“Saikuro-shai, you have failed in your duty to the people of this city. Our people are dying, our livelihoods are suffering, and now we have an invasion of these rats in our island, telling us how to eat, sleep, breathe,” the man snarled. There was such hatred in his eyes. How could he have such hatred for a man who used to read bedtime stories to his daughter and buy her ice cream from the seller by the pier? “It’s time you paid your penitence, dusklander!”
The crowd roared in response and it raised the hairs on her arms, skin tingling.
“We won’t bow to your tyranny any longer!”
More clapping and jeering.
Then, to Kilai’s shock, her father began to laugh. It started as the quietest tremble of lips, until he was laughing hard enough that he clutched his stomach, eyes scrunched together and his shoulders shaking. A hush fell over the crowd as they watched him, stunned as she at such an astonishing sight. Had he snapped? It certainly seemed like he had gone mad, but to her it seemed the world had also.
The man behind him scowled as he realised he had lost control of the situation. This was her father’s power – the reason he had maintained office for so long – because he knew how to wield that power. She saw Yshi pause at the front of the crowd as he continued to laugh. With a sharp motion, the man jabbed the back of his head with his gun.
“Why are you laughing?”
Her father immediately sobered, eyes turning hard on the crowd. “You don’t know the meaning of this word. You think I brought you tyranny? I gave you a safe place. A home where you could be free to live as you were born and the only thing you had to suffer was a small force of soldiers and a curfew.” He shook his head as if he pitied them. “You do not know tyranny. I am the gatekeeper that stands between you and it. But I guarantee you that if I fall, then you will come to understand the ugly truth behind it.”
For a moment his captor seemed unsure how to react. Then his expression darkened as he looked back at the crowd. “Lies! See how he spews such lies! That is all we have ever known from this man.” He pointed to a woman in the crowd. “Meiyu-wei, did you not lose a child because this monster failed to take heed of a threat? Because these dusklanders he sympathises with shot our own in cold blood?”
She looked uneasy at the attention but nodded. The crowd tittered.
“And you, Guide. Is it not true that Shaikuro-shai has forsaken our gods? Has he not turned to the religion of the Dusklands? These baseless idols and liars that see our beliefs as the ramblings of savages? They do not know what we know. That this world is plagued by beasts from another realm and they draw nearer. The veil between our world and theirs grows thinner everyday and yet they do nothing!”
This was met with more responsiveness, some raising their fists as they cried out.
Kilai had tried. She had rounded up the few capable people she could find and tried to stop what was happening but she hadn’t understood the extent of it. The truth was, she had dismissed it, but that didn’t mean her father had to be responsible for her failings. If anything, she should be the one up there. Every thought about how to save him escaped her at the sight of the barrel against his head. What could she do? Her heart was beating so fast she could feel it in her fingertips.
Yshi was encroaching in on the makeshift stage, edging closer with careful steps, but he spotted her and gestured to his gun. The intent was clear: one false move and I’ll kill him. It was no good. The people were determined to see blood spill this day.
Fine. If they wanted a villain she would be it. Kilai strode through the crowd, keeping her head as high as she could. She pushed her way through the mass of bodies until she reached the steps. Some recognised her and spat, clawing with hands and nails and such vicious intent it numbed her. It was her mistake to care about their well-being; to think that doing so would make a difference, and now she would pay the price. But she would not make it again.
With ice in her heart she took the first step and stared up at him defiantly, at those eyes through the mask. So fitting, that this coward would hide his face. I am not hiding, she said with the tilt of her jaw and the unyielding weight of her gaze. She kept her eyes on him so she would not look at her father. Do not look, she chanted. Do not look. Do not look. Do not look.
“Take me instead,” she said in her most commanding tone. “I am the one who made the mistake. It is not my father you want. It is me.”
“No!” her father cried. “Leave me––”
He was smacked over the head with the gun and he sagged, head lolling as his eyes fluttered. A groan escaped his lips but he appeared to remain conscious.
