The Impossible Contract

by K A Doore

  The bound spilled onto the road and grabbed at Mo, catching her wrap. Startled, Mo jerked away. But the bound held fast and lunged for Mo’s arm. Thana didn’t think. She stepped to the side of the bridge so she had a clear shot, then drew a knife and—in the same movement—threw across the gap between platforms, hitting the bound in one shoulder, spinning it off balance. Mo yanked her wrap free, stumbling back.

  Heru followed the knife’s trajectory across the platform and the gap to Thana. He considered her, then turned and yanked her knife from the bound’s shoulder. He sidestepped the creature’s retaliating swipe and rolled up one sleeve. Even at this distance, Thana could see the thin white scars crisscrossing his skin. He drew the blade across his inner arm and pressed a piece of fabric to the welling blood.

  The merchants cleared the bridge. Thana ran onto it as the bound leaped at Heru. He stumbled back, but not far enough. The creature slammed into Heru’s shoulder, then fell past when Heru turned with the blow. He slapped the blood-stained cloth against the bound’s forehead, but the creature grabbed his other arm and they tumbled to the stones together.

  “No!” Mo rushed forward while Thana slowed, hopeful, still several feet from the end of the bridge.

  Unfortunately, Heru was already rolling out from beneath the creature. He stood up, brushing his hands off on his wrap and smearing blood and dirt across its pristine white. He nudged the prone body with his foot and, receiving no response, gave it a solid kick. The creature didn’t move.

  Mo pulled up short. “What—? What did you do?”

  Heru ignored her and crouched next to the body. Thana reached the platform just as he yanked off the figure’s tagel, revealing a scraggly beard and a slack jaw, skin ashen and sagging. Then Heru rolled the body over and pulled the wrap down to reveal a disconcertingly familiar set of seared symbols in its flesh.

  Mo gasped. Thana winced. Heru used her knife to slash through the marks. The skin opened under the blade like the peel of an overripe orange. Thick, dark blood oozed from the fresh wound. A darkness gathered in the broken flesh, then burst forth in a hissing stream like a swarm of locusts.

  Heru and Mo both stepped back, attention fixed on the swarm. Thana saw her opportunity in that brief moment, while Heru was distracted and her only witness was the healer. The platform was otherwise deserted. Thana was still over a dozen feet away and Mo hadn’t noticed her yet. In the blowgun on Thana’s belt was a poison that mimicked a heart attack. Mo would assume the bound was responsible for Heru’s death. Could it be that easy?

  Heru held the knife in front of him, as if to shield himself from the swarm. At the same time, he slid something small from his pocket. Thana held the blowgun to her lips. The swarm began to taper off. Thana filled her cheeks with air. Heru held out the object in his open palm; it was a small, glass bauble. It started to glow and the swarm bent back and down, aiming for Heru’s hand.

  Thana blew. The dart cut through the air like a diving hawk, aimed perfectly at Heru’s neck. She couldn’t miss.

  Then Heru took one step forward, reaching higher with the glass bauble, and the dart sliced past his neck to thunk into the chest of the corpse. Heru glanced at the dart. Thana made the blowgun disappear just as he turned to lock gazes with her. Mo followed that gaze, started when she saw Thana, and waved. Thana swallowed her disappointment and forced a weary smile.

  When Thana reached them, the swarm had disappeared and the glass bauble was glowing a sickly orange. Heru slid the bauble back into his pocket.

  “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t destroy the prized possessions of everyone I introduce you to,” said Thana.

  “Or what? You’ll try to kill me?” asked Heru coolly. He turned his back on her to examine the body. “This one is older than the others, if only by a few days. See how the skin is flaky and dry?”

  Thana crossed her arms as she ran her gaze over the body, searching for the dart so she could retrieve it before Mo noticed. But it was gone. Shards.

  “What did you do?” asked Mo. She hovered by the head, fingers reaching for but not touching the scrap of bloody cloth still stuck to its forehead.

