The Devil Incarnate (The Devil of Ponong series #2)

by Braden, Jill

  He looked confused. “None taken. I’m feeling the same way right now.”

  “What?” Voorus asked. “What’s going on?”

  QuiTai handed him a glass of rum. “On second thought, enjoy.” His slow mind exhausted her.

  “So I escape from the island with some of the slaves. If I’d been caught, we all would have been executed immediately. Voorus already admitted as much. I have no idea how Grandfather Zul planned to forge ahead under that scenario, but I survived and the slaves escaped, and as far as he’s concerned, I just put gale force winds in his sails. It was so perfect from his perspective because I’d be an independent instigator of the scandal. It would never be traced back to him. How he must have rubbed his hands together in glee at that development. Only I don’t do anything. I don’t stir up a rebellion. I don’t publically denounce the governor or colonial militia for keeping slaves. I don’t even write an angry letter to the editors of Thampurian newspapers to protest this atrocity.”

  Voorus snapped his fingers. “Yes! That’s it. You didn’t do anything. I kept expecting a huge battle to wage across Levapur, but pffft. Not a thing.”

  “Then Governor Turyat, and Chief Justice Cuulon for good measure, quickly signed articles of transport and invited Kyam to make a triumphant return to Thampur. Only he can’t, because his grandfather warned every captain of every Thampurian ship that he’d have them keelhauled if they honored those papers. Right, Hadre? Kyam is stuck here. Why? You know, don’t you?”

  Tugging on his collar, Hadre nodded.

  “I offered him transport on a smuggler’s ship, but honestly, I knew he was already doomed.” As soon as she said it, QuiTai gasped. The Oracle was never wrong, but if she was her own Oracle, where had that vision come from? She thought back. Who had been the conduit when she heard the vision? Chief Justice Cuulon. And now that she thought about it, she’d plucked that vision from his dream, from his fears, not from his memory.

  The Oracle is never wrong? QuiTai almost chuckled. ‘The Oracle has been known to make mistakes’ is closer to the truth. Except that this time, she had it right.

  “What do you mean by doomed?” Hadre asked.

  Voorus drank his rum in one gulp. “Why didn’t you do anything about the slaves, Lady QuiTai?” He stumbled a bit over the honorific, but the first time would be the hardest for him. “If you mean it when you say you don’t want to start a bloody rebellion, I’ll believe you, maybe, but why didn’t you do that other stuff? You do want the other slaves to be freed, don’t you?”

  Of the two men, Voorus was the easiest one to face.

  “I was ill. One of the werewolves bit my ankle when I escaped from the fortress, and it got infected. So I wasted a few days in bed fighting a fever. That, apparently, was not acceptable. So Grandfather Zul decided to provoke me.”

  “That’s easy to do. You’re always angry about something,” Voorus said.

  “The marketplace.” Hadre looked like a man awaking from a dream.

  “It wasn’t us, the colonial militia, I mean. It was those other soldiers,” Voorus snapped.

  “Acting under Grandfather Zul’s orders, not the governor’s. When Governor Turyat begged them to stop, he warned them that it would only anger me. The soldier smiled. I should have paid closer attention to that detail,” QuiTai admitted.

  “I still wish I knew when the governor told you about that meeting.”

  “Never mind that right now, Voorus. The important part is that I didn’t react when the Ponongese were ejected from the marketplace and forbidden to take out the fishing fleet.” She would never tell them she had reacted, but not in a way anyone suspected. Kyam would have figured out she was the one behind the sudden rise in the price of rice. She didn’t feel like helping anyone else reach that conclusion. “So Grandfather Zul upped the ante. He closed the Thampurian school. That’s when I knew for sure this plot was tailored to get my attention and not just to sow general unrest. Ask almost anyone, and they’ll tell you I pay the tuition for half the students. It’s my pet project, one with no discernible profit. It’s obviously personal, so that’s where he made his move. At that point I knew he wanted my undivided attention, but I had no idea what he wanted from me, so he got nothing for his efforts. I wonder if the old man began to panic. He certainly got mean. And he decided enough with the finesse. So he sent his soldiers to the new Ponongese marketplace to attack innocent Ponongese in broad daylight so there would be plenty of witnesses. He couldn’t trust me to overthrow the governor any more. He took the matter directly to my people and dared them to fight back.”

