Behind the second door she heard a noise and shoved Viktor aside. “Hold that thought.” Then as the door opened, she grabbed the figure’s arm and twisted it behind them, clamping a hand over their mouth as she pressed them to the wall. It was the same soldier that had taunted her the first time she had been in the cell, now wriggling in her gasp.
“Stop struggling or I’ll slit your throat.” She could easily do it with the key in Viktor’s hand, although it would be messier than she’d like. “Nod if you understand.”
The man tried to bite her hand, bucking against her. “Bitch,” he hissed into her skin.
“If that’s how you want it.” She jammed her hand into the tender part of his temple until he slumped over, his weight heavy in her arms. “Back down we go, come on, Viktor.”
“What are you doing?”
“Revenge.”
“Is that necessary?”
“I’m a petty woman. What can I say?”
So she took a kind of indulgent satisfaction out of chaining him up and leaving him in her cell before she slipped back up the steps towards the exit. A quick check through the crack on the door revealed a quiet hall. Two guards wouldn’t be too hard to deal with, even without a weapon, although her fingers itched for the ghost of her blades. Without them she felt naked.
“You ready for this?”
“Ready for what?”
“Do you know how to fight?”
“Sure? I mean, I’ve––”
“Good enough. Let’s go!” She could hear Viktor’s strangled cry of protest as she burst through the door and launched herself at the first guard, swinging him to the ground with her body’s momentum. He tried to fight her off but she kneed him in the gut and he gasped, heaving. The second tried to pry her off, fingers clawing. She rolled and tripped him over and he crashed to the floor, sprawling across the ground, boneless.
The first managed to scramble to his feet again and stagger towards her, violence in his eyes. She braced herself for impact when his eyes suddenly widened and rolled backwards. His whole body shuddered and crumpled to the floor, Viktor standing over him with a chilling kind of fury in his eyes. For a moment she thought he might hit the man again, fists clenched tight and chest heaving, but he seemed to shake himself out of his daze, almost disorientated as he met her eyes.
We’re even more alike than I thought. “Come on, I need to find my blades.”
“Shouldn’t we get out of here? We can take their guns.”
“It’s important,” she called as she burst through another door. Not it. Where are you? The riftblades were a part of her; she’d be able to sense them if they were nearby. She followed the tingle of her senses until she found a storage space in the back with confined items from prisoners.
The noise from outside was growing louder and she could sense Viktor’s agitation from how he hovered in the doorway, eyes flicking inside, outside, and back inside again. “Please stop that. You’re making me nervous.”
“Oh, sorry. How inconsiderate of me.”
She snorted. “Ah, ha!” She found her blades on the top shelf at the back, coughing as dust plumed into the air when she dragged the box down. A sense of rightness settled into her bones at lifting them up again and twirling them in her hands. “I’ve missed my babies very much.”
Viktor’s face twisted in disgust. “I bet you have names for them, too.”
“Hm. Now there’s an idea!”
“Can we go now?”
Rook strapped her blades across her back. “Right. Good plan.”
They made their way back out of the jail, taking caution at leaving by the front entrance. It proved to be entirely unnecessary. People flooded the streets, pushing and shoving one another in one great wave, some screaming, some chanting whilst pumping their fists into the air. It was a sea of colour and voices and it made the perfect cover for them both to slip into, carried by the current away from the furore in Shanku Square.
“What in the Locker is happening?”
Rook grabbed Viktor’s arm so they wouldn’t be separated by the jostling of the crowd. “Just let it take you. We’re probably safer this way.”
Eventually the crowd began to thin out and they were able to steal away. Rook breathed a sigh of relief at finally being able to draw in air, looking at Viktor’s equally strained expression and laughing. “Well, we managed to escape.”
“What was that about day and dawn?”
“Fair enough. We have business that needs attending. We should head back to the Order, maybe––”
“No, I know a place near here. This way.”
Curious, Rook let Viktor lead her through the winding backstreets that sloped up the hill, deadly quiet despite it being the peak of the mid afternoon. Either the townsfolk were part of the rabble or they were hiding in their homes from the backlash coming from the soldiers. It lent the streets an eerie atmosphere, each crackle of debris or chirp of the birds amplified manifold.
The houses grew shabbier as they walked, more densely packed together, some piled on top of one another where there was no more space. Rather than the pretty pastel colours of the centre near the harbour, these buildings were drab in colour, gutters thick with dirt and grime, and there was the stench of dank sewer water in the air.
Viktor stopped at one of the buildings, more of a shack nailed together from sheets of metal and wood. “Welcome to the poor part of town. Enjoy your stay,” he said with a grand bow, one arm tucked in at his waist.
Rook mimicked tipping a hat. “Thank you, honourable don. I shall relish my time at this fine establishment.
They both looked at one another and laughed.
