by Travis Bughi
“Yes,” she said.
Takeo bolted out of the room, and Emily followed. The torchlight was brighter outside their cell, but it took only a moment for her eyes to adjust.
They were on the bottom level with two floors above them. The prison was like an open cylinder, with cells lining every wall and walkways circling each level with ladders that led from one to another. Despite their soldier disguises, Emily recognized Ehuang and Ugly on the second level and Fat and Chung on the third. Besides several prisoners on the first floor, only Ugly had seen them, and he froze for one crucial moment before saying anything.
Takeo was already flying up the first ladder, wakizashi in hand. The prisoners’ yelling intensified and drowned out the banging his feet made on the metal as he took the rungs three at a time and bounded onto the second floor. Ugly gave a useless shout over the crowd, but the other three ninjas turned only just in time to watch as Takeo effortlessly parried Ugly’s attack and cut him down. Ehuang bolted for the nearest ladder while Fat and Chung reached into their clothes.
Emily was on them, taking aim and chucking her first star at Fat. It went only narrowly wide, striking the guardrail and making Fat pause and duck for cover. The prisoners locked away near them receded into the corners of their cells, and Emily’s second throw, at Chung, proved better. The star cut his exposed cheek as it passed by, and the ninja leapt back in shock.
Takeo was rushing for Ehuang, but stopped when he saw her climb the nearest ladder, headed down rather than up. The little ninja’s eyes were alight with fury and burning with hatred for Emily, and Takeo’s eyes flickered for only a moment before he turned, grabbed the closest ladder heading up, and ascended.
Emily saw Ehuang, too, and flung two more ninja stars at Chung and Fat before throwing her last one at Ehuang, but none of the three hit their marks. Her first two bounced against the cover Chung and Fat were taking while the third flew just above Ehuang’s head. The ninja hit the bottom floor and drew her wakizashi.
“You killed him!” Ehuang screamed. “You killed him! You whore!”
Emily’s newfound dagger was in hand as Ehuang came charging. Her shouting was unnerving—Emily had never heard the ninja make so much noise—but that didn’t stop Emily from parrying and ducking out of Ehuang’s path. When the ninja went by, Emily saw she was crying. Tears were flowing down her cheeks so thickly that they soaked down her neck and into her leather uniform.
“You killed him!” she cried. “You killed him! You killed him! I hate you! I’ll KILL YOU!”
Ehuang charged again, swinging the wakizashi like an axe, but her vision was obscured by tears, and Emily hardly had to move to avoid the blow. She stepped in, grabbed Ehuang’s wrist, and rammed her knife into the ninja’s chest. The sharp tip pierced the leather easily and only stopped when the hilt slammed against it.
“You killed him,” Ehuang repeated, gasping. “Lei . . . she killed you . . . Lei, please don’t leave me. I love you.”
“I’m so sorry,” Emily heard herself say.
The ninja’s strength faded fast, and Emily lowered her to the ground. She watched as Ehuang continued to mumble, her voice fading until she went limp, her eyes staring up at the ceiling with the lingering words of love and loss hanging on her lips. Emily didn’t even know why she was still holding the ninja, but she found it hard to let go. Her throat was thick, and the hint of tears lingered behind her eyes.
They are not men. The words ran through her head. They will not show you mercy.
It was as if the ninja hadn’t tried to fight. Ehuang’s attack had been pathetic and halfhearted. Emily wondered if it was because she had wanted to die.
“Emily!” Takeo called.
Emily blinked and looked up. Takeo was on the third floor, sword in hand and dripping blood. Fat and Chung lay dead at his feet.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She looked at Ehuang again and finally released her.
“I’m sorry, but I have a love, too,” she whispered to the corpse and then looked up to Takeo. In a louder voice, she said, “I’ll be fine!”
He nodded, and she sprinted up the ladders to him. When she reached him, he used the keyring to unlock the prison room and then chucked the ring into the nearest cell. One of the prisoners caught it, cheered, and began frantically trying keys.
“Come on,” he said and took her hand. “We have to reach Katsu. Lead the way.”
