shunted those questions aside. For tonight, if only for tonight, she’d chosen him. Jael would deal with the fallout from that later.

  “What do you want from me?” he asked, hearing the raw confusion in his own voice.

  “I’m using you as a magical talisman tonight.”

  “Against what?”

  “Everything else.”

  She wrapped an arm around him, and he had no idea what to do. He’d never lain with a woman like this. There were bedroom tussles; he was good at those, but always, he rolled away with a smile or an exchange of credits afterward. By degrees, he relaxed against her and curled her closer to him. Her leg twined with his. Before long, her breathing leveled off. It was always hard for him to fall asleep, either a product of his accelerated physiology or a result of his precarious lifestyle. This time, however, it took only minutes instead of hours for his brain to power down.

  Later, he woke in confusion, his face nuzzled into the softness of a shoulder. Recollection came quickly. His first instinct was to shove her away and run. This seemed much weightier than her fingers, briskly bringing him off. Jael couldn’t make his muscles respond; he only wanted to pull her tighter. His whole body ached in that sleepy, needing way.

  She pressed closer, drowsy and delicious with it. Half-awake, she kissed him, her lips soft and warm on his throat, and his heart stuttered. Not like this. I won’t survive if the first time is like this. Everything was too raw, too real, and he’d had no chance to erect any defenses.

  No, but plenty of time for other erections.

  “I sense you changed your mind.” Her voice was husky.

  She moved against him, a thigh cradling his hip. Nothing coherent emerged from his mouth in response. There were so many reasons this was the wrong time, but he was beyond control for just as many. Jael told himself it was because it had been so many turns since he’d felt a woman like this—any man would react the same.

  Then she kissed him, sweet and deep, all heat and luxurious languor. If anything, her dreamy slowness increased his fever. He made a sound against her mouth, one hand digging into her hip. He wasn’t like this. Oh, please. Please, just—

  And then she did, thank Mary. It was just right, exquisite, and he moved with her in short, frantic lunges. He was only barely aware that the thing was only half-done, that their clothing was still in the way, but he was mad enough not to care. He watched her eyes with hungry intensity and saw the moment she fell into it. That was all it took. They clung together, shivering, then reality set in.

  “I highly suspect you’re a witch,” he said, falling back with a groan. “I don’t usually forget to take my pants off.”

  She was smiling down at him, propped on an elbow. “I didn’t mind. There’s something to be said for efficiency.”

  “Stop. I’ll die of shame.”

  “I don’t think that’s possible, especially for you. And even if you do, you’ll get better.”

  From anyone else, the joke about his otherness would bother him, though he’d feign a laugh and act like it didn’t matter. With her, it was all right because she knew the worst things about him and accepted him. It was better, somehow, that she could tease him.

  You’re not a person. You’re a thing.

  No, he told the scientist who raged in his brain. I am not.

  “Awful creature. You’ve stolen my dignity.” But he was smiling when he said it.

  “I doubt you’ll miss it,” she answered.

  “Possibly not, if it means more mornings like this one.” Before he could say anything further, the door tone sounded.

  “The Speaker is here, my queen. Silence commands your presence to discuss the next leg of your joint offensive.” Tam’s voice sounded like usual, as if he couldn’t care less what had gone on in here overnight.

  He’s got ice in his veins. If this woman sent me out of her bed in favor of another, I’d break the place apart with my bare hands.

  “I’ll be there shortly. Offer him a drink.”

  “Or whatever Skullfaces eat,” Jael said, as she switched off the intercom.

  “I doubt we have anything he would find tempting. I’ll take the first san-shower. I want you to come to Entropy with me, so you’ll need to be quick.”

  “I’ve made do with a cupful of water and a chunk of pumice. I won’t keep you waiting.”

  She smiled, and the brightness of her eyes wrapped a fist around his heart. There was an actual pinch as she turned away. The feeling scared the hell out of him. Jael ran his fingers through his hair once she disappeared from view.

  What the hell.

  Every instinct told him to get the frag away from her. She’d destroy him when she turned, as everyone did. Don’t hope. Just focus on finding a way out of this hellhole. He clutched fast that voice of reason and pushed to his feet. He was poised to leave when she emerged, damp and lovely. It would seem odd if he retreated, so Jael pretended visceral terror didn’t have him by the throat as he slid past her to take a lightning shower. As he washed up, he was haunted by the visual of water droplets beading on her skin, sliding down her shoulder, over the ridge of her collarbone, and—

  Stop.

