by Braden, Jill
Hadre’s temper, always much slower to burn than Kyam’s, flared across his face. He leaned over the small table, grabbed Kyam’s lapel, and yanked him forward. “You listen to me, cousin.” He whispered urgently, but so quietly that Kyam had to strain to hear him over the festivities swirling around them. “I’ll bet you never knew that your masters in Intelligence were willing to let you off with censure over the Oin Affair. Grandfather is the one who insisted on exile. And I beg you to remember that obeying Grandfather over your superiors in Intelligence is what got you into trouble with that little caper.”
Kyam shook his head. “It wasn’t like that –”
“The hell it wasn’t. He wanted you in Levapur for a reason, so he set you up to be disgraced and exiled. Now that you’ve thwarted the Ravidian plot and regained your honor, everything is forgiven back in Surrayya. Intelligence gave you back your rank. But he’s ignoring that and treating you as if you’re still in disgrace.” Hadre let go of Kyam. “He’s warned the rest of the thirteen families not to allow you to board their ships either. Face it. He’s marooned you here. He took the sea away from you.”
Kyam’s chair tipped over as he came to his feet. “I know my duty to my family. If he’d asked, I would have told him that I’d obey him and stay here to see his plan through.”
“But he didn’t ask, did he?”
~ ~ ~
The Home Port was the only Thampurian-owned tavern Kyam knew of in Levapur. If it hadn’t been for the fans churning the stuffy air inside the dim room, it could have been on one of the wide streets bordering Suvat Park back in Surrayya. The authentic Thampurian dishes used imported spices and meat. Anyone who dared order rum would be served whiskey with a scowl. Normally Kyam avoided the place, but tonight he needed the touch of home.
He almost walked out when he saw Major Voorus and three other colonial militiamen at a table. He was their hero now, which was why he planned to sit with his back to them and hope they didn’t notice him at the far end of the bar.
Kyam signaled the barkeep to bring him a drink.
He was still torn about Hadre. Maybe he’d visit him in the morning, and they could pretend they’d never had that conversation at the Red Happiness. No; Hadre would have to apologize, first to him, and then to Grandfather. Some things just couldn’t be overlooked.
A hand clapped against his back.
“What the hell are you still doing here, Zul?” Voorus asked.
Although Voorus wasn’t a member to the Zul clan, Kyam and Voorus looked more alike than even he and Hadre did. It wasn’t just their height and build; the shape of their faces and even their noses suggested kinship. Many people had remarked on it.
Kyam wished Voorus would go back to the other soldiers. It wasn’t that he disliked the man as a casual acquaintance. Voorus was likeable enough to drink with occasionally, and he’d been a damned good man to fight beside on Cay Rhi. But he’d also tried to execute QuiTai, taken over Kyam’s raid of the Ravidian’s secret base, and after they’d captured the Ravidians he’d secured the base... Kyam almost snorted. Secured the base. QuiTai foresaw that in her odd way of picking at words like a death bird stringing out the guts of carrion. He had no idea how she’d done it. One minute they were hacking their way through the jungle; the next, she was predicting they’d find that the natives of the key had been forced into slavery, and worse, that the colonial militia meant to keep those slaves captive. He hadn’t wanted to believe her because it went against everything Thampurians believed in – but she’d been right.
“If I had signed articles of transport, I’d be out of here on the next ship. Hell, I’d shift and swim all the way back to Thampur,” Voorus said.
Voorus’ breath was sour with drink. His eyelids drooped.
The reality of Kyam’s position was sinking in. He couldn’t leave Ponong until his grandfather freed him. “I’m going to extend my stay.” Kyam was careful not to sound bitter.
“On this filthy island? You’re going to need more to drink than that!” Voorus snapped his fingers at the barkeep. “A whiskey for my friend.”
“It isn’t necessary.”
“It is if you’re going to stay in Levapur.”
For a fleeting moment, Voorus looked sharply aware and focused. He glanced around the tavern. When he sat on the stool next to Kyam, he fidgeted.