  “So what happened? Why didn’t they?” Hadre asked. Swept up in the story, he leaned forward, eyes bright with interest.

  QuiTai pointed at Voorus. “He apologized.”

  Hadre leaned back. “That’s it?”

  “You’d be amazed at the power of a true apology. My people knew he meant it. He didn’t just apologize though. He displayed deep personal distress. He cried.”

  “I did not.”

  “Quit being so Thampurian.”

  Voorus winced as he stretched out on the cot. “That’s only going to work for so long, you know. We have these tiny victories – you don’t incite a rebellion and I make a gesture that might have been interpreted as tears – but eventually we’re merely little sailboats facing a typhoon. From what you’re saying, Zul can keep upping the stakes. Have you felt the tension in town? It’s simmering and ready to boil over.”

  He’d understood the important part of this conversation. She had to be grateful for that.

  “It’s been steadily building over the past few months. Kyam felt it. So did I. We couldn’t figure out the source.” They hadn’t tried. Would it have made any difference?

  “What good does it do to know who is behind it or how long this course has been charted? As Captain Voorus points out, Grandfather’s next move might ignite the oil. How do we stop it?” Hadre asked.

  She’d given him time to accept the truth, but she wouldn’t let him get away with keeping his secret. Hadre had to confess.

  “You know very well what this is leading up to, Hadre. If we give him what he wants, maybe he won’t make that next move.”

  “Never!”

  QuiTai shook her head. She didn’t see any way out of it. Kyam would have understood. He wouldn’t be happy about it, but he’d offer to make the sacrifice. She closed her eyes for a moment. “There are worse things, Hadre.”

  “Worse what?” Voorus asked. “What does he want?” He looked from Hadre to QuiTai.

  “The message Grandfather Zul traveled all those miles to deliver personally to Hadre. The message he couldn’t trust to a farwriter.” Her gaze met Hadre’s and held it. She knew she had the right answer. Kyam could laugh all he wanted to at her guesses, but she was right much more often than she was wrong.

  “Would you stop talking in riddles and meaningful glances? Just tell me,” Voorus said.

  “Grandfather Zul wants Governor Turyat to be forced out of office so the king will name his grandson Kyam Zul as the next governor of Ponong. He ordered Hadre not to interfere.”

  “If only Kyam had listened to me, or Voorus, or you, Lady QuiTai,” Hadre whispered.

  Voorus snorted. “That’s it? A rich, privileged member of the thirteen families gets a cushy position with a fat salary? Where’s the tragedy in that? Why are you trying to stop it? Let the old man have what he wants, for the love of the Goddess of Mercy, before blood runs in the street.”

  Chapter 18: Grandfather Zul Demands an Audience

  Tell me what happened today. TtZ

  This was more like it. A simple request for information.

  The price of rice doubled. Rumor has it there was a fight in the marketplace when a mob of Thampurians attacked a merchant’s stall. No verification, but there’s another rumor that a group of Thampurians broke the windows of a rice merchant’s shop on the edge of the Quarter of Delights, beat him, and looted the store. Colonial militia is keeping a li
d on rumors, but of course there’s talk.

  Thampurians rioted? TtZ

  He smirked. Yes, you old bastard. Thampurians. The farwriter’s bell rang before he could compose a reply.

  Why did it happen? Why did the price go up? TtZ

  People panicked on a rumor. The rice merchants took advantage. People got angry and fought back.

  He envisioned Zul pacing an elegant room with high ceilings. The floor would be a rare wood or expensive stone. The furniture would be delicate and graceful.

  Bring me QuiTai. TtZ

  Bring?

  To this farwriter. TtZ

  He gulped.

  It’s raining heavily. The streets are flooded.

  Then get wet! Bring me QuiTai tonight! TtZ

  His hands shook as he picked out the letters.

  She’ll kill me when she finds out I’ve been spying on her for you.

  Do you think I can’t have you killed tonight? TtZ

  He sank into his desk chair. At least Zul would let him die quickly. QuiTai wasn’t the kind to dabble in mercy.

  I’m not sure where to find her.