Emily gave a curt nod and sprinted out of the prison. A few twists and turns and they broke into the open courtyard. Chaos and bedlam greeted them.
Huge rocks the size of gnomes and a couple the size of humans lay scattered in the courtyard with the debris of shattered bricks and fragmented wood all round. Some of the rocks were on fire, releasing black smoke into the dark sky and lighting up the area like massive torches. Up on the walls, samurai were shouting, and there seemed to be a bitter battle happening near the drawbridge. Men were screaming defiantly and rushing across the yard and up onto the walls toward the battle. Emily turned to see two guards lying dead outside the prison entrance, their throats spouting blood around ninja stars.
“Which way?” Takeo shouted.
Suddenly, a hail of burning boulders rose from the sea, bright beacons in the sky. Their approach was ominously silent, barely distinguishable over the pounding of waves on the castle walls, until they crashed into Katsu’s keep with a deafening roar, shattering walls and setting fire to all they touched. Emily’s heart leapt at Takeo’s light touch as the destruction fell around them.
“This way,” she said and took off into the madness.
Chapter 32
She led Takeo across the courtyard to the door she’d been brought to before, and the two ducked inside and went up the spiral staircase. The burning boulders and screams of the dying quickened their pace, and Emily feared that they were much too late. Katsu might already be gone, taking Heliena with him, but somehow she doubted it. He was too superior for that. He would not admit defeat so quickly. He would be there. He had to be there.
Emily’s back seemed nothing more than a minor annoyance compared to the thunder that pounded in her chest. When they got to the first hall, they found it occupied by servants who screamed and ran at the sight of Takeo with a bloody wakizashi in hand. Emily and Takeo ignored them and sprinted down the hall, through the door on their left, and up another flight of stairs. When they came upon the long, narrow hall that led to the room in which Emily had been lashed, they stopped.
At the other end of the hall was Renshu, flanked by the two guards that had taken her. All three were dashing away towards the doors leading to Katsu’s room, their laminar armor clanking loudly.
“Miyazi!” Takeo yelled.
The tone of his voice made Emily’s blood run cold. It held only a hint of anger, but hid so much more, and she could only remember him speaking that way twice before: once of the oni who’d slaughtered his friends and once to her when he’d thought she had killed Okamoto. Miyazi and his companions heard it, too, and they froze just before the double doors. When they turned, they saw Takeo making purposeful strides toward them with Emily a pace behind.
“Miyazi!” Takeo repeated. “You vile sack of cowardly filth.”
Even from this distance, Emily could see Renshu recoil, and the guards beside him seemed to back away from the larger samurai. Confidence flowed into Emily’s heart, and she drew up closer behind Takeo.
“Takeo!” Renshu shouted in disbelief. “How did you get free?”
Takeo’s only reply was to trudge silently forward, closing the distance, eyes dark with malicious intent. Renshu got ahold of himself, pushed the guards, and yelled, “Go! Get him!”
The two samurai hesitated, which spoke volumes of their fear. Duty and honor were their chains, though, and they shared a glance and then charged. Takeo struck down the first one and parried the second, sending him into Emily’s dagger.
Both Takeo and Emily picked up the fallen katanas, and Takeo tossed Lei’s wakizash
i to the floor, making it ring loudly.
“Don’t kill me, Takeo,” Miyazi said, stepping back toward the door. “Think about this. What do you want? Name it, and it’s yours. You know my family’s name. You know the weight it carries. You’ll only make enemies, but I can give you anything you want. Lord Katsu listens to me! You know that!”
“I want you to die,” Takeo replied.
They were getting close now, only a couple of paces away. Miyazi hadn’t even drawn his sword.
“What’s wrong?” Takeo asked. “You were so confident the last time we fought, on that ship. Is it because I was unarmed? Keeping your sword sheathed won’t save you. That never saved any of the villagers or prisoners you killed.”
“You killed them, too,” Renshu stuttered.
“And I’ll forever regret it.”
“Wait! Wait! I can tell you who your father was!”
Takeo leapt forward, and the big samurai gave a shout before the katana struck him down. His heavy weight, further encumbered by the laminar armor, fell to the floor with a clash. More blood seeped into Katsu’s keep, and Miyazi murmured until Takeo’s second strike opened his head.