  “I quieted its jaani,” said Heru. “I used my blood to form a sympathetic connection and then I disrupted the binding network. I’d explain the mechanisms behind such an approach, but I suspect the intricacies would be lost upon such as you.”

  Mo bristled but let his insult go. “This is getting out of hand. We need to tell the marab what’s going on. If quieting works, then they’ll be able to help. I can’t believe one of these things was out under the sun. Someone has to have noticed—right?”

  She looked at Thana, but Heru answered. “No. If they haven’t attacked anyone else, who would notice them?”

  Thana nodded reluctantly. “You can only tell there’s something wrong if you get close. Otherwise they just look drunk. People probably assume they’re iluk.”

  “The eyes, though.” Mo hugged herself. “But these bodies, they must have come from somewhere. They have families, people mourning them. We need to let them know what happened.”

  Heru pinched the corpse’s skin. “Do you carry bases, healer? Some method of burning through flesh?”

  Mo dropped her arms and frowned. “No.”

  Heru tilted his head. “Then what do you do when the flesh necrotizes?”

  “Maggots, sa, like any civilized person.”

  “I wouldn’t call that civilized.”

  “Life begets life,” said Mo. “And we don’t waste. Which brings me back—”

  “Yes, well, you do many strange things on the edge of the Wastes.” Heru straightened. “Before I decide on my next course of action, it would be prudent to ensure that those other dead remain dead. That little history lesson only confirmed my own conclusion that the marks themselves are dangerous. The slashes may have disrupted the binding and released the jaani, but I must remove the marks completely. They could still be used in a similar form of sympathetic binding, if our opponent happens to be as well-versed in these studies as I suspect.”

  Mo’s frown deepened. “Let’s figure that out when we get back. First, I’m going to call a watchman to carry this body back for us. What happened here needs to be reported to the drum chiefs. The station is just up ahead—I’ll only be a moment.”

  Mo left without waiting for them. Thana started to follow, but Heru grabbed her by the wrap. She ripped the cloth from his grasp and they faced off for a second time that day. Except now, there were no healers nearby. No one to intercede.

  Heru moved first, flicking out the dart from between his fingers. He held it up. “Do I have to worry about you trying that again?”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t have destroyed a valuable book.”

  Heru raised his eyebrows. “Was your friend so upset? I’ll pay him more next time. Those pages are necessary to safeguard our great Empire. He should be grateful to contribute. Besides, a sand flea couldn’t have possibly known what to do with such precious knowledge. It was wasted on him.”

  “And you do?”

  “Of course.” Heru straightened. “I’m a marabi trained under Na Tay Khet’s foremost scholars. I am the most qualified to deal with this particular threat in your entire sand-swept, backcountry village.”

  “Then why are you even here?” prodded Thana, relaxing ever so slightly as Heru continued not to try and kill her. While she appreciated the restraint, it was puzzling.

  Heru glanced at the body lying haphazardly next to them. A few people had walked past, glances furtive and quick, but no one had bothered them. Drunks were common after season’s end, after all.

  “I was sent to open civilized negotiations between your little hovel and the Empire,” said Heru. “The Empress is most displeased at the state of relations around the Wastes, specifically how a bunch of sand fleas can continue pretending they don’t belong to her. I fear, however, that I’ll be forced to cut my visit short. Your little town doesn’t have the resources I need to conduct an appropriatel
y thorough investigation into a problem of this magnitude. The Empress will forgive me for returning early when there’re such terrible things happening within her Empire.”

  But his tone lacked certainty. It was laughable that anyone, the Empress especially, believed Heru would be an ideal ambassador. His brusque nature and curt pride made him quite the opposite. Perhaps that was the point. The Empress must have realized what message dispatching someone as unlikable as Heru would send to Ghadid. She must have considered that such a message would be met in kind, either openly or—

  “And you?” asked Heru. “Who hired you? What were you doing in my room last night?”

  Thana palmed a knife. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Heru sighed. “Are we going to play this game? I’m not a fool, child.”