  Then you’d better start looking. TtZ

  Are you sure you wouldn’t rather talk to the Devil?

  It took him a long time to decipher the reply. When he did, he dropped the scrolling paper and backed away from it. Zul was laughing.

  ~ ~ ~

  The Dragon Pearl was uncomfortably quiet. Many employees hadn’t come for the evening shift. LiHoun knew it wasn’t the rain. Addicts would drag themselves through waist-high water to get to a pipe, but even the dens upstairs were deserted. Fear had settled over Levapur. It had him in its grip too.

  He sat on the back veranda near the street and rolled a kur with trembling hands. QuiTai’s meeting with her local lieutenants earlier in the evening had been contentious. One of them had been attacked by Thampurians when they caught him with a bag of rice, despite his bodyguard. She’d told them to stop selling rice to Thampurians. They’d countered that most of their business was with Thampurians. A few bags of coins had quieted most of their grumbling, but he could tell QuiTai was still worried. So was he.

  He inhaled the floral smoke from the kur. Instantly his blood heated and he felt the rush of energy. He held it in his lungs until it felt as if they would burst. As he exhaled, deep coughs shook his shoulders.

  He watched the water flow through the street while he took another puff. What should he do? He didn’t know. He blinked as he thought he saw a ghostly shape move toward him, but then he heard the splashes and cursing and knew it was no spirit. He braced himself.

  Kyam Zul came up the steps.

  “Good evening, uncle. Have you eaten?” Kyam asked.

  LiHoun watched him warily. “Yes. And you?”

  He nodded to LiHoun as he wiped rain out of his eyes. “I need to talk to QuiTai.”

  LiHoun put his finger to his lips and shifted his gaze to the open shutters behind him.

  Kyam squatted next to LiHoun. He ran his hand over his hair, pushing his straight black bangs out of his eyes. He bowed his head and winced before speaking. “I’m taking her offer.” He finally looked up. “You’ll pass on my message?”

  LiHoun exhaled relief. “Yes.”

  Kyam nodded again. He turned to watch the rain pour down, sighed deeply before rising, and headed back out into the rain.

  ~ ~ ~

  Hadre and Voorus stumbled into Hadre’s cabin aboard the Winged Dragon like two drunks. Hadre sent for the doctor as they crossed the deck.

  “We should have stayed at the compound,” Hadre said.

  Voorus plopped into a chair and pulled off his boots. “You would have gotten just as wet, and I didn’t fancy staying there alone.”

  “You don’t trust Lady QuiTai?”

  Voorus’ gaze sharpened. “You do?”

  Hadre nodded. “In this, yes.” The farwriter’s bell dinged. He ignored it.

  “Why?” Voorus unbuttoned his uniform jacket and pulled it off. Bruises mottled his arms.

  Hadre tried to think of an explanation. Finally, he shrugged. “I admire her.”

  The bell rang again. He swore it sounded impatient. Once a message had been received, it would keep dinging until he acknowledged he’d received it.

  Voorus gestured to the farwriter’s cabinet. “Are you going to get your message?”

  “It’s from Grandfather, so no. Not yet. I’m too angry with him right now.”

  Voorus shed his trousers. “Sorry, but I want to crawl into bed. Where’s your ship’s doctor?”

  “He should be here soon.”

  “Speaking of QuiTai, she never referred to the Devil tonight. Does he allow her that much freedom? I thought she was completely his creature,” Voorus said. “And can you imagine that woman working for you? The Devil must be brilliant if she bows to him.”

  Hadre hadn’t noticed, but now that Voorus mentioned it, it struck him as odd. Not that QuiTai had talked about the Devil much when she was on board the Golden Barracuda.

  Voorus yawned loudly. “Maybe she doesn’t hate your cousin as much as I thought. She didn’t say anything bad about him. I kept expecting her to, because – well, if you’d ever seen one of their disagreements, you’d know how she usually speaks to him.”

  “That’s not how they were when they were on the Golden Barracuda. She was much the same as she was tonight. All business.”

  He wasn’t the kind to delude himself, but maybe Voorus was right. Maybe she had left the Devil. She wouldn’t talk about something like that with men she barely knew, she wasn’t the type, but she had been in that cabin with Kyam. They certainly fit together well. If she cared for Kyam more than she admitted, she’d help him escape the island. Wouldn’t she?

