The Blood of Whisperers

by Devin Madson

  Kin’s fingers closed around my wrist. He twisted, merciless, and unable to hold the knife any longer it slipped from my hand. It hit the floor, sliding point first into the reeds. My gut hollowed. I could not look at him and tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip, bruising my skin.

  ‘Why, Hana?’

  He spoke quietly, hurt throbbing in his voice.

  ‘Let me go.’

  ‘Let you go? Let you go!’ Kin got to his feet, dragging me with him. ‘I offered you everything, everything, and this is how you repay me? Is that why you sent for me? You wanted me to walk to my death?’ His hand pulled back and I braced myself, not caring if he hit me. But the blow did not come. Gripping my shoulders, Kin shook me roughly. ‘Why?’

  No words came. My thoughts were a mess. There had been so much anger, but now it ebbed away leaving nothing but dull horror echoing in my heart.

  ‘Why, Hana? Why do you hate me so much?’

  There were so many words, so many excuses, but they all stuck in my throat. ‘I… I…’ I shook my head.

  ‘What a fool you make me!’

  With a growl he threw me toward the door. I stumbled awkwardly and hit the screen. Thin wood and paper crashed around me, splinters scratching my face as I fell into the passage. Debris rained down and Kin was there, such hatred in his face that I recoiled.

  Shouts echoed along the passage.

  ‘Majesty,’ someone gasped, every breath ragged. ‘The rebels have taken the Willow Gate.’

  ‘Let them come!’ Kin snarled.

  Katashi. I tried to scramble to my feet, but before I could, Kin had me by the hair. Curls ripped out of my head.

  ‘Majesty?’

  ‘Get my executioner,’ he ordered as the Keep blurred around me. ‘I’ve caught a rebel assassin and I will have this traitor’s head before Katashi comes for mine.’

  Chapter 22

  On the balcony above the Entrance Circle, General Ryoji stood like a silent sentinel. Tonight he looked older than his years, his expression set in something like Kin’s perpetual frown.

  ‘You sent for me, General?’ I said, joining him at the railing. At intervals along the balcony stood a dozen archers, each staring down at the hall below. There, the great doors of the Keep stood closed.

  ‘Yes, Your Excellency,’ he said. ‘Katashi Otako is at this moment on his way. He arrived at the gates some time ago with two of his men. He wants to talk.’

  ‘Talk. And you believe that, General? You were at the meeting. There is nothing Katashi wants to do less than bargain with Kin.’

  ‘You think I don’t know that?’ the general snapped. ‘But when Katashi Otako arrives at our gates carrying a white flag and seeking speech with His Majesty, I am in no position to have him sent away. Before you suggest it might be a trap, I would draw your attention to the number of guards I have present, and point out that I could easily have left you to your bed.’

  ‘Why didn’t you, General?’ I said. ‘What possible stupidity could I add that you haven’t already provided?’

  ‘While I have been informed that you are to be relieved of your position, you are, until morning, still the Minister of the Left and as such–’

  ‘And as such still your superior. Next time–’

  ‘Next time? I’m sorry, Your Excellency, but it seems unlikely there will be a next time.’

  He wasn’t afraid of me. I was losing my touch. Endymion had showed no fear either, damning me with his every breath.

  Three brandings. Fading bruises ghosted across his brow and marred his wrists, and each branding was a scabbing mess. There had always been the risk it would turn him, but it had been a risk I’d had to take. Back in Shimai his Empathy had been weak and unpractised, now it lacked restraint, ranging over the world with the subtlety of a mallet. And it would only grow stronger.

  With every muscle tensed, I gripped the railing, the silent hall wearing on my nerves. ‘Don’t send a message to Kin,’ I said. ‘Not until we know what is happening.’

  General Ryoji gave me an odd look. ‘Too late, Your Excellency,’ he said. ‘I already did.’

  A muffled shout sounded outside. One of Ryoji’s guards came along the gallery. ‘They are here, General,’ he said.

  It was on the tip of my tongue to order them sent away. I had touched Endymion’s mind, had reason to believe Katashi was already inside the walls, but without proof General Ryoji was all too likely to run counter to my counsel. Superior or not, I knew he would not listen to me.

