The boards creaked under his tattered leather boots, and he paused, listening. Nothing. He pulled the door open and went out into the chill night air. Fog lay heavy in the streets as he walked. Something skittered across his path up ahead. A cat maybe. He peered down an alleyway. Empty. Silently, he walked the streets, feeling like some evil spectre as he paused in front of a door, listening for any sound from within. He shouldn’t have waited until so late. Now was not the time. His heart thudded thickly in his chest. The wound began to ache, and when he looked down, he could see a darkness, like blood, seeping from it. He had to do something now. Or Kallia would wake and he would be gone. Would she ever find out what had happened to him? Or would she think he had left her? She might be all right. She could sell the horses, find somewhere to go. Her father would likely send more men, though.
At the outskirts of the village he came to a small cottage with a light in the window. He padded through the tangled garden and peered in a small, dirty window. A woman sat by the dying embers of a fire, knitting. Jedren pulled away, crouched down and made his way out.
He turned left down an alley. A great snore issued from a man slumped against the wall, clutching a bottle to his chest. Jedren approached, stood over him for a moment, his fingers itching. But what had this man done? Anything?
“I killed four yesterday,” Jedren muttered. “Isn’t that enough?” There was no answer.
He could do it. He could break this man’s neck quickly and silently. He knew he could. Then he could slip back to his warm bed with Kallia. They would sell the horses and be on their way. But this man didn’t deserve to die. He was just going to have the same problem tomorrow, though. And the next day. They needed a town. Somewhere permanent. Somewhere large, where he could find criminals. Where disappearances wouldn’t be strange or investigated too closely.
Jedren sighed and moved off, leaving the man to his sleep.
He came to a large, two-story house with carved wooden figures decorating the eaves. Some rich merchant. Was a rich man better or worse than a drunk? A rich man would be missed. Investigated. People were likely to find out it was Jedren and come after him. And then Jedren might have to kill them, too. He knew he could. And if they came for him, it was self-defense. He wouldn’t have to look for people to kill, then. But were they at all deserving of the death he would give them? Just doing their jobs? No. But, still, here was a man who had everything. Someone like Kallia’s father.
Jedren made his way around the back of the house and, wading through some flower bushes, pressed his face to the window and looked in. It was too dark to see inside, so he moved around to a door in the back and tried the handle. Locked. He was just turning back when a throat cleared behind him.
“Evening, sir,” the man said. He was a short man with a large nose and was dressed simply in a leather jerkin. He eyed Jedren knowingly, his hand resting on his sword hilt. “Can I help you with something?”
Jedren bit the inside of his cheek. The impulse to lunge at him, to wrap his hands around the man’s neck and squeeze the life from him hit him in a disgusting wave. He took a deep breath, shaking his head to clear in, and when he looked up he saw concern etched on the other man’s face.
“You look like you’re having a rough night.”
Jedren nodded. Weirdly, he felt a surge of gratitude, and a prickling in his eyes.
“How about you tell me what you’re doing here, and let’s see if we can figure it out.” The man stretched, cracking his back. “Name’s Arnold. What’s yours?”
“Jedren,” he said without thinking, then winced.
“It’s all right, Jedren,” Arnold said, moving forward a pace. “I’m not going to tell anyone.” He took Jedren’s upper arm and guided him to a stone bench overhung with flowers.
Jedren sat on the edge, felt the man heave down onto it next to him. The stone was cold. Jedren wondered what time it was, how long he had. Minutes? A few hours at most. He glanced at Arnold. This man looked like a guard, probably knew everyone in town. Maybe he knew someone… Jedren’s lip curled at his own stupidity. He would know someone who conveniently was going to be executed? Or who wanted to die? He moved to stand up.
“I’d better go. I’m sorry I… I needed money.”
Arnold placed a hand on his shoulder and gently but firmly tugged him back down.
“What for?”
“My… wife… and I. We’re running from her father. He… didn’t approve of the marriage.”
“Ah. I see.” Arnold crossed his arms and leaned back.
“But he was going to marry her off to… someone who would have hurt her. For money.”
“We do a lot of things we otherwise wouldn’t for money.”
Jedren glanced at Arnold, but the man was looking at his fingernails. “Right. Anyway, I’m sorry.” He had to go. He would retrace his steps, find the drunk.
“I’ve been following you for a while, you know,” Arnold commented. “Saw you arrive. Thought you seemed off.”
Jedren’s stomach twisted.
Arnold continued. “For someone who says they need money, you sure don’t seem like you do. Stared at that drunk in the gutter for quite a while. Now, I don’t know why a person would do that, but I do know it’s not something one does when they’re looking for money. If you’d searched his pockets, maybe. But, no. Until you got to this house, you looked in a lot of windows, and mostly not nice windows.”
He’d been following him this whole time? Sweet Numenos. What possible explanation could he give this man? He didn’t need much? He’d figured rich people would have guards?
“Gotta say, whatever the reason is, I’m curious. My gut tells me you’re in some kind of trouble.”
