by Devin Madson
Rescuing the teacup from my shaking fingers, Tili rubbed the back of my hand. ‘Shh, my lady, you’ll feel better in the morning,’ she said, coaxing me to lie down. Hushing me gently, she tucked the quilt around me, and once I was quiet, she began to sing. The sound of her voice was soft and airy, and reassured by her song, I finally fell asleep.
Chapter 4
An envoy came with the setting sun. He wore the uniform of a general and carried himself like a lord, but he was no nobleman. General Tan, he called himself, leaning against the wall as the guards closed the door behind him.
‘General Tan?’ I said, sitting up and straightening my robe. ‘Tan Mei. The eldest son of the deposed Count of Risian.’
‘Clever.’
‘Observant.’
‘Then perhaps you will have observed that you’re in a spot of trouble.’
‘Am I? How fortunate that I have you to inform me of it.’
General Tan pushed from the wall and strode further into the room. ‘Smart, eh? I’ve heard all about you, Monstrous Laroth, but you don’t live up to the stories. Why don’t you show me the scar where they cut out your heart.’
I stared at him, the seconds ticking slowly away. His smile remained fixed, glassy, but his gaze shied toward the window, and his fingers began to fiddle with the buckle that held his sword belt.
He was poor sport.
‘If you have come to say something, say it,’ I said. ‘You are wasting my time.’
His lips parted in a grin. ‘Funny man. Lucky for you Emperor Katashi is merciful. I am sent to offer you the chance to speak your Oath in private and take your position on his Council tomorrow.’
‘Wants me where he can see me, does he?’
General Tan did not answer. His dislike radiated off him, but which part of me did he hate? The Laroth? The servant of Kin? Or the Empath I had long tried to deny?
‘You may tell Katashi that while his offer is terribly kind, I will not change my mind.’
‘You think he won’t do it?’ Tan said. ‘He will.’
‘I know he will. Goodnight, General.’
After he left I lay staring up at the ceiling with its criss-cross of dark beams flickering in the lantern light. I had not seen Malice escorted from the castle, but the air had changed, the Keep breathing a sigh of relief as he was expelled from its walls. At this very moment he would be lying upon the divan in his travelling wagon, snapping at anyone who dared interrupt his peace. He would take to his opium. He always did when unproductive emotions clogged the air like so much fog.
Vague sounds echoed through the quieting castle like an ancient heartbeat. Guards patrolling the passages; murmuring voices; the sound of the gate opening, and the gentle snore of one of Katashi’s new councillors in another room. Outside, dogs were barking. Katashi’s dogs? Or Kin’s, left behind like so much else.
Disturbed from my rest, I went to the window and peered out into the courtyard below. Men were gathering. A ring of torches lit their dark shapes, the sleek bodies of fighting dogs stalking the firelight. Mesmerised, I watched as one dog was taken from the group, a leather muzzle strapped over its nose. The men were shouting, laughing, as the animal was dragged to a post and tied up, cowering.
The soldiers let their dogs loose, each man holding a stick with which he jabbed his animal – back, neck, gut, riling them to fury. Snarling, they gathered around the helpless creature, and urged on with the sticks, they turned on their own. Growls and yelps filled the night, the mass of dark bodies writhing. Gold passed from hand to hand and the men cheered as blood sprayed across the stones—
‘What is it with men and their violent amusements?’
I turned quickly. Beside the cabinet stood a young woman, an expression of distaste frozen on her features. The door was closed. Through its thin screen the shadow of my guard rocked gently to and fro, humming to himself.
‘I take your assumption unkindly,’ I said. ‘It is not my choice of amusement. I would rather set the men on one another.’
Bright blue eyes laughed from a familiar face. Blue was a rare colour in Kisia, especially when the hair that tumbled from her brow was dark and thickly curled. She had been with Malice the night General Ryoji let him inside the castle.
She tilted her chin in response to my scrutiny. ‘Lord Laroth,’ she said, and bowed. 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.
‘You have the advantage it would seem,’ I said.
‘You may call me Adversity.’
‘Malice’s choice, or yours?’
‘Guess.’
‘Yours.’
‘Very good, Lord Laroth.’ She looked at me quizzically. ‘But that wasn’t a guess, was it?’
‘No. I don’t guess. With your name you laugh at the world, or perhaps at yourself.’
Her brows rose. They were thicker than average, but did her unique beauty no disservice. ‘You surprise me, Lord Laroth. Avarice speaks highly of you, but I am yet to meet a Vice with even a passing degree of intelligence.’
‘You shouldn’t disparage Avarice to me. I’ve known him a long time.’
She didn’t reply. With nervous fingers she turned the incense burner, the curls of smoke paling beside the great ringlets of her hair.
I waited for her to speak again, but unlike the majority of her sex she seemed not to find constant chatter necessary, willing to stand watching me as long as I would let her. Tilting my head, 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.
