Death of the Immortal King

by Sarah McCarthy

  The first sailor she found turned her down flat, laughed mockingly in her face. The next asked her if she had her work papers.

  “Papers?”

  “You’re not clan, are you?” The man was making notes in a ledger with a quill, not looking at her.

  “No.”

  He slammed the book shut. “Then you need papers.”

  He strode off, Elaine jogging after him. “Where do I get those?”

  “At the work office.”

  After some asking around, she found the work office: a dingy grey building in a side alley off the wharf.

  “What kind of work you looking for?” a woman asked, after Elaine had waited nearly an hour in line.

  “I can do anything. But I’m best at ship building. Sanding, carpentry, hammering nails, fitting joints, sealing, any of that.”

  The woman blinked, her eyes rolling back in her head. “You’ll need a separate permit for each.” She held up a kerchief and hacked into it.

  “OK that’s great. Can I have them?”

  “Two silvers apiece.”

  Elaine swallowed. “Er, which of those do people need the most?”

  The woman shrugged. “Get a stamp from an employer. Sometimes they’ll pay your permit fee.”

  Elaine’s chest unknotted.

  “But you’ll need to pay your taxes.”

  “Taxes?”

  “For processing, for doing clan work, that sort of thing. Fifty percent of earnings. Payable at the end of the week.”

  “What? That’s ridiculous, though.” How was she supposed to earn anything that way?

  The woman glanced over her shoulder at the long line of people behind Elaine.

  “You want your papers or not?”

  Elaine considered the few silvers she had left. She’d better make sure she had work before she paid for papers she might not use.

  “I’ll be back.”

  Elaine spent the rest of the afternoon trying to find someone who would hire her, but even when she offered to work for free to prove her skills, no one wanted her. They either didn’t want to deal with someone who wasn’t clan, or they didn’t need anyone, or they looked at her and saw a little girl who would scuttle their boat.

  By the end of the day Elaine’s feet hurt and her spirits were more than a little dampened. But there was no way she wouldn’t find work. She was skilled, already better than many of the men who had worked for her father, and her father had hired the best. The thought of him brought a lump to her throat, and a terrifying sense of floating, of drifting apart, of being totally alone in the world. She wrestled her mind back and took a deep breath. There would be time to think about her father. When she had food and lodging and a job.

  She picked her way back through the ramshackle docks and found the Onera right where she had left it. She would sleep in her boat tonight. She’d just crawl under the canvas cover and no one would know she was there.

  Before she reached her boat, though, something set off an alarm in her mind. Glancing around casually, she scanned the area for anything unusual. A few old men were eating and smoking pipes on the next dock over, some children were poking at a jellyfish, but no one even looked at her.

  “Nice boat.”

  She glanced up and saw a man sitting on top of one of the pilings. He was about six feet in the air, and the piling was completely smooth. How had he even gotten up there? He took a long swig from a flask and hopped off, plummeting to the ground and rolling in a wild, ungainly way but somehow ending up on his feet, still swaying slightly.

  He grinned and bowed, which was when she noticed he was wearing the black and gold uniform of the Kreiss guard. His eyes were as black as her father’s.

  “Thank you,” she said, an edge in her voice.

  He stared piercingly at her. “You’re pretty polite for someone with a stolen boat. Which is to say, polite at all. Thieves, as a rule, are not. Especially to me.”

  Elaine swallowed. “It’s not stolen. It’s mine.”

  “Ah, lies. That’s more like it. What you were supposed to say, though, was ‘Who are you?’” He lifted his arms wide.

  “Who are you?” Elaine obliged.

  “I—” he paused for dramatic effect, “—am captain of the gods damned palace guard. And you, unfortunately,” he pulled out a list with a flourish, stumbling sideways slightly as he did so, “are in possession of…” he scanned the list. “The Onera. Owned by the Connoly clan. Previously owned by…” he stopped, dropped the paper into the water next to him, and stared at her curiously. “What is your name?”

  Elaine didn’t have time to think of a convincing lie, and she’d never been good at it anyway. “Elaine.”

  “Elaine what?”

  “Elaine ni.”

  “No clan affiliation?”

  “Not anymore.”

  His hand was on his sword hilt. “And before this, your clan affiliation was Connoly. Meaning you are Elaine ni Connoly, whose father Cormac was recently executed for treason.”

  “Yes.”

  “So, you’ve stolen back what was originally yours.”

  “Yes.”

  He realized he’d dropped the paper into the water, looked at it for a moment, shrugged, and glanced over her shoulder.

  “Hey!” came a shout. “How long are you going to leave us here?”

  Elaine turned and saw some heads poking up from the deck of a boat tied up at the next dock over.

  “What do you care, you’re going to jail anyway,” the captain shot back.

  “It’s wet down here! We’re hungry.”

  “Well, shut up. You’re under arrest, not in a nursery.”

  “Who’s she?” Another head poked up, and the captain glowered.

  “Elaine ni, that traitor’s kid,” the first one said.

  The captain glared at them, then he looked at Elaine. He lowered his voice. “I’d rather not arrest you, but I’d also rather not get hanged myself for letting a traitor go. You just look that way while I take care of these guys.” He moved to draw his sword.