  The farwriter bell clanged again.

  Hadre spun around. “All right! I hear you.” He gave Voorus an apologetic glance. “One of these days, I’m going to stuff that bell with cloth.”

  He unlatched the door and folded down the shelf. Hadre ripped off the paper and waved it.

  “Grandfather asks for a report. ‘Tell me what happened today,’ he says. Good luck with that, sir.”

  “Caught between QuiTai and your grandfather. That can’t be comfortable.”

  “I’d rather face plague and pirates, but no one ever asks me.” Hadre winked at Voorus.

  Another message was already appearing on the page. It was time-stamped two hours after the first message. Hadre read it. Dread settled in the pit of his stomach. He turned to Voorus.

  Voorus sat up, eyes wide. “What is it? Bad news?”

  “He says to bring him QuiTai. Now.”

  ~ ~ ~

  LiHoun jumped when Lizzriat ran out onto the veranda. “Sorry, sir. I didn’t think customers would see me here tonight.”

  “Never mind that.” Lizzriat knelt next to him and gripped his forearm. “I must see QuiTai tonight. Now!”

  “QuiTai?”

  “Don’t play stupid with me. I know you’re one of her favorite informants.”

  He’d never seen Lizzriat upset, worried, or angry before. Now his curly red hair was in disarray, as if he’d gripped it tightly, and his eyes were hollowed with fear. His lacy shirt hung open at his throat.

  “Tomorrow, I can arrange a meeting.”

  “Tonight! Don’t you hear me? It must be tonight!”

  LiHoun tensed from the rising panic rolling off him. “I don’t know where she sleeps. She’s very secretive.” He tried to pull his arm away and long, curved fingernails dug under his skin.

  “You don’t understand, LiHoun. Zul will kill me if I don’t bring her here tonight to talk to him!”

  “Zul? Kyam Zul?”

  “No. The grandfather.”

  “He’s here in Levapur?”

  “No!” Lizzriat covered his face with his hands. At first, LiHoun thought he cried, but when his hands dropped, LiHoun saw it was fatalistic laughter. “By farwriter.” He took a shaky breath. “I’m dead. I’m dead. That’
s all there is to it. I’m dead.”

  “Grandfather Zul told you that he wants to speak to QuiTai.” He wanted to make sure he had the message right.

  “Yes.”

  LiHoun mulled over that for a while. Tonight, everyone wanted to talk to QuiTai, even he. There was no putting it off any longer. He rose. “No promises, but I will do what I can.”

  Lizzriat pressed his hands together and bowed until his forehead touched his fingertips.

  “She’ll be very angry with you if she comes here in this rain only to find you dead. I suggest you don’t disappoint her in that manner.”

  “You sound like her.” Lizzriat managed a wan smile, but it had no staying power.

  ~ ~ ~

  LiHoun honestly didn’t know where QuiTai might be. Her paranoia wasn’t unreasonable, given her history with the Devil and the colonial militia, but it was damned inconvenient right now. She probably hadn’t left Levapur after her meeting with her lieutenants. Not in this rain. But even in Levapur, she could be anywhere.

  He knew of seven of her safe houses. At least that was a start. He didn’t want to lead anyone to her, though, in case he were followed, or to show them where to look for her in the future.

  He scratched his head. If only he could think like her. She’d been disguising herself as a Thampurian lady since she’d left RhiLan’s apartment. Where could a single Thampurian lady rent a room without sparking gossip? Where would she be left alone?

  ~ ~ ~

  The corner of QuiTai’s mouth curved up as she gestured to LiHoun to enter her room. “Am I this predictable, uncle?”

  Water dripped off him. His legs ached and he couldn’t stop coughing. Her smile turned to concern. She took his arm and led him to the small bed in the sparsely furnished room.

  “Lie down.” She went to the chest at the end of the bed. “Here’s a blanket. If you want something dry to wear, there are a couple of sarongs in the wardrobe. And, you’ll be glad to hear, I don’t have tiuhon tea, so you’ll just have to make do with a bottle of rum and cold rice.”