Inside it was damp, roof sagging in the middle with a portentous water stain that was turning green with mould. Rook felt water drip on her head as she walked in, cool despite the afternoon’s heat. A few boxes were scattered around a ratty blanket in the corner with some discarded newspapers below as a lining. It was not particularly pleasant but shelter was shelter and it would do for them to catch their breath and work out their next move. If Viktor wanted to join her, that was. He had no reason to, she mused, as she rubbed her sore wrists and sank onto an empty crate with a sigh. Viktor peered out the taped window with his back to her.
“What happens now?”
“What do you want to happen now?”
He turned, brows furrowed. “I don’t know. I used to think all I wanted was to get away from here. But it’s not like I even know where to go.”
That was a sentiment she could understand. Family was a complicated beast and more often than not it seemed that they could be more burden than boon. After all, her legacy had been nothing but bloodshed and warfare, and Rook wanted more than that for her life. But to leave behind all you had ever known was no easy step to make. Even now she wondered if she had done the right thing. I haven’t exactly made things better here, have I?
“That’s what an adventure is for, no? You go out into the big bad world and try to find your place in it.”
“Have you?”
“Well, no. I suppose you could say I’m still searching. That’s the fun part.”
“That’s not much help.”
Rook hummed, examining her own mirrored reflection in the surface of her blade. “It sounds to me, Viktor, like you’re searching for something, but perhaps not the thing you think you’re searching for.”
Viktor sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. There were deep shadows beneath his hazel eyes, the colour of olives in the light streaming from the window. “Do you always have to speak in riddles?”
She smiled. “I think you’re searching for who you are. Or, who you want to be. Speaking from experience, that’s no easy thing to find.” She found she couldn’t look him in the eyes then, her own a light grey in steel. Her father’s eyes.
“What would you suggest?”
“Come with me. Help me. Let’s fix this rift – and all the others. Somewhere out there you might find your answer.”
&nbs
p; “Why?”
“Ah. Why would I want your help? Company is no bad thing, you know. It would seem I may be down a companion now, anyway.” She tried a laugh but it came out hollow. “Maybe I just see myself in you. Humans are narcissistic like that.”
“You believe he – Alik – is really gone?”
“After this length of time? I believe so.”
“You were… close?”
“No,” she admitted, rubbing her brow. “I barely knew him. It’s more that I failed to save him. When I joined the Order I vowed to try and make a difference. Before my life was endless fighting and killing and losing control to this thing inside me. I wanted to be better, but I fear that I can’t change as easily as I had thought.” When she finally looked up at him his face was hard to read, eyes flickering over the unshed tears welling in her eyes. “Do you believe it’s possible to change?”
“I would hope so otherwise I’ll be stuck in the same Locker-damned existence for the rest of my life.” Viktor looked back at her thoughtfully. “I think the fact that you care so much probably means that you can, though. Although why you would ask for my advice is beyond me.”
“You’re the only one here.”
He laughed and there was genuine feeling in it, his eyes creasing at the corners. “That is the only situation in which someone would ask for my advice.”
Despite herself she laughed too. “Likewise, I think.”
“I’m from the Yllaizlo,” he said suddenly. “I know that much. But I was so young when I came here that I don’t remember it, or how I even got here.”
Rook opened her mouth but wasn’t sure what to say, aware of the fragility of the moment, easily shattered by clumsy hands. “I need to go to Tsellyr once this is all over. Shouldn’t be hard to find a ship going that way.” An open offer wasn’t too intimidating.
Viktor bit his lip as he thought. “I wouldn’t complain about getting out of here.”
There was a twinge of her senses, alerting her to the stirring of a strong presence. It tickled her nostrils. She sneezed and wiped her nose, reaching out to try and locate where it was coming from. It wasn’t too late to try and fix this mess. Now that she had an idea of what she was dealing with it would be easier to kill this Gorgei, to finally make up for all her mistakes thus far. Then she could go and seek out the headquarters of the Order in Tsellyr for expert help. She could sense the unravelling threads of resistance and knew it would not be long before the rift destabilised completely.
“What’s happening?”
Rook grimaced. “We need to find this riftspawn now and then I think we need to go back to the rift.”
“What about the protests? Or, you know, the fact that we just walked out of jail?”
“It won’t really matter if reality as we know it ceases to be.”
Viktor scratched his head. “Life was simpler before I met all of you.”
“It wasn’t simpler. You merely thought it was.”
“Oh, quit trying to be clever.”
“Trying?”
He gave her a flat look and she smiled. “You ready to save the island?”
“Does it have to be right now?”
Rook stood up and stretched out weary limbs. Rolling her neck until it cracked, she looked him square in the eye and said, “No time like the present.”
Viktor sighed. “Lead the way.”
*
“Sure you want to do this?”
Kilai threw Janus an impatient look as she tried to break into the swell of bodies packed together. She had been trying for some time to try and get back to her father’s office but it was impossible to get anywhere near the centre of town. Even when she used her most commanding voice she couldn’t make them listen, as consumed by the momentum of the atmosphere as they were. The stamping of feet vibrated through the ground. It felt like the motions were running through her body.
“Var Kunir damn them!” she exclaimed, kicking at a stone. In the midst of all those people she was beginning to lose her breath, the heat from their bodies overwhelming.
