The Gods of Vice

by Devin Madson

  “They die.”

  “You’ve seen that happen.”

  “Yes.” He’d been young, stubborn, and filled with the sort of assurance in the gods there was no arguing with. “And before you ask, yes, I honestly think if I tried what he’s doing, I would die too. I forced myself to be a different person to close myself off from the draw of my power. He is attacking himself.”

  She reached her hand out involuntarily, brushing my sleeve. “Then you had better promise me you’re not going to try it, Darius.”

  “You think me so willing to meet the gods?”

  “You were going to let my brother execute you.”

  “And you were going to let the Void kill you for disobeying.”

  Her grip closed on my arm. “We both had something to die for.”

  “Do we have something to live for now?” I thought of my mark in her skin and the only other person who’d ever carried one, their devotion to me unswerving. With every passing day, my fear grew, beginning to consume me.

  As though sensing the dark turn of my thoughts, Kimiko tilted her head and tightened her hold on my arm. “What is it?”

  Endymion had poured hate and abandonment into the mark Malice had made and broken its hold on him. It might not work if done from the outside, might cause her pain and wipe away all her love for me at a stroke and yet… Every day the decision to do the right thing. Beyond everything I had tried to teach Endymion, it all boiled down to choice.

  “I may be able to remove the mark I put on you.” She parted her lips, but I hurried on before she could speak. “I think it might work if I do what Endymion is attempting to do to himself—fill the mark with… things it hates.”

  “What do you mean things it hates? Is it alive?”

  “It’s me, a piece of me. Yes.”

  Kimiko lifted her hand to her heart. “And you what? Kill it?”

  “In a… soul destruction sense, yes, I suppose that’s essentially what I would be doing. Hitting it with all the things that make it weak so it shrivels away.”

  Her mouth twisted into a look of horror as back in the other room, Endymion splattered more bile into the bowl.

  “It’s only a theory,” I said when she made no answer. “I’ve never tried it before. It might not work, and even if it does, it might hurt. A lot. Or it might not. I really can’t be sure. I don’t—”

  She slid her hand down my arm to nestle her fingers amongst mine, and I could not bring myself to look at our joined hands or to tell her how much this could change if it worked. The words you might not love me anymore remained dammed behind my lips as much from pride as fear.

  “I understand.” She squeezed my hand. “But I would like you to try. I am very tough, you know.”

  The simple pride with which she spoke only made it harder to force a smile and tell myself this was the right thing to do. Choose to be good. It had been hard when the habits of selfishness ran so deep.

  “Do you want to try it now?” I said, letting go of her hand before I could not.

  “As long as he’ll be all right for a bit without us.” She looked over my shoulder, back along the passage to where Endymion still sat hunched over his sick bowl, groaning.

  “I’m sure he can go on vomiting in our absence, but…”

  “If I feel the urge to throw up, I promise to aim away from your feet. Should I lie down, do you think?”

  She moved to the divan without waiting for an answer, the same divan upon which I had so often curled as a child. I could not look at it without thinking of the first person I had marked and how much suffering it had caused. Oh, to have been born without a conscience like Malice, how much easier life would have been.

  Kimiko lay down, so much like someone awaiting a physician that I grimaced. Perhaps understanding, as she so often seemed to, she said, “It’s all right, I know you don’t want to hurt me.”

  “No.”

  I wanted to say more, but the words were trapped beneath a lump in my throat and would not come out. Fear urged me to walk away, constricting my chest and burning through my skin, but that was not the choice of a good man. For once the right thing to do was to use my Empathy.

  Before I could think better of my decision, I gripped her hand exactly as I had the night I overlaid Malice’s mark. Kimiko didn’t flinch, and licking my dry lips, I let out every emotion that made me weak, everything I had ever used my Empathy to fight against. The father who had never loved me. The illness that had made me frail. The lack of control I’d had over every moment of my life. Weak, unloved, forgotten. Just like I could be again if this worked.