  ‘Archers ready!’ General Ryoji called. ‘Open the doors.’

  It took three men to open each door, dragging them, grinding, over worn stones. Night spilled in. It licked at the heels of the incoming guards and bathed three men in darkness. They entered the Keep with their hoods drawn, their faces only visible to those who could see them at eye level. One of them carried a large bow upon his back while the others appeared not to be armed at all.

  A scrap of white silk fluttered in the bowman’s hand. Fine hands, long fingers just pinching the corner of the silk. They were not the hands of an archer.

  The dark hood turned toward me and I felt the smile I could not see. I took a deep breath and the smell was there, the strange scent always at the very edge of my senses.

  Malice.

  ‘General,’ I said. ‘Order your men to fire. That man is not Katashi Otako.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘There is no time to explain. Order them to put back their hoods and then shoot them if you wish, but shoot them and shoot them quickly.’

  General Ryoji’s fingers gripped the railing. ‘You have requested speech with Emperor Kin,’ he said, projecting his voice down to the uninvited guests. ‘Set back your hoods and identify yourselves.’

  ‘I have told you who I am,’ the central figure said. ‘Your guards have already identified me as Lord Katashi Otako.’

  I knew that voice.

  General Ryoji hesitated, glancing at me, but it was already too late. He had let them inside the walls.

  ‘Few of my guards would know what Katashi Otako looks like,’ he said, and I could hear the wariness in his tone. He had let his men be fooled by a black sash, a longbow and noble features. ‘Archers, draw.’

  All around the Entrance Circle bowstrings creaked, and the general spoke again. ‘Set back your hoods,’ he said, the steel in his voice serving to remind me he was no fool. He had kept Kin alive on many occasions when he should have died, but tonight his luck was out.

  A chuckle sounded soft on the air. ‘As you wish.’

  The three imposters put back their hoods. From the centre, Malice looked up at me, his lips twisted into something like a smile. I knew neither of his companions, one a man with slick blond hair, the other not a man at all but a woman with an eruption of wild curls.

  ‘Identify yourselves,’ General Ryoji said.

  Malice made an ironic little bow. ‘But of course. My name is Malice and these are my Vices, Spite and Adversity.’ Again his eyes drifted to me. ‘Aren’t you going to say hello, Darius?’

  ‘Fire,’ I ordered. ‘Give the command now or you won’t get another chance.’

  The Vices. The name garnered fear everywhere and the general required no further prompting.

  ‘Take aim!’

  An order to spare Malice leapt to my tongue, but I bit it back. Better this way. Better an end.

  ‘Fire!’

  Arrows flew. A grunt, then a scream gurgled from a blood-clogged throat. Beside me an archer toppled over the railing, an arrow buried in his back. He hit the stones below with a sickening crunch.

  Malice hadn’t moved. Spite stood in front of him, arrows hovering in the air between his splayed hands. Sweat beaded his brow and his hands shook, fighting the force that should have seen each sharp tip through his chest. An arrow vanished, reap
pearing in the arm of another archer. The man let out a cry, echoed by another; a grunt, a scream, Spite’s strange skill sending each arrow back to its master. There was no pattern. Through the leg, through the neck, through the eye; they shot from nowhere and dug deep, the stench of blood on the air.

  In less than a minute every one of General Ryoji’s archers lay dead or injured, the hall filled with groans. Then, like a man gone without water for days, Spite hit the ground.

  ‘Spite,’ Malice said, smiling up at me. ‘I thought you would approve of his name.’

  ‘Kill them!’ General Ryoji ordered.

  From all around the Entrance Circle, guards advanced.

  Leaving Spite where he had fallen, Malice pulled the young woman toward the wall. Guards closed in on them, wary, sure there was no way they could escape, but I knew the moment Malice winked at me that they were wrong. Malice did not slow his pace. He strode to the stone wall, the girl’s hand gripped in his. They hit it together. They thinned, their flesh sliding through the wall like water.