  He shut that part of himself down by focusing on the meeting Silence had requested—commanded, rather. In Dred’s shoes, he would shut down that peremptory behavior straightaway.
To his surprise, she had left him in her quarters unattended; though she didn’t have many personal belongings, she’d left them all in his care. The punishment for transgressions against the Dread Queen would be swift and fierce, no doubt, but maybe this was a taste. Or maybe she trusts you. Whatever the reason, Jael touched nothing of hers as he rinsed out his skivvies, then put them back on damp. From life on the march, he knew he’d soon get a fungus if he carried on that way, but maybe if he charmed the right person later, he could acquire a spare set of togs.

  When he stepped out of her quarters, he found Dred arguing with Tam and Einar—but not about what he expected. Neither man looked particularly put out at his appearance. In their shoes, he would’ve started the conversation with a ferocious punch. They’ve been in here too long. Hm. But you were locked up for turns, too. If Bug solitary didn’t make you grateful for every snippet of attention, nothing will. In truth, that loneliness broke and reshaped him, and he was still figuring out where all the pieces went. Sometimes he fancied he could hear them jangling around his innards.

  Tam was saying, “That’s imprudent. I counsel against it.”

  “I don’t care,” Dred answered flatly.

  Well, that’s plain enough.

  He propped himself against a wall to listen as Einar put in, “Seems to me, she’s right, Tam. I know I don’t have your brain for murky business, but if she constantly comes to heel like a bitch, then Silence will treat her like one.”

  Ah, so that’s it.

  He asked, “So you’re refusing to go see Death’s Handmaiden, then?”

  “That’s the size of it. She can pass the message along through her Speaker, or she can bloody well come to me herself.” At this moment, the woman he’d spent the night with was nowhere in evidence. She was 100 percent the Dread Queen.

  Her boots rang with imperious intent as she strode toward the hall. Unwilling to miss a moment, Jael followed her, and he knew the precise moment Tam realized he’d lost this argument. He wondered if it was the first one. A look over his shoulder caught Einar grinning, as if he found it entertaining to see the spymaster thwarted. Jael reckoned it didn’t happen often, as the man was good at making others dance to his tune.

  “I greet you, Speaker.”

  “You have kept me waiting. I am the Handmaiden’s—”

  “And I am the Dread Queen. In my presence, you will take a knee or lose your head.”

  The Skullface spluttered but under the glittering ferocity of her green eyes, he gave the demanded obeisance and stayed low. He quieted, seeming to realize her tenure as a supplicant was done. Jael enjoyed the hell out of the show, as did the rest of Queensland. The men rumbled with quiet pride, seeing the Speaker humbled.

  When the hall quieted, she went on, “Pass a message to the Handmaiden. She may convey her desires through you, or come personally. No longer will I leap to her summons when there is so much preparation at hand. Does she mean to help me crush the Great Bear or not?”

  “That is what she wished to discuss with you, my queen.” The courtesy sounded as if it choked the Speaker, but he finally seemed to remember with whom he was dealing.

  “The Handmaiden discusses nothing, as you well know. She conveys her wishes through you. If she has not done so, you may return when she has. Or do you have a message for me, after all, other than, You must come to Entropy.”

  A clash of wills followed, and Jael wasn’t surprised when the Speaker dropped his eyes first. “I do. But it is for your ears only.”

  Jael’s gaze swept the crowded hall and decided that was a wise precaution. Only a fool of a general revealed his whole battle strategy to every grunt in the army. Generally, it was best to parcel information out on a need-to-know basis, keeping the enemy from making use of spies and traitors.

  Dred offered a regal nod. “Rise and whisper to me, Speaker. None but my most trusted advisors will be apprised.” As she said that, her eyes met Jael’s, and the intensity of the connection felt like a silent, secret message.

  This time, I won’t leave you in the dark.

  Or maybe that was wishful thinking. She could be thinking about sex or food, and he happened to be standing in her line of sight. He’d never been as good at reading cues as he wished; sometimes he saw treachery where there was none, and at others, he failed to miss all the signs of imminent betrayal.

  The hall fell quiet as the Speaker rose and whispered in her ear. Jael sensed the thundering hearts, the anticipation, because each man knew this scheme signified a change to everything inside Perdition. If the Dread Queen took down the Great Bear, Queensland would rise—in strength, prestige, and territory. Dred listened with a flat expression for long seconds.

  Then she inclined her head. “It shall be done.”

  35

  Water Damage

  Tam cornered Ike after the meeting with Silence’s emissary. He found the old man in one of the back corridors, carrying a box of tools. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  “Many things, I expect.”

