Death and Resurrection (The Ballad of Broken Song Book 1)

by Simon Birks

  Hoep won’t know what hit him, Graim thought.

  “Jin Hoep,” Jenza called. “I am entering the building! Please put down your weapon.”

  Jenza waited a few seconds, and then cautiously moved inside. She stopped at the opening to the meditation room. The hallway was too narrow to see into the room from where Graim stood.

  “What’s the meaning of this?” he heard her say.

  “What’s happened?”

  Jenza stepped aside, and Graim saw the end of the cloth flat against the floor.

  “Where’s the body gone?” he said, injecting a decent helping of surprise into it.

  “Where’s Jin Hoep?”

  Graim looked further into the room. Indeed, Hoep was nowhere to be seen. Graim moved forward and checked the other rooms.

  “Nothing,” he said.

  “We cannot lose the body,” Jenza said.

  “He must have taken it,” Graim replied. “He said he was going to destroy it.”

  Jenza shook her head.

  “I can’t see any evidence of the body being moved,” she said. “Nothing’s disturbed.”

  Graim put a look of confusion on his face. He was enjoying this.

  “How can that be?”

  He watched Jenza clench her hands again.

  “Jin Hoep must have left the house,” she said.

  “What should we do?” Graim asked. “Harrar will have reached the city by now. More Telar-Val will be on their way.”

  “Yes, but they are several hours away. We must find the body before they arrive.”

  *

  Jenza glanced at Graim. He looked as if he’d go to the ends of the world for her, but looks were often deceiving. Something was wrong, she knew. She’d known it from the moment she’d seen him walking towards her; her sense had singled him out as the danger. Whilst she was confident he wouldn’t attack her outside, the same could not be said now they were within the house.

  She had prepared herself for it, but no attack had come. Instead, he had gone through this whole discovery drama, acting out every emotion as if he was genuinely experiencing them. She didn’t know why he felt the need to lie, and it put her on edge. Time was slipping away. If the Telar-Val turned up and there was no body…

  Ideas ran through her mind. None of the outcomes were good. She had to buy more time. She had to. She had to…

  *

  “Why are you lying to me?” Jenza asked.

  “Lying?” Graim said. “I’m not lying.”

  Jenza stared at her subordinate.

  “I haven’t got time for this. Neither of us do. Lying is a serious offence, as well you know.”

  “I am not lying,” Graim said.

  There was a smugness about the man she had never liked.

  “And your witchcraft won’t be accepted as evidence,” he said.

  “You’re stepping over the line, Graim.”

  “I hereby invoke my right to take command. You are no longer fit to…”

  The sword entered his chest. He had been distracted. He looked down and along the shaft, along Jenza’s arm. She stood, holding the sword that had pierced his heart. Graim fell backwards, feeling the sword leaving his body.

  The Ja stood over him.

  “You shouldn’t have underestimated me,” she said.

  She hadn’t wanted to, but he’d left her no choice. She looked at Graim, his eyes now staring at nothing, his life at an end. A thought struck her. This could buy her more time.

  Jenza stripped Graim of his armour, shaved his head, and dressed him like a Ka with clothes from the shelves in the bedroom. She wrapped his old uniform and hair in the rug that had been beneath the Jin when he’d fallen, and took it outside.

  Next she placed the cloth over Graim. That’s what they would find, and with luck none of them would know him. They would assume it was the Ka. At least they would for a while. By the time they found out, perhaps she would have found the real body, and she could blame the diversion on Hoep.

  After all, that was what Graim had planned to do.

  Ja Jenza took Graim’s bag containing the Lyrin dagger, and slung it over her shoulder.

  She took one final look at the scene, then moved away from the house, towards the back of the Complex. She reached the large wooden gate in the perimeter fence, and opened it with one of the keys from the Ka’s house. Beyond the door was the desert. This was where she’d burn the evidence.

  She locked the gate behind her, and walked out into the wasteland beyond.

  What do I do now? She had to find the body, or Hoep. He was not the best Telar-Val, by a long way, but he was canny, and that was the challenge.

  When she thought she was far enough away, she put the clothes on floor, and used a tinderbox to set them alight. As they burned, Ja Jenza watched the smoke from the clothes drift up and away. It reminded her of the Resurrection. She closed her eyes, thought of Jin Hoep and held out her hands to try and find him. She didn’t know if it was even possible, but at that moment, it was all she could think to do.

  Messages

  I’m safe, Hoep thought. Whatever it was Graim had planned, I got the better of him.

  Hoep paused for breath. Moving in the tunnel was hard going. He was surprised he’d done it. Surprised he’d had the guts to do it. He’d taken a chance, and, for once, it had worked out. He looked at the fire-rock in his hand, and wondered how it remained so cool. It seemed like magic to him.

  After Graim had left Hoep alone at the Ka’s house, he’d regained some of his composure, and with it the memory of the tunnels which ran, hidden, under the houses.

  Ka Loy had told him about them a few days before his Resurrection. Hoep had been meditating when he’d heard a noise, and had surfaced from the meditation to see her standing in the doorway to the room.