  Thana eyed him warily, then asked what she’d been wondering all along. “Then why don’t you kill me?”

  “You’re annoying, but your likelihood of success is very low. I’ve calculated that your utility to me as a possible decoy for these bound jaan is higher than any satisfaction your immediate death might provide. You can’t hurt me and it’s in your best interest to keep me around until this current crisis is resolved. Besides, I don’t have access to the appropriate tools and equipment to make proper use of your cadaver.”

  Thana decided to ignore that last comment. “Why’re you so convinced I can’t hurt you?”

  “If your attempts so far are any indication of your skill, I have nothing to fear.” Heru flicked out a knife from between his fingers like a conjuring trick, and pressed its tip to the palm of his hand. Blood welled and Heru caught Thana in his gaze. “But if you are so concerned for my well-being, perhaps it would be in my best interest to bind you.”

  But before Heru could go any further, Mo rounded the corner with a watchman in tow. The knife disappeared as they approached, but its threat lingered while the watchman examined the corpse, then asked them each pointed questions. Once Heru mentioned the Empress, the watchman was all deference and respect, and promised to help carry the corpse to the healers for further examination.

  * * *

  “There.”

  Heru held a pinched strip of skin between two fingers an arm’s length from himself. He dropped it into a waste basket with the rest of the skin he’d peeled off, then washed his blood-streaked knife and hands in a bowl of water. Mo had led them to a side room this time, where she’d drawn the curtain for privacy so that the sight of Heru removing the skin from the corpse’s back wouldn’t bother the other patients.

  “That’s it?” asked Thana. “No more dead walking around?”

  “I cannot speak to the possibility of our mysterious friend binding and sending more respiratorialy challenged jaan my way, but I can assure you that, barring any additional mutilations, these particular dead men will, in fact, remain dead.” Heru wiped his hands dry on a towel.

  “Now what?” Mo gingerly touched the corpse’s shoulder, then pulled the shroud over its head. “The watchmen are trying to find out who these men were and notify their families, but we’ve got to do something to stop Djet from killing more people.”

  “It may be Djet’s work, but we don’t know if it’s Djet himself,” corrected Heru.

  “But you said—”

  “I said it’s a possibility we must entertain that Djet could still be alive today. But it’s an equally likely possibility—nay, more likely—that someone else is emulating his life’s work.”

  “Either way,” said Mo, “we have to find who’s doing this and stop them.”

  Heru turned his hands over, inspecting them carefully. He rubbed at a dark spot that might have been blood. “That’s what I intend to do. Therefore, I will be returning to the capital as soon as possible to continue my research.”

  He moved toward the door, but Mo blocked his way. “So you’re just going to leave us with the problem? You’re the only one who can stop these things. You can’t just turn tail and flee.”

  “I’m not fleeing. I must seek out more knowledge to elucidate solutions to the problem. I cannot find that knowledge here, girl. Ergo, I must return to Na Tay Khet.” He stepped around Mo. “I’d best leave now, if I’m to join the next caravan.”

  “But—”

  “Let him go,” said Thana. “I’ll bet you three baats the problem goes with him.”

  “I don’t bet when lives are at stake.”

  “Then don’t.” Thana shrugged. She didn’t have the energy left to argue.

  Mo opened and closed her mouth, then she huffed and stalked away to the other room. Heru had paused long enough in the doorway to watch their exchange. Now he slipped out into the afternoon without another word. Thana let him. She was too exhausted to keep chasing him and if she ran into another of those bound jaan, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to defend herself.

  Besides, now she knew where he’d be, even if she didn’t yet know what she’d do with that knowledge. It was time to check on Amastan. He’d better be awake.

  9

  The healers’ room smelled of sweat and sand. Dust danced in the late evening sunlight that poured through the open door. A few more cots were occupied now, the others still bare mattresses and folded linens. Someone hacked and coughed, a healer at their side. Gray streaked the healer’s braids, her bright and colored salas twined among them.