One of the soldiers Voorus had been drinking with weaved over to the bar. “Hey Voorus! We’re heading over to the Red Happiness. Coming along?” He leaned on the bar for support. “Well, if it isn’t Colonel Zul. Finally able to show your face in here?”
Before Kyam could say anything, Voorus whipped around to face the soldier. “Except for the plantation owners, every Thampurian on this island was forced to come here because of some disgrace, Lieutenant. Don’t pretend you’re here for the weather.”
Kyam couldn’t see Voorus’ face, but his tone made it easy to guess his expression. The young soldier’s face mottled as if he choked back his anger. He stumbled away to join his friends.
“I thought you soldiers made it a point of honor to overlook the past,” Kyam said when the room grew quiet.
Voorus leaned against the bar on his elbows and seemed to stew over the confrontation. Then he laughed, hollow and joyless, as he shook his head. “Honor.” He made a dismissive sound. “What’s that?”
An uneasy feeling crept over Kyam. Voorus had the look of a man caught in a moral dilemma, and he seemed drunk enough to want to talk about it. Kyam had heard one man’s confession this evening and was in no mood for another.
He looked around the tavern. The other patrons acted with typical Thampurian tact and pretended they hadn’t heard or seen anything unusual. Even though the other men didn’t seem to be listening, he saw their glances. “Come on, Voorus. Let’s take a walk.”
If Voorus was drunk, at least he wasn’t belligerent. Looking sad now, he nodded and rose. He didn’t finish his drink.
Any illusion that they were in Surrayya disappeared as Kyam walked outside into a wall of suffocating heat and humidity. Everywhere he looked, the jungle encroached on Levapur, from ferns sprouting out of cracks in the turquoise stucco to the colony of bats huddled under the canopy of the mango tree to the vine cascading over the roof of the rice merchant’s shop.
Voorus walked down the steps from the veranda with a loose, unsteady gait that for a moment made him seem all knees and elbows. Mud splashed on his boot when he stepped into a puddle. “Damn this infernal island,” he said, without any anger.
The heat of loathing usually burned out after the first year in Levapur. It took too much energy to keep it going. The weather sapped a man’s vigor like a mosquito feasting on his blood. After a while, defeat and drink seemed more practical. It was amazing that more Thampurians in Levapur didn’t escape into vapor dream.
Raindrops that shredded umbrellas and stung like sea wasps had pelted the town all day. Now that it was only intermittent drizzle, people rushed to finish their errands before the shops closed. Kyam was glad to see so many people. Maybe the crowds would make Voorus think twice about talking about whatever it was that bothered him.
It didn’t.
“It isn’t right. I don’t care about our orders. I was sworn in to defend the king and our way of life. Don’t get me wrong, Zul. I hate these damn snakes. But we should be teaching them how to be civilized, and that means upholding our own laws.”
Kyam gestured for Voorus to keep his voice down. They were in a Thampurian neighborhood, but there were plenty of Ponongese around, and they hated being called snakes. Not that they could do much about it, but the past few weeks, even before the Ravidian situation, he’d felt something different about the mood in Levapur and didn’t think it was wise to provoke the Ponongese. He couldn’t put it in words, but it was as if tension coiled under the surface of the sleepy town. So many times he’d tried to convince himself that it was his imagination, but QuiTai had admitted she sensed it too. He had reason to trust her ability to foresee tr
ouble.
If only he could talk to her! Now that he knew he was stuck on Ponong for a bit longer, he couldn’t dismiss his foreboding as someone else’s problem. Somehow, he knew that he was going to get caught up in it. Maybe QuiTai, with all her cunning, could see a way to steer him through it unscathed. If he screwed up, he’d never be allowed to return to Thampur. Maybe this was why Grandfather wanted him here. The old man had a way of seeing ahead, just like QuiTai.
Kyam realized Voorus expected him to say something. “Levapur has always been lawless, Voorus. That’s part of its charm.”
“Charm.” Voorus spat into the stream trickling down a rut in the middle of the street.
As they reached the next alleyway, Voorus grabbed Kyam’s elbow and looked around them so dramatically that people naturally paid more attention to him. He yanked Kyam behind a staircase.