  “Ka Loy,” he’d said.

  “Hoep,” she’d replied. “I have seen something.”

  She did not look her usual self. She looked old and frail, as if she’d been through hell, and knew she had to go back.

  She’d waited by the door, and Hoep could tell she was waiting for him. He picked up his Blinks in preparation for going outside, but Ka Loy had put her hand on his arm. She was shaking.

  “You won’t need your Blinks,” she’d said.

  Hoep was surprised, but put them back, and followed his Ka out into the cool night.

  “Don’t be afraid,” she’d said.

  “I am not afraid,” he’d replied. “I am with you.”

  Ka Loy had taken him towards the desert, where the houses stopped, and all that stood between them and the desert was the formidable wall and high back gate of the Complex. They had gone close to the wall, and stopped.

  “There will come a time,” she’d said, “when you will need this information. I do not know why. I must show you and hope you realise the need when the time comes.”

  She had reached down, and cleared sand from the top of a metal hatch.

  “This,” she’d said, “is a pathway; a tunnel. Somewhere to lead the children should they ever need to be led. It comes out at the front of the Complex. The very front.”

  Hoep had watched Ka Loy climb down into the hole. He’d followed. It was the first time he had been in such a small space, and he’d felt worried by it.

  “There will come a time, when you must use the tunnel to escape. You will be older, near thirty years; that much I saw. You will be older, but you will still be scared.”

  “I understand,” the boy had said.

  “But that is not all…” Ka Loy had said, turning to him. “There is something else, and it is the worst truth of all…”

  *

  In the tunnel, Hoep knew it was today she had foreseen. He didn’t understand how, and even Ka Loy had had no idea, but something had given her the power to see Hoep in this shaft, undoubtedly crawling for his life. It wasn’t much of a life, Hoep knew. Yet it was enough for him. He was the lowest of the low in the Telar-Val, and it was where he felt most com
fortable.

  The tunnel went around the camp, he remembered. Off the main shaft, several rooms housed spaces to keep the children safe. He didn’t go into the rooms. Ka Loy had told him to head around the shaft, around the camp only. She had specifically ordered him not to go into any of the rooms, and that was fine by him. He had no intention of lingering in this confined space any longer than he had to.

  Hoep kept moving, looking back every now and then, though he could see less behind him than he could in front. He stopped a moment to wipe the sweat from his brow, and when he looked up, he saw something outlined in the gloom. A figure, looking in his direction.

  He caught a scream in his throat. She had been right…

  The figure moved towards him. Hoep tried to scramble backwards, but only succeeded in bumping his head on the roof of the tunnel.

  “Stay away,” he said, though his voice held no power. “Please, stay away.”

  There was nowhere he could go. Hoep closed his eyes, and brought his arms up to shield himself.

  “Hoep?” a woman’s voice said. “Is that you?”

  Memories flooded back. Hoep opened his eyes and looked up. This was not possible.

  “Ka Loy,” he said. “Are you here?”

  The woman who was Ka Loy blinked and shook her head.

  “I don’t know how I got here,” she said. “Or why you’re older now.”

  “You came to me, when I was younger. You told me about this.”

  “Did I?” she replied.

  “You tell me how to get out,” Hoep continued. “You tell me about the passage.”

  “Then I will,” she said. “But I must tell you something else, too,” and now she had that grave look Hoep had seen on her face when she’d appeared at his door all those years ago.

  “I know,” he said. “You’ve already told me.”

  Ka Loy nodded.

  “Then I sh…” she said, and disappeared.

  Back when Hoep had been a boy, Ka Loy had turned to him.

  “The worst thing about all of this…” she’d said, then paused, unsure of herself. Hoep had been so scared he could hardly breathe. “The worst thing is,” she’d continued. “You are not in here alone.”

  Carriage

  The horses were gone, and there was no sign of Hossip.

  “Where’d they all go?” Visenai asked. She stood in the middle of the stables, confused. The coachman had given her three of the horses to look after, and she had grown close to them.

  “I don’t know,” Ma Poppun said.

  It was likely Hossip had taken them, but why? Did he have something to do with the deaths in the hall? It was a possibility, but not one the Ma was ready to believe just yet. She had known the man for many years, and he’d never behaved in a way that suggested he’d be behind this.

  The Ma looked at Visenai, who stood waiting for the cook to tell her their next move. They had to leave, she knew, but how? Unless they could find horses, they would be forced to leave on foot, and Ma Poppun didn’t think she’d last very long like that.

  There’s the carriage, she thought. Yes, the carriage might be sensible. It could hold supplies as well as themselves. They’d still need horses to pull it, but she’d worry about that when the time came. She knew where it was housed, but hadn’t seen it for years, and didn’t know what state it’d be in.

  “How much can you carry?” the older woman asked the child.

  Visenai flexed her non-existent muscles.

  “Everything we need,” Visenai said.

  Despite herself, and despite the present situation, Ma Poppun laughed.

  “Come here, girl,” she said, and held out her arms.