“I don’t follow your orders, Chana.”
Remain calm. That was always the most important thing. The fire raged within her, charring her insides black with hate, but she forced herself to swallow the putrid feelings as she turned on the crowd. “Am I not the one you want? Am I not the one who dismissed your needs for my own selfish desires? You have no grief with my father, who has been nothing but a good governor to you. His only crime is his suffering from an illness beyond his control. I am the one who has angered you. So direct it at the true culprit, instead.” You cowards.
The crowd murmured amongst themselves, some faces appearing uncertain at this turn of events. For there was a curious paradox to her words; were they to direct their ire at her then it would appear they were following her orders. They would be giving her what she had asked for, and thus she would, in some way, have won. Yet to blame a man who could barely keep his eyes open as the blood dried on his skin – a man clearly not at the peak of his health – there would be nothing but sickening cowardice in it.
This was how you stopped a crowd. Pop the blister and let the pus seep until it trickled away to nothing. Then you dressed the wound. “I have put men on the task of fixing the rift and capturing the monster that plagues our city, some of whom come from the Order of the Riftkeepers. I promise you now that I will personally accompany this team. We can solve this if we work together.” She paused, surveying the faces turned in her direction. “But this? Murdering your own in your street? That will make you the monster. Do not stain our hallowed streets with the blood of our own kind. Do not taint yourselves with this pettiness, when there are other ways.”
“I beseech of you now,” she called out, voice hoarse, “will you give me one last chance to make amends?”
The words fell on silence as thousands of eyes gazed back at her, some turning to look at their neighbour. It is not my last chance, she thought as she swept her eyes over them. It is your last chance to prove to me you can make amends. Her father coughed, a guttural sound that racked his body, and she clasped her hands tightly together in restraint.
Eventually a murmur began to rise over the quiet. It was one of uncertainty; many voices rather that one unified. Kilai opened her mouth to deal a finishing blow to the rabble when the captor lifted his gun and pointed it towards her. She looked at him standing on the top step above her, at the eyes of the barrel that bored into her, and tried not to smile. She was afraid, yes, but he had also played right into her hands. The act of a desperate puppet master, losing control of his own show.
“Are you going to make a martyr of me?” she murmured, too low for anyone but him to hear.
His eyes widened behind the mask, mouth twisting. Anger seemed to take him then as he surged forwards. For a skipped heartbeat she thought she was going to die, but when the shot rang out she was still standing. The man in front of her crumpled to the floor, mask splitting apart and reigning down in a sprinkle of clay. She sucked in a ragged breath, realising just how afraid she had been, and looked behind her to see Janus with smoke rising from his revolver.
The crowd were clambering over themselves, screaming themselves hoarse, some trying to run. Janus grabbed her arm. “We need to move. Now.”
“Help me get my father.”
They took an arm each and struggled to carry him away. Kilai surveyed the writhing mass in front of her and realised ther
e was no way to cut through them – some still looked like they’d try to kill her if she tried. She pushed down Janus’ arm, the man looking all too ready to aim into the crowd.
“We’ll go up.” Her hands were slippery as she attempted to pry her keychain from her belt but she managed to get it out and unlock the door, letting all three of them into the sanctuary of her office. She slammed the door against the swell of the crowd battering against oak. “Var Kunir,” she breathed against it as it vibrated against her back with the force.
“You should look over your father,” Janus said as he closed the shutters over the windows, inspecting the locks.
“I don’t take orders from you,” she replied as she helped her father up. He groaned again but managed a smile, leaning against her. “Come on, I’ll help you up the stairs.”
She lugged him up the winding staircase and put him down on the bed in his room, taking a jug of water from the washstand so she could clean his wounds and attempt to bandage them despite not knowing the first thing about nursing. “Have you taken your medication?”
“I am fine, Ki-chi.” His hands were gentle on hers. “You saved me.”