  Kimiko had closed her eyes, but as all that darkness slid through my fingers, she opened them with a gasp and gripped my wrist, digging in her fingernails. But whatever their pain, the cuts in my skin were nothing to the pity in her eyes as she felt everything I fed her, everything I had feared, everything I had yearned for and been driven to best.

  Gritting her teeth, she looked away, and unable to feel how much it pained her, I could only trust she would stop me if it got too much.

  I had wondered if I would feel it, if Malice had felt Endymion destroy the piece of his soul, but there was no pain, only scratching doubts as I kept my hand upon hers. Sweat beaded her brow and she writhed at my touch, but just when I thought I could do it no longer I caught the flicker of her soul, like a voice at the very edge of my hearing. All but buried beneath the noise, it was a faint cry full of pain and fatigue and love, and all of it was draining, fading, dying.

  I ripped my hand away. Kimiko gasped, her eyelids fluttered, but there seemed to be no mark, no hurt, no pain. Just the lingering traces of my emotions and memories floating around like ash from a raging fire.

  Clenching my hands tightly, I stepped back and watched her sink into a deep sleep. She looked peaceful, and it was all I could do not to wake her. That it had worked on some level I could tell, but I would have to wait to learn my fate, to find out if there had been anything real behind her growing affection for me.

  Nothing good had ever come from my curse, but rather than let doubt rage, I went to check on Endymion. He was still slumped over his sick bowl. “Water,” he rasped, holding out a hand.

  I unhooked the scoop from the side of the water bucket and I drew half a cup. He took it, his shaking fingers sending water slopping onto the floor and down his robe. Only the final dregs made it to his mouth.

  The scoop clattered on the ground as he lunged for the bowl, bringing the water back up.

  “Did this ever happen to you?” he asked when his stomach stopped convulsing.

  “No.” I sat on the floor beside him. Moss was growing through cracks in the floor, and the room had the same musty smell as the rest of the house. I set my head against a rotten door frame. “No. I never tried to do what you’re doing. I think it would kill me if I did.”

  “But you survived the storm.” He spat into the bowl. “It’s working, Darius, I can feel everything… shrinking in.”

  “It was just a storm. I was only sickly until Maturation.”

  Everything had changed that night. Power had flooded through me, and I had thought myself invincible. The maze had burned, and there amid the smoke had stood Malice, awkward and unsure, despite the fine robe he had found for the occasion. There, the first and last time he had spoken his real name.

  Endymion sat back on his heels, wiping his mouth with his filthy sleeve. “When did Malice have his Maturation?”

  “That isn’t my story to tell,” I said.

  “He won’t tell me.”

  “Then you must accept that you will never know the answer.”

  His narrowed eyes scanned my face with the same ferocity his Empathy had once scanned my thoughts. “Why do you keep his secrets?”

  “Because I do.”

  “Because you love him.”

  I sighed. “You know, if I wanted to spend the night with my thoughts, I could do so without your help.”

  “He’s still coming, Darius.
You should leave before he gets here. We all should.”

  “No. I already told you I will not run.”

  His Empathy came at me like reaching fingers, its first gentle touch growing stronger as he hunted. I swatted the air. “It’s amazing how heavy-handed you are.”

  The change was instantaneous, and Endymion gripped the foul-smelling bowl. Nothing came up, not even bile, yet still he retched. His body would not stop fighting, not stop trying to rid itself of the plague, the Void, that inhabited his skin.

  There was nothing I could do to help. It would either work or it wouldn’t, and while it was too early to be sure, I had my doubts.

  “What will happen when Malice comes?” he asked, sitting up again and continuing the conversation as though it had never been interrupted.

  “I don’t know yet,” I replied, thoughts sliding back along the passage to where Kimiko lay unmarked. That I had succeeded at something I’d long thought impossible strengthened my resolve to stay, yet I couldn’t but flinch at the memory of his blade sliding between my ribs the last time I’d tried to leave him.