  The Ma didn’t think the child would move at first. She seemed hesitant, almost stuck to the spot, but then, as if she’d been blown by a sudden strong gust of wind, she swept into Ma Poppun’s arms and buried her head in the woman’s breast.

  Visenai cried then. Great whooping sobs, that threatened to bring the whole stable down. Ma Poppun made sure she held on tightly to the girl, and the pair of them stood there like that for some time, both crying, one about what had happened, and the other about what was yet to come.

  Unbound

  Where am I?

  You are falling.

  Why am I falling? Am I asleep?

  This is not sleep.

  If not sleep, then what?

  Open your eyes.

  I can’t. I can’t open my eyes. I have no strength.

  You had no strength.

  What does that mean?

  You are falling.

  I cannot remember.

  Open your eyes.

  They are heavy.

  Fight. You are a fighter.

  I have never been a fighter.

  But you always wanted to be.

  But I never was.

  That was the past tense.

  Was it? Why?

  You are falling.

  I am opening my eyes now.

  Good.

  Stars were tugging at Ka Pinto’s clothes. Taking them off, piece by piece.

  I have been here before.

  Yes, you have.

  I should not be here now.

  You should not.

  So why am I?

  Why are you indeed?

  Perhaps this is death. The final death.

  It is not.

  How would you know? You are me. The voice in my head.

  I am not you.

  Then… then who are you?

  I am your Bound.

  Bound?

  When you Resurrect, one of us is Bound to you. That is how we live.

  You live inside us?

  Yes.

  But we don’t know that.

  You are not told.

  What happens to you when we die?

  We are Unbound. We are free to travel and Bind to others.

  This is madness. I have gone mad.

  Someone murdered you.

  Ka Pinto had a flash of memory. Saw Gideon standing in the house.

  Gideon.

  Gideon.

  Why did he kill me?

  To be born again.

  I am just a Ka.

  No. You were a Ka.

  Pinto watched his flesh being peeled away by the stars, and remembered what a pleasant pain it was.

  What am I now?

  You are what you need to be. What you always wanted to be.

  A warrior?

  Yes.

  And you will be there?

  I will.

  This is… unexpected.

  I will help you. As I have done all these years.

  You have to stay with me?

  I choose to.

  Thank you. I will need you.

  That is more than likely.

  There was no plinth. I did not Resurrect on a plinth.

  It is fine. You will be placed at the site of the first Resurrection.

  And where is that?

  A place you do not even know exists.

  Pinto was almost gone now.

  Will this be a long journey?

  Yes.

  And dangerous?

  Yes.

  And will I succeed?

  I do not know. That is the future. I do not see that.

  Will I remember this?

  No.

  Do you have a name?

  You may call me Slate.

  Then let me tell you, I am not scared, Slate.

  You should be.

  Pinto frowned, and was gone.

  Simplify

  Gideon did not understand. Where once he never questioned the food store at the front of the Complex, he now doubted it had anything to do with food at all. He had never seen this many locks on the front of a building. This would keep an army out, he thought.

  Or an army in, his mind replied.

  He had no way of getting through. And it wouldn’t be long until the place was crawling with Telar-Val.

  You’re missing something.

&n
bsp; Gideon ignored the voice in his head; didn’t let it through. Still, he looked once more. Heavy wooden door. Fortified. Locked. He had no way of breaking in.

  Sometimes the best way of solving something is also the simplest.

  It was a locked wooden door.

  Simplify.

  It was a locked door.

  Simplify.

  It was a door.

  And what do you do if you want to go through?

  “That’s mad,” Gideon said. “It could be anyone behind that door.”

  You expect a guard. They expect an unarmed Ka.

  Gideon took off his weapons, and hid them in one of the planted areas. Then he went and knocked. Nothing happened. He hammered his fist on the door.

  “Someone should hear that,” he said to himself.

  There was a scraping noise, a latch moving. A smaller door, at eye level, opened up.

  “Ka Yeta, if that’s you wanting to come back…” he heard a man’s voice say in a slightly playful, flirtatious, way. The man gaped at Gideon. “Who are you?”

  Simplify.

  Gideon made himself look anxious.

  “It’s Ka Yeta,” he said. “She’s been hurt. In the medical centre. We need to get her out, quickly.”

  “Hurt?” the man said. He was worried. “How has she been hurt?”

  “It’s the healer, he’s attacked her. There’s no one to help.”

  “Who are you?”

  “I came in yesterday. I’m training to be a Ka.”

  This was the biggest gamble. There was every chance this man had spoken to whoever had been on duty last night. Gideon was gambling on them having performed a sloppy handover.

  The man looked Gideon over for a few seconds more. Then he sighed.

  Keep your cover.

  Why?

  There could be twenty people in there.

  The small door closed, and the main bolts on the door were unlocked. Gideon took a step backwards as the door was pulled inwards. The guard, almost a foot taller than Gideon, and twice his size in muscle alone, stood looking at him.

  “You wait by this door,” he said. “I’ll go.”

  “Just you?” Gideon asked.

  “Have to leave someone with the base at all times,” the man said. “That’ll be you.”