“I just did what I had to.”
“It was very stupid. You almost killed your papa with shock and then you would have had to live with the guilt of having ended me yourself.”
Moist eyes flickered over the lines on his face, and she smiled despite herself, wiping at a stray tear that she couldn’t hold back. “We only have each other, right? I couldn’t just watch you die.”
“Shh.” He grasped the back of her head and pulled her into him as her arms wrapped around his waist. She sniffled into his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of cigar smoke and ink that reminded her of home. “You must––” he broke off as a cough racked his body “––you must leave here now, Ki-chi.”
She pulled back, eyes roaming over his face. “What? No. I won’t leave you.”
His face was pained. “What comes next… it won’t be pleasant. I would not have you in the midst of it.”
“I’m not leaving you!”
He looked ready to protest but he was possessed by a coughing fit again, his whole body shaking as he gasped and spluttered, doubling over. To her horror she could see blood seeping through his shirt, blooming a deep crimson red against snow white. When she lifted the cotton, revealed beneath was a long slash across his ribs and chest that wept blood. She felt her breath leave her in a gasp. “I need to… to…”
As she struggled to command her shaking fingers, she felt a presence behind her, and when she turned she saw Janus cross the room to kneel down beside her. “Why don’t you go and wash up. I can handle this.”
His hands were steady as he began to dress the wounds, something about his calm movements hypnotic.
“How do you know so much?”
Janus shrugged. “Used to be a soldier.”
That was the most she had ever heard about him. She’d seen the hardness in his eyes sometimes but had never felt the need to actually ask. Or rather, a firm sense of propriety had held her tongue, and kept it there even now. As it was she was too preoccupied to be concerned with his past, but it provided a steady distraction to her distress as she splashed water on her face – warm from the midday heat – and dried off with a towel. In the looking-glass her appearance was haggard; eyes heavy and sunken, skin ashen when compared with her normally warm brown complexion.
I am tired. She let the thought out and took a deep breath, banishing it from her head. There is work to be done. Kilai could not afford to be tired right now. She had a city to try and save. A legacy to try and save. For the past five hundred years her family had led Nirket. It was imperative she did not fail now, or she would be spitting on her father’s hard work.
Once composed she entered the room again to find her father dozing on the bed, breaths shallow and uneven, while Janus wiped his bloody hands on a wet rag.
“How is he?”
“For now he is fine. Hard to say for how long.”
Kilai rubbed her eyes and nodded. “The city is in havoc.” She led him back to the clattered mess of her office and glanced out the window. Even as the sun was sinking back into the sea, the protest was still going, albeit with smaller numbers than before. Bluecoats were trying to coax and prod the masses away from the square like cattle. By some miracle it had not turned into a bloodbath. Yet.
“What’s the plan?”
Her eyes flicked back to him. He was ridiculously calm. It made her wonder what kind of situations he had witnessed as a soldier. And where? She didn’t even know where he was from.
“Aren’t you the one with experience in this kind of scenario?”
Janus pointed at her. “The one with authority.” He pointed at himself. “The one that gets paid.”
Kilai snorted. “Careful. You’re sounding awfully like someone who shies away from responsibility.”
Janus looked at her for a long moment, unblinking. She couldn’t be sure but it seemed like she had finally hit a nerve. “We should convene with the others. Soldiers will be able to keep the crowd down for now.”
“For now?”
“Perhaps. Don’t think there is anything you can do that will appease them, however.”
“So… leave them?”
“It’s good to know when to walk away from the table if you’re dealt a bad hand.”
“Hold on,” she said, hands sliding to her hips. “Are you talking about cutting and running?”
“Wisest course of action.”
“This is my home! My city! My family’s history stretches back centuries and you want me to just abandon that?”
Janus looked unaffected by her outburst, eyes glancing back out the window. “What has this city done for you? Sentimental attachment to a place just sounds like folly to me.”
