Endless Water, Starless Sky

by Rosamund Hodge

  And the song of death grew quieter, and the darkness began to fade. There were still inky, unnatural shadows everywhere, but the air had lost that cold, sweet sense of blowing across an infinite expanse; faintly, Juliet could see the walls of the room. She could hear the hissing of the revenants in their cages.

  Makari grabbed her hair. “What have you done?”

  “You made me the key,” said Juliet, her lips still numb but curving in a grin. “You made the living Juliet the key.”

  “The Juliet is only a weapon—”

  “—forged for a single purpose, and that is protecting my people. What did you expect?”

  He slammed her to the ground and knelt over her. He dipped a finger in Justiran’s blood and wrote a word on his palm. She knew that it was the sacred word for trust, which the Catresou used to form the bond between Juliet and Guardian.

  Makari pressed his palm to her forehead. “Open the gate,” he said, his voice shaking with rage.

  Juliet could feel the sign he had written burning on her skin, but it had no power over her.

  “No,” she said.

  Juliet was helpless, pinned to the ground, and would likely die in a moment, but her body thrilled with defiant exultation.

  “I order you,” he snarled.

  “You’re not my Guardian,” she said. “You don’t own me, Runajo does. You’re not Catresou, not Mahyanai. You are nobody I have to obey.”

  Makari stood, his face becoming cold. “I will kill Romeo,” he said. “I will kill him and raise him again and again, as many times and as painfully as it takes until you obey.”

  “No,” said Juliet.

  She was not afraid. There was no room left in her for fear, not when every last scrap of her will was focused on defying him, on silently whispering no, no, no to the power that still rippled through her body.

  She didn’t think she could move yet, but it didn’t matter. All she had to do was refuse.

  “Romeo loves this world,” she said. “I will not destroy it to save him. I can watch him die if I must, but I will not break him.”

  “I will break him,” Makari snarled, turning away from her, and then fear did stab through Juliet’s heart, because he was surely going to do it now—

  And then Makari gasped and halted, shuddering.

  From where she lay on the floor, Juliet couldn’t quite see what was happening. Makari fell to his knees with a thump, and gasped, “You.”

  His lady stood over him, holding a bloody knife, and then Juliet understood.

  Makari pitched to the side, gasping for breath. But he must have been stabbed straight through the heart—his shirt was already drenched with blood.

  His lady sat beside him and gently lifted his head into her lap.

  “Why?” he asked. “I would have—”

  She muffled him with a kiss.

  “I want to die,” she said when she raised her face. “I want to die.”

  Makari shuddered and gasped. Then he was still.

  And Juliet felt his power leave her. She sat up—her vision swayed a moment in sudden dizziness—and she looked at the other Juliet.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  The other Juliet stroked Makari’s forehead. “I want to die,” she repeated quietly, calmly.

  Juliet got to her feet. She was still a little unsteady, but she made it the few steps she needed to kneel by Justiran’s side. His face was pale, his sightless eyes wide open; his skin was still warm, but he was very clearly dead.

  I was not born to give you peace, she had told him, but that wasn’t quite true. He had been Catresou once, and the Juliet created peace for all her people.

  “Go swiftly and in gladness,” she said quietly. “Forget not thy name, in all the dark places. Forget not those who have walked before thee. Heed not the nameless, who crawl and weep, but carry thy name to the Paths of Light.”

  There was a thud behind her, then another. Juliet bolted to her feet and whirled, nearly lost her balance, and then saw what had alarmed her: the living dead were falling.

  It was surreal. Horrifying, and yet almost comic. One by one, Makari’s servants—dead still, but living dead no more—collapsed to the ground and were still. They didn’t cry out, they didn’t flinch or gasp. They toppled like puppets with their strings cut.

  The sight was so bizarre that for one moment, Juliet didn’t think anything of it.

  Then she thought, Paris.

  The next moment she was calling silently, Runajo?

  Yes? said Runajo after a moment.