  Elaine gasped and held out a hand. “Wait, what are you doing?”

  The man blinked at her. “I would have thought that was obvious.”

  “Please don’t hurt them on my account.”

  “You sure?” He gestured to the first one. “That guy killed three people. That I know of. That one was running a child prostitution ring. That other guy… well, he’s not so bad. He was just embezzling. We could probably let him go. He’s such a liar no one would believe him.”

  “No, definitely not.” Elaine paused. “Thank you, though.”

  “You’re very polite. You sure, though? Prison is bad. They’ll lock you up and then they’ll just forget about you. You’ll probably die in there.”

  Elaine swallowed. “No, thank you.” She’d be OK. She would find some way out.

  His unsettling black eyes evaluated her. “I can see you’re thinking it’ll be OK. That you’ll find some way out. That’s ‘cause you’ve been clan your whole life. You think things work out. They don’t.”

  “I’ll be OK. Thanks.”

  “You’ll be in prison.”

  Then Elaine would be in prison. She wasn’t going to be free knowing two men were dead because of her.

  “Really, they’re terrible people.” The captain had forgotten to whisper.

  “We can hear that,” one of them shouted.

  The captain drained the last of his flask and chucked it at the speaker. “I said shut up! Just because I’m arresting you doesn’t mean I have to talk to you.” He lowered his voice and addressed Elaine. “You sure? They’ll just reincarnate anyway.”

  She nodded.

  “Suit yourself, then.” He shrugged and began collecting his prisoners. “You’re just like your father,” he added, shackling her wrists and ankles and chaining her to the other three men. “He probably wouldn’t have either.”

  An electric shock went through her. “You knew my father?” But he was alread
y tugging the group forward, and she was at the end of the line. He reached for the flask at his side, found it missing, and cursed.

  “We’re stopping for booze,” he shouted back. “First one to say anything to me loses body part privileges.”

  No one asked him to clarify what that meant.

  39

  Elaine

  The captain found some lesser guards to pass them off to, clapping her on the back and stumbling away before she could ask him again about her father. The men led her towards a grey stone tower surrounded by high stone walls. It was the ugly cousin of the Mandrevecchian’s palace, sitting in its shadow. The gates crashed shut behind them, and Elaine was led through a maze of dark stone corridors. Cries and sobs and shouts of rage echoed through the halls. The air of the place was thick with the stench of unwashed bodies, waste, and fear. The captain’s words hit harder now. Whatever she had imagined when she’d thought of prison, it hadn’t been this bad.

  It’s going to be OK. She rubbed her numb hands together. Numenos, half of the endless emptiness, creator of all, watch over us, as everything that we are is you.

  “Where are you taking me?” she managed to ask, but they ignored her.

  Someone reached out through the bars of their cell and grabbed Elaine’s elbow as she passed. She jerked away, stumbling into a puddle of something thick and wet on the floor.

  Light filtered down through iron grates above their heads, and looking up Elaine could see only more walls, not even a glimpse of sky. She shuddered.

  They thrust her into a cell, slammed the iron bars into place, and left.

  Many eyes regarded her. A man slouched against one wall, his gaze swept down to her feet and back up.

  “Hello,” Elaine said, nodding to them and giving a short bow. No one said anything, so she went to sit near the wall, huddling up against it and pulling her knees into her chest.

  It was going to be OK. It was going to be OK. She closed her eyes, her lips moving in silent prayers to each of the gods and goddesses one at a time. When she finished all thirteen, she started over again. Eventually, her mind began to settle. Thoughts besides total panic began to return.

  A middle-aged woman lay on the floor next to Elaine. She was thin and there were bruises on her arms and legs. Her hair was stringy and oily, matted into chunks. When she started to cry, Elaine put a hand on her shoulder.

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  The woman flinched but cracked her eyes open to look at her. “Fine,” she said.

  “I’m Elaine.”

  The woman paused. “Mari.” Her voice was hoarse, and her lips cracked. She gave a sick, rattling cough, and wiped blood from her chin.

  “How long have you been here?”

  “I don’t know. Three years, maybe?” Mari closed her eyes again.

  “What is this place?”

  Mari raised an eyebrow. “This is Kreiss prison.”

  “I mean, are they holding us here temporarily? Until they decide how long we’re going to be here? Or…”

  Mari laughed. Then she looked up and saw Elaine wasn’t joking. She pushed herself up into a seat and looked at her.

  “This is prison. They’ve put you in prison, and they’ve already forgotten about you. That’s the best you can hope for.”

  “But… how long are we going to be here?”

  Mari stared at her. “Until they let you go.”

  “But, don’t they have to tell us how long we’ll be here?”

  People were starting to stare, and Elaine lowered her voice. “I mean, wasn’t there any kind of discussion or something?”

  Understanding dawned on Mari’s face, and she looked around at the others. She raised her eyebrows meaningfully at Elaine. “You must have come to watch the race a few weeks ago? From some tiny nowhere village?”

  Elaine glanced around. “Oh…Yes… Shift.” She said the first town name she could think of. It was a tiny little backwater place up in the foothills above Tarith. “I ran away from home to try to run the race. I stole a boat. It belonged to a Connoly.”