  Eventually, Endymion subsided into a stertorous sleep with his cheek mashed against his arm, and leaving him to rest, I went back to Kimiko. She lay dozing as I had left her, and feeling like a nurse with two patients, I settled down at her side and watched her sleep, until at last, I too fell into a doze beside the divan.

  I woke to someone’s hand on my hair and sat up to find her watching me. “How peaceful you look when you’re sleeping,” she said, letting her hand fall back at her side.

  “Even with my cheek all smushed and—” I pinched a hair from the tip of my tongue. “And furs in my mouth.”

  “Yes, because you didn’t know either of those things so you weren’t scowling.”

  Pulling another hair off my lip, I said, “Really? Is that so? And how are you feeling this… morning?” And it was indeed morning. Faint dawn light eked in around the shutters.

  “Fine.”

  “No… different?”

  She frowned, and with a brief burst of her deep sadness, she passed her hand through the wall. “No? I still have that, I see. Is that normal? Ought I to feel different?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never unmarked anyone before.” I had been so sure I could feel the love and life and soul draining out of her as I killed the mark, yet she was smiling at me as though nothing had changed, and I allowed myself a moment of hope. Hope that I really was capable of being a good man even with the Sight.

  “We should hire a cook,” I said. “And fix the kitchens. I’m hungry and sick of rice and salted fish.”

  “Some fruit came yesterday.”

  “Did it? We still need a cook.”

  Kimiko’s frown deepened. “I’ve been saying that every day since we arrived. Are you all right, Darius?”

  “Never better, my dear. I think I’ll send for Monomoro today, and—”

  A distant shout echoed through the house. My heart jolted with the fear it could be Malice, but turning my ear toward the door, I caught the gruff syllables of my full name. Not Malice—at least not yet.

  “Hold that thought,” I said. “That sounds like our messenger. I’ll be back in a moment.”

  I strode out along the passage, glancing in at Endymion as I passed his room. He was still asleep, curled around his sick bowl, and hoping he would rest a while yet, I went in search of the voice. The repeated shouts led me not to the portico like I had thought but toward the main doors. An imperial messenger stood in the decrepit hall, wearing exactly the uniform in which I had hidden Shin. I froze. I knew most of Kin’s military messengers by sight, but not this one, yet there was no mistaking the lines marked out on his sash. I had dared not hope Kin would reply.

  “Lord Darius Laroth?”

  “That’s me,” I said. “You have a message for me?”

  The man pulled a scroll from his satchel and held it out. “I’m to await a reply. A yes or no will suffice.”

  My fingers shook as I broke the imperial seal and unrolled the short scroll.

  D,

  I have received yours and accept your offer to meet. We are camped in lee of the spur south-east of the village of Airima, and I will expect you in the early hours so no one sees you coming or going. Destroy this message immediately and do not fail me, old friend.

  K

  I did not even have to think for an answer. He wanted me back. I had proved myself loyal. I could take him the crown and be officially the minister of the left, and never again would Malice have any hold over me.

  “Yes.”

  “You have memorised the contents?”

  “Yes.”

  The man drew flint and tinder from his satchel and, lighting the tinder with an expert flick, set its flame to the scroll. I pinched the corner and watched as fire ate Kin’s message, but though it consumed his words, it could not consume their meaning.

  I dropped the last scrap on the floor before the flames reached my fingers and stomped it out. The messenger bowed. “Your Excellency,” he said and was gone.

  Kimiko was still lying on the divan when I returned, her welcoming smile adding to the joy humming through me. It was a joy I was sure I did not deserve, but I would take it with both hands and run before the gods realised their mistake.

  “I’m afraid Monomoro and the kitchens will have to wait until tomorrow, or the next day. I have been summoned by His Majesty.”

  She froze in the act of reaching her hand to my cheek. “Summoned?”

  “He is camped near Airima, which isn’t far from here. I must go meet him tonight and take the crown. He wants me to be his minister again.”