Takeo was breathing hard, despite the lack of effort. Emily stepped up beside him.
“He didn’t defend himself,” she said in wonder.
“He was always a coward,” Takeo said.
So much death, Emily thought, looking at the corpse. Now I see why Quartus could not do this.
“You didn’t want to know about your father?” she asked.
“If it had been important, my brother would have told me,” Takeo replied.
He wrenched his sword free from Renshu’s head and flicked the blood from the blade. Then they heard a gasp and glanced back to see a servant staring at them from the end of the hall, a young girl who yelped and ran down the stairs. They could hear her shouts for help echoing along the walls.
“Damn it!” Emily swore. “What do we do now? We can’t fight an army in that room. They’ll surround us.”
Takeo took a quick look at the walls around him and then gave her a cold stare.
“I’ll hold them off,” he said. “This hallway was made for two good samurai to hold off an army. I think one great one should give you enough time.”
Emily froze, thinking to defy him, but knowing that he was right. If they gave up this ground, reinforcements might reach them before Katsu and Heliena were slain. Still, she hated to leave Takeo here by himself. If there were time, she would have argued with him.
“Remember your promise to me,” Emily said and then kissed him.
She entered the room and shut the door behind her.
The room hadn’t changed much since she was last there. The tiny trickles of blood where her skin had opened were dried now, dull in the flickering torchlight, which shuddered as another round of boulders assaulted the fortress. One of the windows had shattered. Katsu was seated, surprisingly calm and patient, before his table of scrolls, reading them over with his monocle, and the sennin was behind him, motionless as if long dead. Only Heliena, having stopped her frantic pacing, noticed her, a mixture of shock, disgust, and—Emily suspected—fear coloring her expression.
“The sennin still says we’ll lose this battle, Miyazi,” Katsu said, head lowered over his scrolls. “Has Osamu prepared the ship yet?”
“I don’t know,” Emily replied. “He’s dead.”
Katsu looked up, and his mouth dropped open. The monocle fell from his hand, hitting the table and spinning on the scrolls until it settled. Emily wasn’t looking at him, though. She and Heliena were sharing a gaze that could freeze a leviathan’s blood.
“Come to die again, farmer?” Heliena asked. “There are no angels to help you this time.”
“I’m not the same person you fought in Themiscyra,” Emily replied. “You’re no match for me now.”
Heliena took a step to the side, and Emily glanced at the bow that lay near Katsu. It was treantwood, amazon make, but unstrung.
“I’ll reach you before you can use it,” Emily warned.
Heliena’s thumbs rubbed the tips of her fingers, and the beautiful woman tossed her hair to one side. Emily noticed that she had grown hers out, as well, though Emily’s was likely longer with its wavy nature.
“I don’t need it.” Heliena spat the words.
The sennin tapped his cane, but in the silence of their animosity, it sounded like a gong, and the women reacted as if it were one. Heliena made a dash for the bow, and Emily broke into a sprint to cross the room. Katsu yelped and scampered from his tables, knocking them over and sending scrolls scattering towards the ground. The sennin never moved, its eyes shut tight and its fingers wrapped loosely around its cane.
Heliena reached her bow, took a knee, and leaned. The string came up, and the bow was notched by the time Emily crossed the spot where she’d been chained. Heliena made a grab for her quiver, but Emily threw the katana at the amazon. She would not release her knife. She was better with a knife.
The katana spun horizontally toward Heliena and slammed into the quiver sideways with the handle striking first. The blade damaged nothing, but it fumbled Heliena’s grip on the quiver and sent arrows raining to the ground like tokens of death. Heliena bent to grab one, but by then, Emily was on her, sweeping with a vicious kick.
Heliena leapt up to avoid the foot, but Emily’s target had not been Heliena’s head. Foot connected with hand, and the bow flew off, spiraling in the air and bouncing along stone until it slammed against a window several paces away, but neither Emily nor Heliena saw it because their gazes were locked on each other.