“What would you know of that? I don’t know your history, Janus, but a place is more than dirt and soil. It’s history, culture, religion, community. It’s home. Legacy doesn’t come with taking the easy option. It requires hard toil and a lot of difficult decisions, but in the end it is what has kept this city standing for so long against two warring empires.”
“Clinging to legacy is just arrogance. Do you really do this for the good of the city? Or your family’s good name? Think you would let them all burn for your family.”
Kilai’s nails dug into her skin through the fabric of her skirt. She wanted to yell, scream, throw things, but she thought maybe he wanted her to so she could forfeit this argument. The veneer of his stoicism was a trap she was determined not to fall prey to. “I can do both. Is that so bad? You call it arrogance but it has been necessary to battle off the sharks constantly circling these waters. Besides, do you think you can judge me when your primary motivation is money?”
His mouth quirked. “Fair enough. Perhaps I’ve no grounds to criticise but you should consider it all the same.”
“I won’t run because I’m scared.”
“It’s not about fear,” he said, eyes distant. “Sometimes you need to do the smart thing over the right thing.”
“Where I’m from that’s called cowardice.”
“Cowardice is just a pretty word to make soldiers fall in line.”
Kilai wanted to argue more but she was interrupted by a knock at the door – three raps in quick succession followed by a double knock. That had been her signal with Yshi. “I’m going to get that.”
Janus was already creeping down the stairs, gun in hand. “I will get it. You’re too important for that.”
She snorted. “I don’t understand you at all.” Nevertheless, she braced herself at the top of the stairs in the event of an attack, watching as Janus stood to the side of the door before unlatching the bolt.
Yshi entered, eyes sweeping by Janus before they landed on her. “I’m trying to get this situation under control but it’s hard to do anything without exercising any real force. Have you seen General Dakanan?”
“No, not for so
me time.” Kilai paused. Yshi had implied she knew. “Where is he supposed to be right now?”
“At a time like this? He should be here, protecting the governor and leading this operation. It is unlike him not to be here.”
“You’re worried.”
“No. Simply concerned at what could have possibly delayed him.”
Kilai refrained from pointing out that there was little difference. “Come up to my office, Yshi-all. Lakazaar-wei and I were just discussing what we should do.”
Yshi eyed Janus warily as he slinked up behind her. “Is Lakazaar-wei equipped to be making these kinds of decisions?”
“He is in my employ and I trust his judgement,” she said quickly, meeting her gaze. “I trust you understand.”
Yshi nodded. “Indeed.”
“I must ask you a favour, All,” she continued once they were all standing around her desk. “I need you to watch over my father while we attend some business.”
“I am not a nursemaid, Shai.”
“No, but you’ve already admitted to me that you do not have the authority to legitimise force on the crowd below. And I also think you hesitate because of the unfortunate… incident regarding one of your soldiers.” Yshi hesitated, a vague look of discomfort flitting over her features. “So I am simply requesting you fill in for your superior in protecting the Governor.”
“What about you? What is so important that it would require you to leave the safety of the tower?”
Kilai ran a hand through her hair and sighed. “Something I have drastically overlooked. I assure you it is of the utmost importance. Will you help me?”
Yshi stared at her with discerning eyes, trying to read something off her face. “I do not like feeling useless. I will help you but you must take an escort for your safety. Lyss is waiting outside the door. Take her with you.”
“All right. Janus?”
He looked at her and nodded.
“Let us be on our way, then.”
*
“You’re sure this is the way?”
“Certain.”
Seeker paused to catch his breath, massaging his aching muscles as the boat bobbed over the waves. There was barely the faintest glimmer of moonlight behind the thick veil of cloud cover and it turned the soft waves an ominous black, everything steeped in heavy shadow indiscernible even to his advanced vision. As the clouds parted he could make out the vague form of an island in the distance, one that he had thought to be uninhabited jungle, too small to be of any use.
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