“My soldiers are back. You know which ones. The men who went missing,” Voorus whispered.
Kyam’s chest tightened.
Voorus would never have survived in Intelligence. He didn’t understand the meaning of the word coy. It was obvious to Kyam that he meant the soldiers who’d chased QuiTai and the slaves when they’d escaped from Cay Rhi.
“Did they catch the people who ran?”
Voorus pulled away. “Can I trust you?”
Here was the moment he’d been dreading since Voorus sat next to him in the tavern. “Probably not.” When Voorus scowled at him, he softened his answer with a slight smile. “You’re military; I’m intelligence.”
The little joke was a mistake. Voorus seemed even more determined to unload his thoughts on Kyam. He plucked at Kyam’s sleeve like a child wanting attention while he whispered, “My men realized they were in enemy territory, so they gave up the search. It took them a couple days to find their way back to civilization – if you can call this town civilized.” He took a deep breath. “Some of the militia think the snakes should be held captive, but some of us... It’s wrong, Zul. Wrong.”
Shocked, Kyam stared at Voorus. Fear seemed to have sobered the man. Could it be that Voorus had a sense of moral right and wrong after all? He was ashamed that he’d thought so poorly of him. “Have you told anyone what they did?”
Voorus looked at him as if he had gone insane. “They’d hang my men.”
“Then why, for the love of deep water, did you tell me?”
“Because I think you knew what the Devil’s whore planned to do, and you let her. I think you agree with me. I think you’re a real patriot too.”
Kyam searched Voorus’ face for any hint of cunning. He realized that Voorus was looking at him for the same sign. Trust was an awful lot to ask. On Cay Rhi they’d had each other’s backs, but that was against the Ravidians. Now it was Thampurian against Thampurian.
Which was the real treason? Refusing to follow orders, or betraying the principles you’d sworn to uphold? Kyam saw that Voorus knew the right answer, but was he willing to put his life on the line for that principle? He obviously wanted to know the same thing about Kyam. As if he could spend all night waiting in the stinking alleyway for an answer, Voorus’ pleading gaze never left Kyam’s face.
One of them had to break the silence. Since Voorus was the one who wanted to talk, he did. “I know that you hate her, Zul, so the way I figure it, you feel the same way I do about the slaves. Otherwise, you would have let us take the Devil’s whore captive on Cay Rhi.”
Kyam had to be careful. As Voorus pointed out, theirs were treasonous acts, if only by failure to act. A man in trouble might turn over anyone to save his own neck.
“So she and the escaped slaves are somewhere on this island,” Kyam said slowly to buy himself time to think. If Voorus was telling the truth, QuiTai had eluded the soldiers and gotten away. A burden lifted from his soul. He’d known he was worried about her fate, but he hadn’t realized how tightly his nerves had been knotted as he’d awaited news. If only she’d sent him some sign. But where the slaves only had to dodge the soldiers, there was more danger lurking in the jungle for her. Maybe her luck ran out. She couldn’t outsmart everyone forever.
“You know what worries me?” Voorus asked.
Dear Goddess of Mercy, there was more? Wasn’t the threat of death enough? “What?”
“The Devil’s whore has three days’ head start on us.”
Kyam had no idea where Voorus’ thoughts were headed.
“Why hasn’t she done anything?” Voorus asked.
Kyam’s brow furrowed. “What do you expect her to do?”
Voorus shrugged. “You know her reputation as well as I do. She’s capable of any brutality. We know she has separatist sympathies. And think about this – there are only about eighteen hundred Thampurians on this island, and that’s if you count the plantation owners. There are thousands of Ponongese, and they hate us. You can see it in their eyes. They’re just waiting for any excuse to slaughter us, and she has that excuse, Zul. We gave it to her! For all we know, she’s touring the island with those escaped slaves and whipping the Ponongese in the remote villages and outer islands into an army. We know how bloodthirsty these savages are. They tore those werewolves apart with their bare hands on the steps of the government building for their part in the Full Moon massacre.” He nodded sharply. “Think on that.”