‘That’s not true, is it?’ Adversity, too, tilted her head. ‘Do you want to die?’
‘No.’
‘But you don’t want to live.’
I renewed my examination of her features. No fool, this woman; all too quick to see the dark thoughts that had begun to engulf me.
‘How about we end this game,’ I said. ‘Malice sent you. What does he want? To bid me farewell?’
Again I caught the laughter in her eyes, but this time it mocked. ‘I think you know what I am capable of, Lord Laroth.’
She had pulled Malice through the wall. I had never seen a Vice capable of such a feat, but five years was a long time to experiment.
‘And if I would rather die than be reunited with your master?’ I asked.
‘I cannot disobey.’
‘Do you plan to carry me? What if I hold on to the windowsill, what then? It might quickly become a farce.’
Adversity folded her arms. ‘Who are you?’
‘I seem to have been asked that often of late. I assure you, I would have corrected you if you had my name wrong.’
‘Are you a Vice?’
‘Do I look like a Vice?’
‘You look like a painting.’
‘I thank you for the compliment.’
‘Don’t. What use is beauty if it’s as shallow as a canvas?’
The words stung and I looked away. Outside, the fight had come to an end, the cheering and growls fading into the night. Shallow. Better she believe me a heartless monster. The last thing I wanted was pity.
‘I’ve heard a lot of stories about you,’ she said. ‘The Monstrous Laroth. 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 did not like. ‘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 aske
d. ‘You still appear to have all your limbs despite the fact I am starving.’
‘Then why don’t you come with me? We could stop in and raid the kitchens on the way.’
‘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.’
Adversity’s thick brows drew together. ‘Why do you want to die?’
‘I don’t want to die.’
‘But you would rather die than come with me.’
‘It’s nothing personal.’
Graceful steps brought her across the room. But for her vivacious curls, she was a tiny creature, her shoulders narrow and her wrists thin.
‘Sometimes I wish I was dead,’ she said. ‘There is little worth living for without freedom.’
‘Not a Vice by choice?’
‘No. And I am not Malice’s lover if that is what you’re thinking.’
It had crossed my mind, but Malice was not one to like his women with spirit or wit.
Adversity sat upon the divan, crossing her legs like a meditating priest. ‘If you won’t come with me, is it all right if I stay?’
A demand to know what she wanted hovered on my tongue. She made no secret of her ability, but apart from dragging me through the wall there was little harm she could cause me. But what would Malice do to her if she failed her mission?
‘If you wish,’ I said. ‘I have no particular reason to desire solitude before I die.’
Adversity patted her lap. ‘Lie down.’
I didn’t move.
‘What do you think I’m going to do to you?’
I returned to the divan and lay down, slowly lowering my head into her lap. The dark fabric of her simple robe smelt of wood smoke, and above me dark curls dangled like the fronds of a weeping willow. Sliding her fingers through my hair, Adversity began to massage my temples, applying just enough pressure to ease my tension. I relaxed, sinking into her as she smoothed my brow, every lingering caress having its own unique meaning.
‘I wish I could help you,’ she said after a time, the movement of her hands slowing.
‘Why?’ I said. ‘What difference does it make to you?’
‘I would hate to see you owned by Malice, marked like we are. But I don’t want you to lose your head either.’
Marked. 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. Curious, I let my Empathy go a little, and Malice was there, like a black spider clutched upon her soul.
I drew the Empathy away. It was as easy as breathing, the skill coming back to me as though it had never left.
Adversity continued to massage my brow, each touch more a caress than the last. Beneath my head her legs were warm, the scent of her skin sweet.
‘Why stay?’ I asked, no longer comfortable, no longer sure. ‘Feeling sorry for me?’
‘Is it wrong to want company, Lord Laroth?’
‘Considering the excessively informal nature of this situation, I think you may as well call me Darius.’
‘Very well then, Darius. I don’t like to suffer alone.’
‘Suffer?’
‘I told you,’ she said simply. ‘I cannot disobey.’
I tensed, tilting my head back to see her face. ‘What do you mean?’
A cleft cut between Adversity’s brows, her eyes closed, her lips pale. ‘It hurts.’
I seized her trembling hand; her skin like burning coals. A gentle touch of my Sight revealed nothing, but she was breathing hard now, swaying. I sat up and gripped her shoulders, shaking her roughly. ‘Adversity.’ She opened her eyes, but though she smiled faintly, she hardly appeared to see me at all.
I dug deeper, heedless now of my intrusion. Pain knocked me off the divan and I hit the floor.
‘Shivatsa.’ The word hissed between my lips. I had felt that pain before. Void we had called it, awed to find the 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.
The pain was growing, spreading, no longer hidden but covering her flesh like a thousand hot needles digging deep.
‘Get up,’ I said, grabbing her arms and trying to make her stand. She whimpered, eyes rolling back into her head. Beyond the door the shadow of my guard had stilled. Asleep. I could wake him. He would take her away, but she would still die.