  Guards dashed forward, patting the stones. They ran, shouting, out into the passages, others left to mill around the wounded, shocked faces everywhere.

  ‘What are they?’ General Ryoji had paled, his eyes fixed to the wall.

  ‘Vices,’ I said. ‘You’ll soon wish you didn’t know. Warn your guards. I’m going to find Kin.’

  I went to the door, aware of shouts echoing along the upper passage.

  ‘They’re on the walls?’ General Ryoji asked, incredulous.

  ‘No–’

  A guard tumbled down the stairs, his head slamming into the wall. Blood covered his face and he fell in a crumpled heap at my feet, three arrows in his back.

  ‘Katashi.’ The word was drawn from me like a curse. ‘Malice doesn’t know how to use a bow.’ I turned on the general. ‘What are you waiting for? Go! The Pikes have found a way in. I’ll get Kin.’

  ‘His Majesty’s life–’

  ‘Will end all the faster if you don’t go now. I can look after him. Go!’

  General Ryoji drew his sword and was at the stairs in an instant, orders issuing with every step.

  The fastest way to the throne room was to follow him, but there were other passages and other ways. I had to reach Kin before Katashi did. I could not let him die.

  I returned the way I had come, back into the lower passages. Here, sounds of battle echoed around me, seeming to come from everywhere at once. Out in the courtyard, Kin’s dogs were barking. Courtiers and servants ran past me, pushing each other in their haste while others stuck their heads out of rooms demanding to know what was going on. In the madness, I grabbed a passing guard. ‘Where is Kin?’

  ‘In the throne room, Your Excellency,’ he replied breathlessly. ‘He’s sent for the headsman. Assassins.’

  Swearing vociferously, I let the man go and plunged on, taking the stairs and doubling back through the dim passages. Once on the Court Floor, I ran to the throne room only to find the doors wide open and soldiers crammed into the aperture.

  ‘Out of the way!’

  Heads turned. The Imperial Guards knew my voice and tried to move, but there was such a press that all I could do was push my way through the mass of stinking armour and sweat.

  Inside the throne room hastily lit fire pits belched black smoke. Here, the elite Imperial Guards stood tense, Kin in their midst. This is what the soldiers craned their necks to see – their emperor standing in the middle of the floor with a guard at his feet. The man’s hands were bound. Kin held the rope in his ruthless grip and scowled at my approach. The soldier’s head was bowed, a helmet crammed over golden curls.

  Hana.

  Kin looked wild. Hair had pulled free of his topknot and his jaw was set so hard he might have been grinding unspoken words.

  ‘Majesty, what are you doing?’ I said, pushing men out of the way. The sounds of battle grew, screams echoing through the castle. We were running out of time.

  ‘Removing the head of a rebel snake, Laroth,’ he snarled. ‘You are no longer in my service. Leave now, unless you have a fancy to see your head on a spike beside this one.’ Kin jolted Hana roughly, but she did not speak, did not fight, did not even struggle to be free.

  ‘Majesty, I–’

  He gripped the front of my robe, his eyes burning with rage. ‘Don’t push your luck, Laroth,’ he said. ‘I will do it. I would see you both burn for the injury you have done me. If I see your face ever again, I will break it.’

  Hana looked miserably small, her ferocity spent. She would let him do it. I could see it in her face. She would bow her head for the executioner and he would be the one to suffer for it, for the temper he could not control. He was the emperor. He would not listen to reason.

  ‘I took an oath,’ I said quietly. ‘And I am not relieved of it until the sun rises. Remember that. Remember I had no choice.’

  Anger flared in his face. He would have demanded an explanation, but I turned away, pushing through the crowd of guards before he had time to draw breath.

  The passages were full of noise. Men shouted, echoes bouncing back as though the walls themselves were screaming. Two of Kin’s men pushed past, swords drawn, both sprinting after the flicker of a black sash disappearing around the corner.

  Blood splattered the screens. How had it come to this? Gods only knew where Katashi would take the empire if Kin failed, and fail he would if he ripped out his own heart, if he knowingly executed Emperor Lan’s only daughter.