Janus looked as calm as ever, infuriatingly so, as he inhaled on his cigarette and blew smoke into the sky. With a flick of his finger, he dropped it and ground the embers with his heel, then pulled out a gun. Before she could open her mouth to protest he fired off a shot. It cracked into the air, several people around them flinching and turning in the direction of the noise.
“Are you witless?” she exclaimed, grabbing at his sleeve.
“Trust me,” he said, holding the gun up. “Stand back or I’ll shoot.”
Some of the crowd glared, looking ready to attack him for his audacity, but most people immediately stepped backwards out of range, and Janus cut through them, pulling her with him.
“Do you want to die?”
Janus glanced at her as he continued to plough through the crowd. “Not before I finish my last cigarette, no.”
“You are impossible.”
“And still kicking, apparently.” He grabbed the hand of a man that got too close, pulled him forward and jabbed his elbow into his gut until he folded over, coughing. “That one of your folks?” he said, pointing at a flash of indigo in the crowd.
It was Yshi, trying to keep the crowd in line, to little avail.
“Dusklander! Dusklander!”
“We want payment for out crops!”
“My son is dead!”
The voices competed for space, drowning one another out in the rabble. Kilai turned back to Janus. “They’re not my folk. I’m the governor’s daughter.”
Janus gave her an inscrutable look but she breezed past him, waving frantically in the direction of Yshi. The woman was alert, eyes scanning the crowd, and they landed on her in an instant. Drawing her sword, Yshi pushed through the spitting crowd and plucked Kilai from the crowd, pressing them both towards the wall of a building. Vision obscured by so many faces surrounding her, Kilai felt overcome with disorientation.
“What’s going on?”
Yshi’s eyes were still on the crowd, gripping her sword so tight her knuckles strained against skin. “I don’t know what stirred them up so severely. There was a man blaming one of my soldiers for the deaths of his family and when we tried to remove him it appeared to open the door to madness.”
“You removed him? Why would you go and do a thing like that?”
Her gaze hardened. “He was saying treasonous things about the Emperor. He is lucky he left with his head intact.”
“Do you realise you played right into their hands?”
“Into whose hands?”
“The movement that has been rising against us. Surely you are not so blind as to not have seen it. These protests have been going on for some time now and they’ve only being growing in numbers.” She exhaled through clenched teeth, hissing. “I should have foreseen this.” The more she watched them rage and burn in one ravenous movement, hungry for whatever notion of justice lurked in their minds, the more her anxiety grew within her. If the fire grew any larger it would be impossible to douse, and who knew what destruction would follow in its path.
“There has to be some way to stop this.” She pressed fingers into aching temples.
“We should strike them down. That will stop then.”
“Or it will be wood for the pyre.”
Janus slipped up to her other side. “They won’t stop until they have a head.”
The words were like a sailor’s knot, tightening within her as he pulled the rope taut. A head. A figurehead. They needed someone to blame – blood to be shed for mistakes shared between many – and there were few public enough to satiate this drooling beast now. No. No, I must stop this.
Kilai turned to Yshi. “Do what you have to. Command your men. Strike them down.”
“I do not have the authority to give this command. You must talk to General Dakanan.”
“Where is he?”
“Somewhere he can be of most use.” There was an edge that slipped into her tone that the woman ra
rely used.
Kilai sized her up despite the comical gulf between their gazes. “Was this the plan all along? I know you’ve been desperate to get your greedy hands into my father’s purse. To take this island completely. You started this deliberately, didn’t you? Incited them to riot.”
“I assure you that we would never need to do that. It would have taken very little to remove your father from office and it would have happened as soon as he proved incapable of the position. Which has long been evidenced.”
“I will make sure to––”
She was cut off by Janus grabbing her shoulder and pulling her back, fingers digging into flesh and bone hard enough to bruise. Kilai turned on him, eyes flashing, but he gestured with his chin into the throng. A gasp escaped her as the tension suddenly fled her body and she fell against him, his arm around her waist holding her up.
Upon the steps of her father’s office stood a man with a prisoner at his feet, gun pressed to the back of his head as he squeezed his eyes shut. Blood trickled down his dark skin from a cut on his forehead and his lips moved as he spoke a prayer swallowed by the din. It was her father.
Her fingers latched onto the cloth of Janus’ jacket as she stumbled forwards, the only noise she could hear a sharp whistling between her ears. A scream lodged itself in her throat, mouth moving but the words were stolen by her fear. The temperature plunged into icy cold, numbing her.
Yshi brushed past her with her sword out, cutting a path through the crowd. Kilai tried to shout out to her but she was completely frozen. Janus followed behind her as her own personal shadow, disappearing into the throng. She could only watch in horror as everything unravelled before her eyes at the same time.
The crowd undulated around her; pulsing like some wicked, mindless force, calling and screaming for her father’s head. After all they’d done for the people of this city… one mistake and they wanted to see him dead. It blackened her heart as the man standing over her father thrust him forward. Fear was etched into every line of his face. That face she knew so well it was almost alien to see it in a way she never had before, tense and cold.
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