  Did you find Paris? Is he—

  Yes. He’s free.

  But there was a restraint to Runajo’s thoughts; Juliet could tell that she was trying to hold something back, some memory or emotion from what had happened.

  Is he alive? she demanded. Right now?

  I’m watching him hug Romeo this moment, said Runajo, and the confusion in her voice sent a wave of relief down Juliet’s spine.

  Are you all right? Runajo asked after a moment, strangely hesitant.

  Yes. Makari’s dead. His servants too. The hissing of the revenants grew louder—

  The hissing was from all around her.

  Her body knew before her mind had finished comprehending: she dived for Makari’s corpse and wrenched the sword away from him.

  She turned and raised the blade just in time to meet the first revenant.

  Juliet? Juliet! Runajo’s voice was desperate in her mind; something must have slipped through the bond.

  Revenants, Juliet snapped, dodging and then lashing out with her sword. But this revenant was new, not rotted away; the sword wasn’t sharp enough to slice all the way through the neck. Its head wobbled, and it lunged at her again.

  Juliet grabbed it by the hair and wrenched.

  One unspeakable moment later, the thing was dead, and she called to Runajo, Ballroom. First floor.

  Not all of Makari’s servants had risen yet; of those that had, most were still moving slowly, not yet fully awakened. Juliet knew she might have only moments left before the whole crowd was upon her, and then her speed and strength and sword would not be enough; they would pile on her and tear her to pieces. All her instincts screamed at her to run, but she had to kill them before they escaped into the rest of the city—

  She had to make them come at her one by one.

  She seized the other Juliet by the arm and hauled her to her feet. Makari’s corpse tumbled to the floor with a thump; Juliet ignored it, already dragging the other girl to the nearest door.

  There were several doors into the ballroom. But revenants were too witless to use strategy; they would run to the nearest living human, and that was Juliet.

  “I want to die,” said the girl.

  “Not now,” said Juliet, shoving her out into the hallway. Then she turned and planted herself in the doorway—just in time to meet the next revenant.

  She killed it. And the next, and the next.

  There were still more.

  Juliet’s arms burned with exhaustion, and her breath rasped in her throat. She couldn’t remember how many living dead had been in the room when she entered it. She only knew that she had to stop them from leaving.

  She hoped desperately that she had been right, and none of them were going for the other doors.

  “Need help?” Vai called out, and the next moment slid through the door under Juliet’s sword. Somebody followed: Paris.

  Juliet charged after them, and the three of them made short work of the remaining revenants.

  When they were done, for a few moments, all Juliet could do was gasp for breath. She was near the center of the room; Makari’s corpse lay near her. He hadn’t moved once; whatever magic had bound him so closely to the Ruining had also stopped his body from coming to life once his soul had fled.

  All around her lay the heads and bodies of the slaughtered revenants.

  They had not been living when she killed them, but they had been new; there were wide pools of black blood all
across the floor, and suddenly Juliet remembered the pools of blood in the Catresou compound, when Lord Ineo gave the order and she killed and she killed and she killed—

  She rubbed a shaking hand across her face. It’s over, she told herself. It’s over. He can’t give you orders anymore.

  She forced herself to look around the room again—to notice that the foul smell of the black blood was different—and she saw, standing only a few paces away, Paris.

  One of her kin, who had actually been saved.

  She walked toward him. “Paris,” she said.

  He turned to her, and for one moment his face was blank and empty, so close to how he’d been attacking Lord Ineo’s house that for a moment she feared—

  Then he dropped to his knees. “Lady Juliet,” he said, his head bent low. “I have sinned against you and our people.”

  She swallowed past the ache in her throat. She remembered how carefully respectful he had been when they had met, how it had touched her even in the midst of her grief for Romeo.

  “I have as well,” she said, and laid her hand on his head. “Rise and serve me.”

  He seized her hand and kissed it. “I will,” he said, and got to his feet.

  “Is Romeo safe?” she asked.