Emily’s knife cut the air so fast that it whistled like an arrow set loose at max draw. Heliena stumbled as she leapt back. She drew her own knife, barely parrying the next attack. Emily’s foot lashed out and struck Heliena square in the stomach. The beauty coughed as the air was forced from her lungs, and she tumbled backward, falling into and then tripping over Katsu’s overturned tables. The amazon cried out with what little sound she could make and rolled away. When she stood again, she was gasping for breath.
Emily walked around the tables. Heliena began to back away.
“No,” the traitor mumbled. “No, this can’t be.”
Emily was closing the distance. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Katsu clinging tightly to a nearby wall, his face aghast. The dagger in Emily’s hand grew heavy.
“No!” Heliena screamed and charged at Emily, sweeping her knife like mad. “Die!” It was a fast attack, but compared to the swings Takeo had dealt, Emily thought it atrociously slow. Emily dodged the blade and planted a fist in Heliena’s stomach, making the beauty reel.
“No.” Heliena coughed, stumbling back.
“You’re going to die now,” Emily warned.
“NO!” Heliena screamed. “I can’t lose to a stupid FARMER!”
The sennin tapped his cane, and Emily charged. Her knife was twice a blur, sending Heliena retreating again to avoid the blade. Heliena made a quick attack of her own, but Emily had only to twist her shoulder to avoid it. The strike cost Heliena dearly as Emily’s enclosed fist caught the side of her head, striking hard enough to make the woman stagger.
“No, no, no,” Heliena repeated over and over, eyes rolling in her head.
She made another strike so feeble that Emily had only to grab the wrist to stop it. With a quick jerk and twist, Heliena’s back faced Emily with her knife held motionless. Emily’s next kick was to the back of Heliena’s knee, and the traitor fell forward like a samurai ready to bow.
“For Chara,” Emily whispered and slit Heliena’s throat.
The knife felt heavy as it cut, and Heliena’s body lost its strength almost instantly. Emily released her, letting her crash to the ground where her mouth gaped open and closed, muttering ‘no, no, no’ over and over again. Each word was less and less apparent as her lips, her beautiful and luscious lips, quivered less and less. She died in a pool of her own blood that soaked her black,
straight hair, and framed her soft skin. Emily watched the life fade from Heliena’s eyes.
Where is my relief? she wondered. Where is my happiness?
Emily had traveled for more than a year, crossed the whole world, and braved all manner of creatures for this moment. Heliena had been evil, cruel, and heartless. She’d deserved a death one hundred times worse than the one Emily had given her. This was what she had promised to do when Quartus gave his life to her. This was what he’d wanted from her.
But if that was true, then why did she feel so cold? Why did she feel so empty? She’d killed so many other times before—countless times, she realized. She tried to think of all the creatures and men she’d killed, but she could not. She tried to think of the first, and an image of a centaur crashing into a tree came to mind. Or had he survived? She didn’t know. Who had she killed first? Why couldn’t she remember? That should have been important enough to remember. An angel would have remembered, and she carried an angel’s soul. Yet here she was, standing over the corpse she had envisioned seeing for so long, and nothing in the world had changed.
Chara is still gone, she swallowed, and I am nothing more than a killer.
“Is this what you wanted of me Quartus?” she whispered. “Have I made you proud?”
What have I become? How many more must I kill to repay you?
The sound of another’s breath woke Emily from her sorrow. She turned to see Katsu pressed flat against the furthest wall, his face white with fear and his lips quivering. When she looked at him, he gasped and cried out.
From beyond the grave, she swore she heard a whisper. Just one more.
“Emily, listen to me,” Katsu begged.
The sound of yelling and the ring of swords came through the wooden doors of the room. Emily shifted to face the muffled cries followed by death screams, and Katsu’s head tilted towards the sound, too, but his fearful eyes never broke from Emily.
“Emily!” he begged again. “Listen! I can save you! I can tell them to let you leave!”
Looking at Katsu brought Emily back to the present. She remembered his plan to burn Lucifan and his assistance in slaughtering the angels. She remembered how he’d always been the reason Quartus had let her live. She picked up the letters that had been taken from her, the ones to and from Belen, and stuffed them into her vest.