  Mari gave the tiniest of nods. A man leaning against the opposite wall spat on the floor. “Entitled rich skints.”

  Mari placed a hand gently on Elaine’s knee. “You’ll be here unless they have a reason to let you go.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like your family offers them a lot of money.”

  Elaine swallowed. “My family doesn’t have any money.”

  Mari coughed. “Mine neither. Then the only other way out is if the prison gets too full.”

  “They let people out if the prison gets too full?”

  “No. Then they stop feeding us.”

  Elaine recoiled. That can’t be true.

  “What did you do?” Elaine asked, hoping to distract herself.

  “I killed a man who was…bothering my daughter. He was a Coryn.”

  “Didn’t you go to the watch?”

  “Maybe the watch you have in Shift actually care about the people who don’t pay them. Or do you have any clans in Shift?”

  Elaine took a guess. “No. Too small for any clans to set up there.”

  “Well, that explains it. You pay your watch then, so they care. Most places, the watch is paid by the clans. So, they take care of the clans.”

  The man leaning against the far wall was eyeing Elaine. “That’s an awfully nice dress for someone from a nowhere place like Shift.”

  “I stole it, too.”

  “What, a dress just sitting in a boat? How convenient.”

  “I broke into a house.”

  “Just wanted something pretty to wear?”

  “Wanted money. I grabbed it as an afterthought. Didn’t want to be cold.”

  “Sure fits well.”

  “Leave her alone, Dem,” Mari said.

  “I see those looks you’re giving her, Mari.”

  “She’s just as locked up as the rest of us.”

  “Difference is, it surprises her. She thinks she’s worth more than us. Thinks she deserves to be informed of what’s going to happen to her.”

  “She just doesn’t understand.”

  “Anyone from a place like Shift would understand they’re worth nothing, and that no one has to explain a damn thing to them before they throw them in a pit like this.”

  “She’s just young, she doesn’t know anything,” Mari said. “Leave her alone.”

  “She’s clan.” The accusation hung in the air.

  “If I were clan I wouldn’t be here,” Elaine said.

  “Maybe someone made a mistake. Maybe you decided to try slumming it. Took off your crest. Maybe when they figure it out your clan will come rescue you. Maybe it will be too late. Because now you’re here, with us.”

  His eyes were watery and red-rimmed. The others were watching, but no one moved.

  Mari stood, her joints popping. She swayed on her feet, her grimy dress hanging down in threads. She moved between Elaine and Dem.

  “Bother this girl, Dem, and I’ll kill you.”

  Dem laughed contemptuously, but he averted his eyes. “Whatever, Mari.”

  Mari took a swaying step forward. “I swear it, Dem. By Yqtos, if you bother her, I’ll punch your throat in.”

  Dem glared at her. “Zastros’ balls, Mari. Give it a rest.” He hunched up and looked away. “You take things too seriously.” He sniffed and closed his eyes.

  Mari waited several seconds, but Dem didn’t say anything more, so she collapsed back against the wall next to Elaine. Fire blazed in her eyes. Her pale face looked sickly, but there was energy there. She took Elaine’s hand and gripped it. Elaine gripped it back, tears starting in her eyes.

  The hours began to pass. The dim light in the place faded and only the distant flicker of torches over their heads gave any indication of the existence of an outside world. Elaine became hungry, then starving, but no food came. There was a pot at the back that the others were using as a bathroom, and when Elaine couldn’t hold it an
y longer, she did the same, trying not to look at the overflowing contents, or at Dem and the other men who watched her from the other side of the cell.

  In the dark that night, someone started screaming. They screamed for hours and hours, and the sound cut Elaine to her core.

  In the morning the guards came with pots of rancid water and a sloppy mess of softened grains. Elaine and the others scooped handfuls out and thrust it into their mouths, dipping their dirty fingers into the water and bringing as much up to their lips in their cupped hands as they could. One man stuck his face in the pot and started sucking in water until the others angrily pulled him back.

  Elaine tried not to think about where the others’ hands had been, and how much of what she was eating and drinking had been touched by those hands.

  They ate until they had scraped the last of the mess out of the pot and drunk the dregs of the water. Then the guards took the pots away. Not seeing any other options, Elaine wiped her hands on her dress and returned to her spot at the wall, pulling her knees back into her chest.

  There was very little talking. A weight of hopelessness hung over everything, and, when Elaine did glance up curiously at her fellow inhabitants, she saw death and despair in their eyes.

  The next morning, Mari was dead.

  Elaine couldn’t believe how quick it was, how silent her passing had been. That was the end of her life. There was no more. She wondered if she had already passed into the gates of the underworld, if she had already forgotten the pain of this lifetime. She wondered who she would be born as next. She hoped she would be happy, wherever she was.

  Elaine arranged Mari’s hands so that her palms rested over her heart and placed a pebble in the center of her forehead. May Yqtos guide you safely on your journey, through the gates of death. She sat, numb, leaning against the damp wall.

  Mari’s body lay there all day and all night, getting colder and stiffer. The other prisoners barely looked at her. Except Dem.

  40