  Amastan’s cot was in a corner, as far from prying eyes as Thana could bribe the healers to put him. He lay flat on his back, a thin blanket pulled up to his chin, his tagel knotted in place. Someone had been kind enough to give him an extra pillow. Although his dark brown skin was still ashen, he no longer looked as if he might blow away.

  His eyes opened as she approached and Thana let out the breath she’d been holding too tight in her chest. He was fine. He was all right. She wouldn’t have to stumble around on her own any longer. But even as relief blew through her, a heavy realization settled on her shoulders: Amastan was too broken to come with her.

  He smiled weakly at her. “What took you so long?” His voice was a rough whisper.

  Thana pressed his hand between hers and tried to dampen her broad smile. “Just trying to complete our contract.”

  Amastan squeezed one of her fingers. “You know you can’t finish it without me.”

  “Shouldn’t, maybe,” said Thana. “Can’t? We’ll see. In case you didn’t know, you got yourself thrashed last night.”

  “I only need a few days.”

  “We don’t have a few days.”

  Amastan’s expression tightened into determination. He shifted, trying to sit up. Thana moved to assist him, but he batted her away. She was forced to watch until he’d maneuvered himself upright. The effort left him panting and pale. He scowled down at his own hands.

  “I have enough baats—” he began

  “Don’t. You know how much that angers the healers. And G-d,” she added reflexively.

  “I’ve done plenty to anger G-d for my lifetime. What’s a little more?”

  “Then maybe it’s time we both tried to make amends. Do you remember what happened?”

  “Last night?” Amastan touched the back of his head. “Hard to forget. Someone threw me into a wall. And there were men…” He trailed off with a frown. “They were dead.”

  “Well, it’s worse than that.”

  “Worse than the dead walking?” Amastan raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know. That would top my list.”

  “I thought you were more afraid of jaan.”

  Amastan shrugged. “Jaan didn’t attack us last night.”

  “About that…”

  She told him everything she’d learned since she’d left him with the healers. As she talked, Amastan’s eyes reacted to each revelation, widening further and further. For a while after she’d finished, Amastan remained quiet, his gaze unfocused as he thought.

  “You’ll join the caravan.”

  It wasn’t a question. Thana nodded, reassured that he’d come to the same concl
usion. “I have to. I don’t have the time or energy to try to strike before he leaves, and I already checked—the next caravan goes out tomorrow.”

  “Early?”

  “Two hours before sunrise.”

  Amastan closed his eyes. “You can’t go alone.”

  “There you go, using that word again.”

  “You know what I mean. At least talk to Menna. Her expertise as a marabi would be very advantageous on this contract.”

  Thana shook her head. “I don’t think Kaseem would appreciate me taking Menna on. He was very explicit when he said she’d never work a contract again.”

  “Kaseem wouldn’t need to know,” said Amastan.

  “Look at you, willing to break rules.”

  Amastan cracked an eye. “Once a cousin, always a cousin. Kaseem doesn’t have a say over that. But you’re right—Menna might be more of a hindrance than a help. What about asking Dihya or Ziri?”

  “If I had months or even weeks to get used to them and learn their styles—but we don’t have time. It’s better to go alone than to try to work with a cousin I don’t know. At least I know what I can do.”

  “Thana—”

  “Amastan,” she cut in. “I’ll be fine, all right? I’m not like the other cousins. I’m the Serpent’s daughter. Besides, the mark’s going to be isolated in a caravan for weeks. It’ll be easy. Especially if you help me. If you don’t, I’m going anyway, and then if I fail we’ll both be outed and executed for trying to kill an ambassador. Or worse.”

  She paused, letting him imagine the “worse.” She realized then that she’d never told him about the contract’s peculiar stipulation that her body would be forfeit. Amastan would worry enough for both of them without knowing that.

  Amastan let out a long, low sigh. He looked frailer than before, as if their argument had worn him out. “You’re just as stubborn as her, you know.”