I lifted her off the divan as she stiffened, small hands splaying into rigid stars. She weighed almost nothing, but she was twisting, throwing back her head and exposing the hard line of her throat.
Straining to hold her, I set my shoulder against the wall. Her ability would be linked to an emotion, I knew, but what it was I could not tell. Pain had been Avarice’s trigger, because pain had started it all.
‘What is it?’ I said. ‘Tell me, Adversity? What makes you disappear?’
For an instant she became insubstantial. It lasted only long enough to set my heart thundering, the scent of sadness souring the air.
Sadness.
And so you leave me lingering, a shade of wretched fear. E’re long I’ll feel the sadness, it my wont to disappear.
Malice’s favourite poem. ‘Sadness,’ I said. ‘Something sad.’ I looked around the room, empty but for old furniture. Adversity had brought it to life. Her eyes had laughed at me. No one else had ever laughed at me like that, ever smiled like that, ever seen through the mask and tried to smooth the troubles from my brow.
I found skin. The sadness was there, caught to the memory of a young woman with audacious curls and a smile that tugged up only one corner of her lips.
Adversity grew misty as I fed the emotion into her, but my grip did not falter. Skin to skin she was taking me with her.
I stepped into the wall. It seemed hardly to exist, offering no resistance beyond a prickling pain like dipping a cold foot into a hot bath. It spread through my body.
One step, hairs standing on end, then I breathed the air of a room no longer my own, the smell of dust and cedar hanging about my skin. In the middle of the room a large man lay on his sleeping mat, a quilt wrapped around him like a cocoon.
Adversity made no sound, her body limp. Letting her slide out of my arms, I knelt, pressing my hand against her cheek. ‘Don’t die,’ I said. ‘Don’t die because of me.’
I held my breath, listening closely to hers, but all I could hear was the stertorous breathing of the man on the mat. Then a gentle sigh brushed my cheek and with a sharp cry Adversity’s eyes flew open. They found me crouched over her, and for a moment she looked at me as though I was a stranger, trying to discern some semblance of memory from my features.
‘Who would have thought you could look so worried,’ she said, each breath coming quickly now. ‘Not such a painting after all.’ She sat up, pushing me aside as she became aware of our surroundings. ‘Oh no, what have you done?’ she said, a small hand darting to her mouth.
‘Saved your life.’
‘Did I ask you to?’
A groan came from the man and I turned as he propped himself up, eyes bulging. Lines criss-crossed his face from a creased pillow. ‘Laroth?’
‘Good evening, Lord Kita, I hope we aren’t disturbing you.’
‘What in the hells are you doing here?’ He caught sight of Adversity. ‘Is that a whore?’
Adversity scrambled to her feet, her face flushed. ‘Is that a fat pig?’
Lord Kita turned the colour of plum. ‘How dare you!’
I pressed my lips tightly, restraining a mad laugh. ‘I think now would be a good time to keep moving,’ I said, marching Adversity to the far wall. ‘Accept my deepest apologies for t
he interruption, Kita, you may go back to dreaming of your dinner.’
Adversity gripped my hand, her fingers sliding between mine. She produced sadness in a breath, and made ethereal, we stepped through the wood. The pain shivered through me, and Adversity’s hand slipped from mine.
The new room was empty. Beyond the now solid wall came the muted sound of Lord Kita calling for his man. Beside me, Adversity was bright-eyed and tight-lipped. ‘I should have called him something wittier,’ she said when she found me looking at her.
‘I think fat pig was particularly apt. I’ve seen him eating.’
She smiled briefly. ‘How did you get me out of there? I was sure you couldn’t.’
‘Do you mean you wish I hadn’t?’
‘I don’t want to lead you to a fate worse than death.’
Hemmed in by dark thoughts, I had chosen death, never dreaming she would give up her own life to help me achieve it. Did she hate her life so much? I could not bring myself to consider other motives and edged away from such dangerous ground. ‘If it’s any consolation,’ I said with a smile. ‘I do not want to lose my head. I look better with it on. You have a plan from here?’
My light answer had the desired effect and she nodded: ‘If we cut through a few more rooms we can get to the servants’ stairs. They were empty when I came up, but we don’t have much time. Once the sun is up we won’t be able to get out through the walls unseen.’
‘It seems like you’ve thought of everything. Lead the way.’
‘Only if you’re sure you want to. I can take you back.’
‘No, thank you. You have persuaded me that I wish to keep my head after all.’
Adversity held out her hand. The prospect of walking through more walls was unpleasant, but that was not the reason I hesitated. This beautiful creature had come into my life like a whirlwind, but I retained just enough sense to know how dangerous she was.
I took her hand. Sadness grew around us and she stepped toward the wood. The tips of her fingers slid into the wall, but she stopped, head snapping around at the sound of hurried steps in the passage.