  “Yes, and waiting nearby,” said Vai, sauntering up beside her. “Did you have a plan for what to do next about him, or were you counting on dying first?”

  “I . . . thought I would probably die,” Juliet admitted.

  Vai snorted. “Well, it’s obvious why you two belong together.”

  “Of course now I’m going to—” Juliet broke off when she saw Runajo standing in the doorway. “What are you doing here?”

  “Coming to your assistance,” said Runajo, sounding cross. She wasn’t looking at Juliet; she was staring at the carnage of the revenants.

  “You are useless in a fight,” said Juliet.

  She knew that, had even one of the revenants escaped, Runajo probably would have been dead anyway. But it still filled her with a peculiar, helpless fury to know that Runajo had been standing just outside while they fought—a revenant could have gotten to her, and Juliet might not have even known until it was too late.

  “I’m the only one who knows anything about magic,” said Runajo. “Where did they all come from?”

  “His servants,” said Juliet, and couldn’t help glancing at Paris. “They all died when he did, and rose again after.”

  “That’s not normal,” said Runajo.

  “What part of the attempted necromancy and massive carnage tipped you off?” asked Vai.

  “No,” said Runajo, “it’s the dead who turned to living dead in seconds.”

  Cold fear seized Juliet’s heart. When the dead had started rising in one day instead of three, it had meant the walls were almost destroyed. If they were rising instantly now, did that mean—

  “They were living dead,” she suggested desperately.

  “No, she’s right,” said Vai. “I’ve killed living dead before, and none of them rose so fast. Something’s wrong.”

  The revenants in the cages were still hissing and clawing at the bars. We have to kill them before we leave, Juliet thought distractedly.

  “How far did Makari get with his ceremony?” asked Runajo.

  “I stopped him,” Juliet protested. “The land of the dead started to open around us, like it did with Romeo, but I stopped him.”

  But she already knew what Runajo was thinking: that opening the doors of death might have gone no further than with Romeo, but that had been before the Catresou attempt. The walls were already weakened now. The world was weakened.

  The world shivered.

  It was the same unearthly movement-that-was-not-movement that Juliet had felt when Makari tried to open the gates of death. Her whole body was tensed up with pure and simple fear, the need to run or fight, but there was nothing to fight and nowhere to run, and she had stopped Makari.

  “Something’s happening.” Runajo licked her lips. She was very pale, and there was a strange emotion rolling off her in waves. It wasn’t exactly fear; it was too numb and sick and all-encompassing for that.

  “It’s the Ruining,” said Paris. “It’s getting closer.”

  “How can you tell?” Juliet demanded.

  Paris looked at them, and in this moment there was nothing awkward or hesitant about him, only a terrible, cold calm.

  “I’m still dead. Those he raised? Death still calls to us. It’s closer now. I can hear it.” His voice grew softer. “We’re going to rest soon.”

  Vai smacked the side of his head. “Not yet,” he said, and a very human half smile flickered across Paris’s face.

  Runajo said, “I have a plan.”

  22

  WHEN THEY FINALLY REACHED THE Exalted’s palace, it was the middle of the night. Runajo wasn’t at all sure that she and Juliet would even be allowed inside, let alone that Sunjai would come see them. But she had forgotten that not everyone followed the strict nighttime rituals of the Sisters. The palace lamps were alight, and as they were led to the receiving room, they heard music and laughter drifting down the hallways.

  Everyone said that the Exalted would amuse himself with dancing girls at the very edge of doom, and now it was true.

  After several minutes of waiting silently in the little receiving room, staring at the ivory whorls and curlicues sculpted into the wall and trying not to think about the way the revenants had hissed and screeched, the door swung open and Sunjai walked in. Her hair was loose from its braids, which meant she had probably been hauled out of bed, but she seemed awake enough.

  “Do you know, Lord Ineo was here earlier?” said Sunjai. “He seemed convinced you would have told me where you were taking the Juliet.”