Jedren could feel whatever it was ticking down in his chest. He was sure now. He didn’t have long. He turned to Arnold and swallowed hard. He’d been wrong to think this would be easy, that he could kill a person every single day and never kill a single person who didn’t deserve it. No. He had to choose. And he chose Kallia.
“I made a bargain with the god of death.”
“That so?” Arnold’s brows lifted skeptically.
“I was killed on the road.” It felt good, to tell someone the truth. Even a single day of carrying this secret was heavy, he realized. “My wife’s father—” He paused, a bubble of joy rising in his chest. It felt so good to call her his wife. She was, in all the ways that counted. That was what they had to do next, he realized. She might not care, but he did. For her. “My wife’s father sent men to hunt us down. I tried to defend her. They killed me.”
Arnold picked at something in his teeth, his eyebrows climbing higher.
“When I got to the realm of death, Yqtos stopped me at the gates. He made me a deal. He would send me back, with the strength to protect her, but in exchange I have to kill one person every day.”
Something clicked in Arnold’s expression. Jedren couldn’t tell if he believed his story or not, but he could tell that at least Jedren thought he was telling the truth.
“So that’s what you were doing.” Arnold uncrossed his arms. “You were looking for someone to kill.”
“Yes.”
“And why not the drunk? Or the old woman?”
“They didn’t do anything wrong.”
“And you think you’re going to find someone who’s done something wrong? Something so wrong they deserve to die? In this tiny town? At this hour? And again tomorrow? And again the next day?”
“No.” Jedren gripped the cold stone edge, his fingers clenched. “I guess I was hoping… but…” he trailed off. He’d been lying to himself. He’d wanted to take the deal, so he’d found a way to convince himself it would be all right.
“Sometimes,” Arnold said. “We have to accept that we can’t have the things we want.”
The feel of Kallia’s warm, smooth skin in the firelight flashed across his mind.
Arnold continued. “Sometimes we can’t protect the people we love. Sometimes we fail them, b
ecause the cost of protecting them is too high. Have you really thought this through? Thought about just how many people you’re going to have to kill?”
Something turned over in Jedren’s heart. It didn’t matter. They would reincarnate anyway. They would have new lives. He knew without a shadow of a doubt now that the gods were real, the underworld was real. Reincarnation was real. He would send every person in this village to the god of death if it meant protecting Kallia.
Jedren reached out, gripped the front of Arnold’s jerkin, yanking him forward. In one smooth motion he stood, pulling the man up with him, then he threw him back down. His head cracked against the bench, and he lay still. The fist clenching around his heart released, the power flowing back into him. He shivered. I had to.
9
Jedren
Jedren awoke the next morning to find Kallia looking at him. Her hair was a tangled mess around her head, and he laughed. She grinned as he pulled her towards him.
Sometime later they headed down to the main room of the inn, which was busy and full of townspeople eating their breakfasts. The innkeeper brought them a pile of fried eggs and sausages and they ate, stealing glances at one another.
Every time the door opened, Jedren tensed.
If they tried to take him, he would fight. Would he have to fight the whole town? An image of himself standing over a pile of corpses crossed his mind. But it was accompanied by a strange thrill, a sense of power. Immediately, though, he imagined Kallia staring at him in horror. He saw her revulsion and fear, saw her running away from him. Maybe even back to her father.
The door banged open, and Jedren’s shoulders raised towards his ears. He paused, an egg halfway to his mouth, but the man only called out a greeting to some other patrons and went to order something at the bar. Jedren resumed eating.
Kallia eyed him. “What’s up?”
“Just ready to get out of here.”
“Me too.” She poked at her eggs. “I mean… it’s not all bad here.” She grinned.
“True.” He took a long swig of his watered wine, feeling his face heat. “You OK here while I go sell the horses?”
“Yes. But I’ll come with you. I was there when he bought them…” she trailed off, a faraway look in her eyes. Then she shook herself and hopped off the stool. “I’m full. Let’s go.”
He followed her as she swept out the door and went to collect the horses. The innkeeper had given them directions to several possible buyers. He trailed along behind her, leading the horses and enjoying watching the way she moved, when he suddenly realized which direction they were headed. Of course they would be going to the nicest house in the town. His skin prickled, his face growing hot. He took long, deep breaths, trying to calm himself as they approached the house. It looked different in the daytime. Had he hidden the body well enough? Had it already been discovered?
Kallia rapped sharply on the door, and it was opened a moment later by a servant.
“Can I help you?”
“Hello,” Kallia said, putting on her wide, noble lady smile. “We were hoping to speak with… Reginal Dourney. Is he in?”
“What is this regarding?”
Jedren stuffed his hands into his pockets to stop them shaking.
“We have some horses he might like to buy.”
The servant’s eyes travelled over the beasts.
“My master does not purchase stolen property.”
Kallia raised herself up, lifting her chin and puffing her chest. She looked the perfect picture of an affronted noble, and Jedren repressed a smile. “How dare you? These are mine. Gifts from my father.”
“I assume you have papers for them, then?”
“Of course.”
“May I see them?”
“You think I’m insane? We were robbed on the way here. My father has the papers at his estate, for safe keeping. He will send them upon sale.”
The servant began closing the door. “Sure he will.”