  “That’s wonderful!” she said, and perhaps I ought to have heard the brittle note in her tone, ought to have caught the flash of fear there and gone, but she was up in a flurry of furs and making for the hot stone. “Let me make some tea while you sit and plan.”

  “There is not all that much to plan,” I said. “But I ought to gather my papers.”

  Once again, I crept out past the still-dozing Endymion, this time all the way to the portico. My scribe had not yet arrived, and making a mental note to tell Kimiko or Endymion to send him home when he did, I gathered up all the maps and papers I might need. By the time I returned, Kimiko had water boiling and was just pouring it into the pot. The rising steam was cut off abruptly as she dropped the lid on.

  I sat on the divan and rolled the papers up, making an easy bundle to carry on horseback.

  “That’s a lot to take with you.”

  “Katashi moves around a lot,” I said, setting the bundle aside. “He thinks he’s very clever, but I know where he is.”

  I took the proffered tea bowl from her hands and, blowing off some of the steam, set it to my lips. It was hot, but that was all that could be said for it. I really ought to get fresh tea sent up. Another sip made me shudder. “We really need new tea.”

  “I think I let it brew rather too long,” she said, taking a gulp of her own. “It’s very bitter. I’m afraid I make a poor housekeeper.”

  “It’s a good thing I don’t want you to be my housekeeper then.”

  She must have caught the weight of meaning in my tone, for her eyes widened. “Would you have me leave instead?” she said, a mixture of aching hope and heart-thumping anxiety bleeding beneath the door of her heart.

  “No.” I hadn’t meant to speak of it, not yet, couldn’t be sure it was even safe, yet the warmth of the tea and the room and the scent of her all over me were making my head fuzzy. I swallowed a mouthful of the vile tea just to wet my lips. “I want to try to build a real life here. A normal life. Fix the house up. Be a good landlord. Give… parties. Is that something normal people do?”

  Kimiko gave a watery chuckle. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. Just drink up your tea.”

  I took a mouthful, and it sent another shudder through me, so bitterly had it steeped. “No, you’re right,” I said, my heart hammering so hard I could feel my pulse in my th
roat. “That’s not even what I wanted to say, what I wanted to say was—”

  “Don’t.”

  I blinked at her. The room seemed to be spinning, but all I could see were the tears in her eyes. “Why?”

  “Because I’m afraid of my answer.”

  “You don’t…” I felt drunk and sweat prickled my skin. “You don’t want to marry me?”

  Kimiko cupped her hands around mine, both of us holding my tea bowl. “Drink up,” she said, and too hazy to resist, I let her tip the last of the tea into my mouth. I couldn’t even taste it. Couldn’t feel it. Tears ran down her cheeks, but everything was getting dark and bleary and I could not focus on them. “Darius,” she said, tilting her head to look right into my eyes. “I think I would like that. A lot. And if you ever forgive me for this, then maybe…” She wiped one cheek with the back of her hand, and I tried to wipe the other, to ask what I had to forgive her for, but I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move.

  “I’m sorry,” she said as the tea bowl slipped from my lifeless hands and smashed upon the floor. “I can’t let you destroy my brother, not after everything we have been through, not after what Kin made our lives. Don’t worry, it’s just the end of the borabark Malice gave me. You’ll sleep and then you’ll be fine. I’m sorry.”

  Malice. He was coming. Would be here soon. I tried to tell her, but my lips would not move, not even to voice the fear that rang shrill in my head.

  She pressed her lips to mine, but I could not kiss her back, could not scream though fresh panic went on filling my thoughts. I tried to beg her not to do this, tried to beg her to listen, but I could only stare at her tear-filled eyes and think of Malice finding me asleep and Kin walking into a trap I had not meant to lay for him.

  Sleep crept upon me like thousands of ants crawling up my skin. I tried to fight it back, to swat at the darkness, but soon all I could feel was the gentle touch of her lips. Then nothing at all.

  Chapter 18

  Endymion

  Kimiko shook me awake and I immediately lurched for the bowl, dry-retching into it until the spasms died down.