  “This is the first time she’s chosen to ignore my advice. I wonder why.” He didn’t know if he was angry or alarmed. It would be more difficult to ensure that his schemes and stratagems played out smoothly if he couldn’t count on Dred’s reactions anymore.

  “I might’ve mentioned it would be better if she did her own thinking. That’s all.”

  “Are you trying to undermine me? You know what’s at stake here.”

  The old man smiled. “You don’t know as much as you think you do. There are currents in motion that even you can’t measure.”

  To his dismay, Tam had no idea what that meant. “Are you attempting to irritate me?”

  “Is it working?”

  In the end, Tam ended the conversation without learning what Ike knew. He had no doubt it was something, as he’d learned to recognize the twinkle of secrecy in the other man’s eyes. Yet it was no exaggerated claim when Ike said he was good at keeping information close. Which meant Tam wouldn’t learn anything further, and persistence was pointless. Since he despised wasted effort, he nodded at Ike, quietly alarmed, and slipped away.

  Thinking back, he decided things had changed when they recruited Jael. At some point, Tam had lost influence with Dred. He didn’t know that the new fish was directly responsible, but that was the only change that he could identify. The calculating thing to do would be to discredit the other man somehow, making Dred think he wasn’t to be trusted. After a few seconds of consideration, he discarded the notion. Ultimately, such discord would only hurt Queensland; better that he lost a little personal power than to create conflict where none was necessary. They already had enough to contend with, as he still hadn’t spotted anyone paying undue attention to the Kitchen-mate.

  The spy’s smart, whoever it is.

  He felt pleased that they’d thwarted the Great Bear’s plan to attack on two fronts; Grigor must be frothing at the mouth by now. But the work wasn’t over, not by a long shot. Their numbers wouldn’t stand up to a straight fight this time. Time to head behind enemy lines and see what I can learn. Tam dodged the checkpoint and pulled himself into the ducts.

  He was more careful than he ever had been. The stakes were higher this time, and detection meant more than his own death. At the halfway mark, he avoided a trap one of Grigor’s men had left in the vents. If triggered, it would’ve drawn down multiple patrols. After he disarmed it, he regulated his breathing, refusing to let nerves get the best of him. Though he thrived on such challenges, that didn’t make him devoid of fear.

  If I die, I’ll never finish what I’ve started.

  The rest of Perdition would be astonished if they learned his ultimate goal . . . and then they’d laugh. But with the completion of each stage of his plan, he drew a little closer. Dred’s new independence might complicate matters, but he could work around it. The important thing was to assemble the personnel capable of pulling off the greatest trick in the history of the universe. One step at a time.
/>   Tam paused. His nerves prickled in the darkness, dust stirring to coat his cheeks. There was a faint tang to the air, unfamiliar and unwelcome. It wasn’t blood but . . . sweat. Which meant he wasn’t alone up here. In perfect silence, he drew out a garrote he’d fashioned of old wire; he had affixed rudimentary metal handles on either side, so he didn’t injure his palms. He lacked the strength for open combat, and he preferred maneuvering other people into doing his dirty work, but sometimes killing was necessary and unavoidable.

  Tam clenched the weapon between his teeth and followed his nose. Grigor’s sentry sprawled directly above the access vent, and by the smell of him, he’d been there long enough to grow complacent. He must be watching the corridor below as well as the hidden access up here. For a brute like Grigor, it was a surprisingly subtle countermeasure, but it wouldn’t prevent Tam from accomplishing his aim; he’d be in and out of the Great Bear’s territory before Grigor realized his guard was dead.

  The angle wasn’t ideal, as the victim was sitting sideways from Tam’s current position. In the best scenario, he could approach from behind, leaving the target no chance to resist. But he’d make do. In these close quarters, his foe would be limited in how much he could fight back; there was little advantage to size and strength in here. Tam crept forward by millimeters, letting the other man’s lethargy work to his advantage. He was almost on him when the enemy turned his head, so Tam lunged and got his garrote around the bastard’s neck.

  They wrestled for a few seconds, then Tam slammed the guard’s head against the metal wall. That was a calculated risk. If there was anyone else posted nearby, he might hear the thump and come to investigate. I’ll deal with that when the time comes. The impact dazed his target enough for him to close the loop, then he crossed the handles, applying all his upper-body strength to crushing the larynx. He ducked the flailing limbs, as asphyxiation wasn’t a peaceful way to die, but gradually, the target’s resistance slowed, then stilled entirely. Tam didn’t let up for another minute, just in case it was a ruse. He checked the pulse, then pocketed his weapon.