Kyam’s stomach lurched. He hadn’t been in Levapur when that had happened, but QuiTai’s description of the carnage had been enough. And he knew how casually she reacted to death, how ruthless she could be, and how much she hated Thampurian rule of her home.
“You should have let me throw her into that cell with the werewolves when I had the chance,” Voorus said.
He was surprised no one had demanded an explanation about that from him yet. At least he’d had time to work on a good excuse. “She alone knew where to find the Ravidians. I needed her alive.”
Voorus nodded. “Well, obviously. I didn’t think you’d let her go without a damned good reason.”
Hopefully, if anyone else asked, they’d accept his explanation as easily as Voorus had.
Voorus grasped Kyam’s sleeve tighter and pulled him back out onto the road. People picked their way across puddles in the street. The Ponongese boys toting their packages waded right through the muck.
Voorus seemed headed somewhere in particular, but if he wanted to go to the fortress, they’d turned the wrong way. “It would have been better if my men had killed them all – the slaves and her. Then we wouldn’t be in this mess. The slaves aren’t the problem. They let themselves be put in chains, after all. No leadership there. No spirit. Typical Ponongese. But her... She’s dangerous. You can see that crafty native cunning in her shifty eyes. Thankfully, Petrof is still out there, waiting for his chance. Once he kills her, we’re safe.”
Now Kyam really wished he could talk to QuiTai, but he wasn’t helpless on his own. He was a spy, a colonel in the Intelligence community. Some people whispered that he’d risen to his rank through connection, but he knew how hard he’d worked to earn his position. He could figure this out without QuiTai. He was smart. He knew how to investigate. If only he were as quick to see the bigger picture as QuiTai was. He had a bad feeling that lag might be the difference between weathering the coming storm and falling victim to it.
His mouth was dry as he asked the terrible question that hovered over the moment. “What makes you think Petrof hasn’t killed her already?”
“He would have collected his reward by now. They haven’t said anything about that.”
Someone paid Petrof to kill QuiTai? He realized he was just seeing the clouds when the typhoon was almost on them. “Who are ‘they’?” Kyam asked.
Voorus stopped at a yellow apartment building on the edge of the Thampurian neighborhood. It was in much better repair than the one Kyam lived in. “Like I said, slavery is wrong, and no amount of justification from my superiors will make me betray the basic tenants of Thampurian law, but I’ll be damned if I’ll stand by and let these snakes slaughter every last Thampur
ian on this island. I guess it’s a good thing that troop of soldiers came from Thampur on your grandfather’s boat. We’re going to need their numbers.” He searched through his pockets. “If I were you, Zul, I’d sleep armed, and I’d move out of that apartment of yours. That place is crawling with snakes. Meanwhile, the Zul compound across town sits empty.” He found his key in the breast pocket of his uniform jacket. “I never could figure your motive; unless you’re collecting intelligence on them. But do you have to live among them to do that? Hell, I’d move back into the barracks if those new soldiers hadn’t taken over every spare bed in the fortress. It might be damp and the cots are lumpy, but at least I’d have a couple feet of stone between me and the snakes when the slaughter begins.”
Chapter 3: Dreamers
QuiTai resisted licking her cracked lips as long as she could. When her skin didn’t burn, chills wracked her body, but she didn’t have time to be ill. There were no rumors yet that the soldiers who had chased her and the escaped slaves from Cay Rhi had returned to Levapur, but they could at any moment, and then the hunt for her and the slaves would begin again.
Earlier in the evening, she’d slipped into the Dragon Pearl’s second-story vapor den. The Dragon Pearl’s owner, Lizzriat, wouldn’t allow a Ponongese past her front door, but QuiTai hadn’t needed a front door, or stairs, to get inside. She’d climbed onto the veranda but stayed outside in the deeper shadows around the back of the building. It was unlikely that anyone would come outside, even though the veranda was covered. There was an apartment building across the way, but the carved wood shutters were closed tight against the rain, and from the darkness behind them she guessed the interior shutters were closed too.
The rain had been falling all day, but the drops now were like lead fishing weights that pummeled the roof. The faint green light from the jellylanterns inside the den was no match for the fading twilight.