  So they were already being hunted for. Runajo was not surprised; it was why Juliet had decided to come with her instead of going back to the Mahyanai compound.

  “Lord Ineo doesn’t matter now,” she said. “You’d better have finished your part of the calculations or we’re all dead.”

  In the moment of silence that followed, it occurred to Runajo that now was probably not the best time to antagonize Sunjai.

  On the other hand, Sunjai had already agreed to help Runajo even though she had never been anything but unpleasant to her.

  “Did something happen,” asked Sunjai, “or were you just reminding me of the situation? Because one of us has seen the Mouth of Death standing dry, and it wasn’t you.”

  “We found the necromancer and killed him,” said Juliet. “But he got too close to opening the gates of death. The dead are rising in moments. We think the walls are coming down.”

  “Which means we need the new walls up now,” said Runajo.

  “She means tomorrow,” said Juliet. “After the people from the Lower City get inside.”

  Sunjai raised her eyebrows. “That fast? It’s going to take some doing.”

  “We’ll do it,” said Runajo, horribly aware that they were not going to get everyone inside. A lot of people were going to die very soon, because they didn’t have enough time. But the only alternative was everyone dying.

  That had always been the way of Viyara.

  “We have a plan,” said Juliet. “Can you do your part?”

  “I never knew the sword of the Catresou was this talkative,” Sunjai said musingly, looking at Runajo.

  “Yes, well, none of you people know anything about the Catresou, do you?” said Juliet.

  Sunjai grinned. “I’ll wake Inyaan. We can start the preparations.”

  Juliet had given Paris two orders before they parted.

  “Help Vai spread the word,” she said. “And find Justiran’s daughter, if you can.”

  It wasn’t until halfway through their planning that they had realized she had slipped away. They had tried to find her at once, but without success. Runajo still believed that she might help them finally end the Ruining, and Juliet trusted Runajo; so as Paris and Vai ran through the streets,
he kept looking for the Little Lady, straining to sense any remaining hint of Makari’s power that might reveal her.

  But he caught no glimpse of her, and he was afraid that he would fail his duty again.

  “I think it’s her night to patrol this neighborhood,” said Vai, turning a corner. And there, learning against the wall by a fountain, Paris could see the shadowed form of Subcaptain Xu, the woman who had brought the City Guard to help them stop Lord Catresou.

  She had also helped stand guard at Lord Ineo’s sacrifices. Now that Paris’s mind was his own again, not continually shattering under the weight of Makari’s power, he could remember that.

  He didn’t want to ask her for help, but he knew they didn’t have a choice. And he had certainly shed more than enough Catresou blood himself.

  “How do you know her schedule?” he asked.

  “I’m clever,” said Vai. “Have to be.” And she strode forward, shoulders back, chin up.

  “Haven’t seen you in a while,” said Xu as they approached. Then her gaze fell on Paris. “I heard you were dead.”

  “It’s catching, but not always permanent,” said Vai. “And not important right now. A necromancer weakened the city walls before we could stop him, and the whole Lower City is going to be covered in the Ruining very soon. You’ve got to start an evacuation. There will be walls around the Upper City.”

  There was a short silence.

  “Really?” said Xu.

  “Well, to be honest, I don’t know the chances that the smaller walls will work,” said Vai. “But if they don’t, we’re all dead anyway, so it doesn’t much matter if you’ve wasted your time, does it?”

  “You’ve got proof of this?” asked Xu.

  In answer, Vai whipped out a knife and sliced a short, shallow line across Paris’s cheek.

  “He’s living dead now,” she said. “Listen to him.”

  Paris hadn’t had time to react to the cut. But now swift, cold dread pounded through his chest, because Xu belonged to the City Guard, and she would—she would—

  Part of him still wanted to die. Part of him always would. But the Juliet had given him orders. He had never thought that he would be lucky enough to serve her again. And he didn’t want to abandon Romeo or Vai, either.