Kallia took a step forward, thrusting her boot into the doorway. The door bounced off it, and the servant grimaced. “Look, I’m sorry to bother you, but we’re in a bit of a hurry. I understand about the papers, so we’re willing to give you a good deal on them.”
The servant’s eyes narrowed. “Again. My master is not interested in stolen property.” He kicked her foot out of the way and slammed the door shut.
Kallia turned away, shrugging. “Well, worth a shot.”
“Zastros’ balls, you laid that on thick.”
She laughed. “Eh, I guess. Let’s try someone who won’t mind looking the other way about the papers, yeah?”
Jedren was only too happy to leave that house.
The next house was smaller, and the owner only wanted one horse, but was willing to by two if they gave him a good deal.
“Let’s sell him one and go,” Kallia whispered. Jedren looked out the window of the stable, down the street. No one was coming, but that didn’t mean no one was going to come. That body could be found any minute.
“It’s not that big of a difference in price,” he said. “Let’s sell him both and get going.”
She studied his face for several moments, then glanced down at his hands. He tried unsuccessfully to steady them.
“Yeah, all right,” she said. Turning to the short, pot-bellied man in front of him, she thrust out her hand. “Forty-five silvers, final offer.”
He took her hand and shook it, a slimy grin spreading on his face. “Excellent. I’ll draw up the—”
“We’re in a hurry. Cash now or no deal.”
He shrugged and pulled out a coin purse. He tipped the contents out onto a table, sorted through it, counting coins into the bag, and then handed it to her.
She nodded briskly, pocketing it, and looked to Jedren. “Ready?”
Gratefully, he nodded.
“Let’s go, then.”
When they were back on their horses and making their way out of town, Kallia rode up next to him.
“You worried my father’s got more men on the way?”
“Oh. No.”
She looked at him, her head cocked to one side, her eyes narrowed, but said nothing.
When they came to the edge of town, facing the open expanse of rock and scrub, Jedren paused, reigning in his horse. “Will you wait here for me a moment?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Um, sure, why?”
“Uh, privy.”
“Oh… sure.” He couldn’t tell if she believed him.
He handed her his reigns, dismounted, and took off at a jog. Hopefully she would think he just wanted to find a place where she couldn’t see. He ducked around a corner, slipping down a side steet, glancing left and right. Someone alone. Anyone. They were going to be out on the road for who knew how long. Days? He couldn’t risk it. They were leaving late enough that they might not find a town before nightfall, and then… he couldn’t even think about it.
Up ahead, a man carrying a basket full of bread was whistling to himself, walking alone down the alleyway. Quick and silent, Jedren darted up behind him, placing his hands on either side of the man’s head, and had broken his neck before the man even reacted. Leaving the body where it was, he turned and sprinted back the way he had come.
10
Jedren
He hadn’t needed to kill the whistling baker after all. Barely six hours had passed on the winding road before they came to an even larger town. In the very center loomed a white limestone temple to Ava, Goddess of Fortune. Jedren eyed it as they passed, their horses’ hooves clicking on the cobblestones.
How thoroughly did Yqtos want that destroyed? Did everyone in it need to be dead? Every stone pulled from every other? Could he set a burning taper to one of its beams and let the flames do the work?
Past the temple, the street narrowed, and they dismounted, leading their horses on foot. Jedren’s eyes travelled over the sandstone wall they passed, noting a small shrine set into the wall, a mess of wax from candles burned to honor Pomir, God of Dr
eams. Yqtos told him to destroy every temple not in his honor. Jedren had never even seen a temple to the god of death. He was rarely invoked, except at funerals and in curses.
They stabled their horses outside a ramshackle inn, secured a room for the night, and then went to wander the town together. They paused by a fountain in an overgrown courtyard. Perched on the edge, Kallia trailed her fingertips in the water.
“So,” Jedren said, following the path of her finger with his eyes, watching the little ripples that flowed out. “Now that we’re free, what do you want? A castle, maybe?”
She smiled. A dark shape darted up out of the depths of the water, nosed against her finger, and disappeared again with a flick of a fin. She jerked her hand back, then laughed. “I guess I never expected us to actually make it.” She glanced at him. “I mean, when you suggested we run, I was desperate. It seemed as good a way to die as any.”
He watched her silently. He wasn’t surprised to hear she hadn’t expected him to be able to free her, but it still stung.
She shrugged, tucking her shining black hair behind her ear and leaning farther over the water. “Now… it feels like… time I never expected to have. And I don’t know how much of it there will be. So… I just want to see what there is out here, away from… things.” She submerged her hand, the green water climbing to her elbow. She made a face. “Oh gods, it’s slimy.” She stuck her hand in farther and looked at him. “Feel this. It’s disgusting.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “I’m good.”
But, seeing her disappointment, he grudgingly rolled up a sleeve and stuck his hand into the water. Bits of brown slime floated on the top, clinging to the hair on his arm. “Yep. Disgusting.”
She stuck her other arm in. “I’m going to see if I can grab the fish.”
“What? Why?”
“I don’t know, just to see if I can.” She felt around, splashing water onto her dress.
Death of the Immortal King Page 7