  I turned a corner, almost running into a Pike. Blood streamed from a gouge on his forehead and his eyes flashed with bloodlust. I stepped back just as he swung, the sharp spikes of his mace coming so close that air rushed by my face. The weapon smashed through the wall, splintering wood. It caught in the wreckage and I took my chance, jabbing my elbow into the man’s kidney. Stunned, the Pike stumbled back into another figure. His feet stopped. His eyes widened. A knife was thrust into his side. Another slid through his throat and was ripped out, sending blood pouring onto the floor. I could not save myself from the splatter. It touched my bare skin, its pain fleeting.

  The Pike fell heavily and I found a scarred man watching me. A long gash travelled from his hairline down his cheek, passing through an eye equally devoid of eyelid and remorse. He did not lower his knives.

  ‘You said you would look after Lady Hana,’ Shin said. ‘I agreed to wait while you got her out with your fancy talking, and look where that got us.’

  ‘It was not I who put her in this danger.’

  The man scowled. ‘You will get her out of it. Now. I cannot fight an army single handed.’

  ‘Would you try, for her?’

  ‘Yes,’ he growled.

  ‘Good, then go to the throne room,’ I said. ‘Do everything you can to stall them.’

  ‘I’ll kill the executioner.’

  ‘No. Kin would just get someone else to do it, someone a lot less skilled. Trust me, I’ve seen people endure a dozen blows to the neck before their head is removed. You don’t want that. Just stall. I only need a few more minutes.’

  The man didn’t even nod, just stalked away like a wolf.

  At the door of my room I spoke a silent prayer and slid the screen. Endymion was still there, tied to the divan. He was not quite as I had left him. Blood dribbled from a split lip, and a rebel stood over him, levelling a sword at his throat.

  ‘Where’s the minister, boy?’ he said, pressing the edge into Endymion’s skin. ‘Tell me or I’ll slice you, eh?’

  Endymion saw me.

  The rebel spun around. ‘You!’ He grinned, misshaping the faded branding on his cheek.

  ‘Yes?’ I said. ‘Do I know you?’

  ‘No, but I know you. I’m going to skin you alive and sell that face to the highest bidder.’

  He took a step toward me, his sword hovering low. />
  ‘I suggest you leave,’ I said. ‘Or it might be your skin.’

  The rebel leered. ‘Funny.’

  ‘Hilarious,’ I agreed. ‘Last chance.’

  The man did not move, just lifted his brows, amusement twisting his lips. I knew what he saw when he looked at me – a weak man, a man dressed in expensive clothes whose manicured hands would never get dirty. He saw no weapon, no way I could defend myself, and already mentally narrating this story to his cronies, he waited for my humiliating capitulation.

  I let my gaze shift, resting on Endymion. The Pike looked down. And Endymion smashed his foot into the man’s ankle.

  Sucking in a hiss of pain, he turned. ‘You little–’

  I stepped forward and jammed my heel into the back of his knee. His leg buckled. He tried to steady himself, halfway between standing and falling, and leaving him no time to recover, I gripped his hair and yanked. His head came back, his throat exposed. Instinct came to me. I knew the force I needed to incapacitate, and I chopped the side of my hand into his neck.

  The rebel crumpled, gasping. A little harder and his throat would have been crushed beyond repair, but he had no breath left to thank me.

  Endymion kicked the man’s foot. ‘Is he dying? How did you do that?’

  ‘You should have been watching,’ I said, kneeling beside him. ‘I did warn him.’

  With bedraggled hair falling into his eyes, Endymion glared at me. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘We have to save your sister,’ I said, hating the words I had to speak. ‘I need your help.’

  ‘Hana? Why? What’s happening?’

  ‘I haven’t time to explain, but you’re the only one who can help me.’ I had my hand on the knot, ready to release him. ‘You can teach me pain later, but for now, will you come?’

  He nodded. We had no choice but to trust each other.

  One tug upon the sash and it fell loose. Endymion got to his feet, but didn’t immediately follow me to the door. ‘I can feel you,’ he said.

  ‘So I am aware,’ I said, the vulnerability oddly freeing. ‘Are you coming?’