The Gods of Vice

by Devin Madson

  With a constricted smile, he put his left hand upon my shoulder. “You are welcome to stay, Takehiko,” he said, “but—”

  The sudden intent was like a pinprick in the world of whispers. He moved quickly, the point of the dagger touching my side as I gripped his throat with my bare hand, skin on skin. “No,” I said, looking into those dark eyes. “Empaths are never welcome.”

  For what seemed like a long time, he said nothing, the point of the knife not shifting. And while he did not move, I forced nothing through, not even connection. I did not need it anymore.

  A smile flashed across Kin’s face. “You’re quick,” he said.

  “I can read you.”

  “And what do you see upon my pages?”

  The whispers came to me, insistent, forcing their way into my head.

  Justice.

  “Katashi was wrong about you,” I said, feeling the pulse throb in his neck. “I don’t think he knows what I do. He cannot see what I see.”

  “No?”

  “No, but you love Hana. That is no lie.”

  There, a twisted little smile. “No, that is no lie.”

  “And she respects you, but she won’t understand. I can see your every thought and feeling and memory as though it were my own. I understand you, but she never will.”

  “If you understand me so well, then you know why I have a knife in my hand.”

  “I do, but I know you are aware of my ability. I am stronger than either Malice or Darius, and what I could do to your mind could be done in an instant if you plunge that knife into my gut. You might, of course, retain just enough sanity to retaliate, however, so perhaps we are better off making a deal rather than a mess.”

  The knife did not budge. “And what do you propose, Lord Otako?”

  “That you let me leave. Your secret will be safe and no one will have to clean us up.”

  “And where do you go?”

  “To Darius.”

  “I would be better off gutting you where you stand,” he said. “I know what you two did that night in Koi. Together, you are more dangerous than apart. Together, you can take my throne.”

  “Yes,” I admitted. “But I already told you that I am no rebel. If I wanted you dead, I could have killed you a hundred times by now and so could he. I don’t want the Crimson Throne. I might have been born Takehiko Otako, but I’m a Laroth. I’m a god.”

  Emperor Kin’s lips pressed into a thin line. Outside, soldiers continued with their work, the noise unceasing. “A god?”

  Justice.

  “There are four guards standing in front of your tent and six behind. One hundred and twenty men in your camp here. Three thousand eight hundred and ninety-one back near Esvar. Twenty-six scouts and travellers in the Neck. Thirty thousand nine hundred and sixty-four people in the Valley. One million three hundred and eighteen thousand and five souls in your empire. And I know your secret. I am a god and I do what is right. At this very moment, what is right is saving my brother from himself if I can and killing him if I cannot.”

  He no longer held the knife with such certainty, those dark eyes leaping around my face. “And what then?”

  “Then I will kill Malice. And myself.”

  “And I am to believe that? If I let you walk out of here, I will regret it.”

  “If you don’t, you will not live to regret anything.”

  His frustration burned like a fire between us. “Your brother betrayed me. Tell me why I should trust you to do what you say rather than join him.”

  “Because I don’t lie. And because I am the only one who will never hate you for killing my mother. It might have been Shin Metai’s hand, but they were your orders, Your Majesty. A single order and a palace full of Otakos lay dead.”

  “Except for you.”

  “Except for me. And Hana. But it was Nyraek Laroth who made sure of that, not you.”

  Kin took a step back, withdrawing the knife. I let my hand fall from his neck. “You loved my mother,” I said. “And that was the hardest of all.”

  “We all make hard choices.” The words were clipped, harsh.

  “Don’t tell Hana.”

  “No,” he said, sliding the knife back into a leather slip beneath his surcoat. “Better to live with my guilt than inflict that pain upon her.”

  “Then, Your Majesty, I think we are in accord. I, Takehiko Otako, hereby renounce my claim to the Crimson Throne in favour of Emperor Kin Ts’ai, first of his name. Darius once told me you were the only man who could rule Kisia, and I hope he was right. Goodbye, Your Majesty.” I bowed deeply and strode toward the tent opening.

  He did not stop me.

  As I stepped into the last of the evening light, the smell of reed matting and incense gave way to the frantic scents of a dying summer. From their places, Kin’s guards watched me, awaiting an order that never came.

  Thunder sounded in the distance. The storms were coming. They would hit Kisia hard, but this year, the swollen rivers would run red with blood.

  One million three hundred and seventeen thousand nine hundred and fifty-six souls in the empire, and if Katashi marched on as Vengeance personified, that number would keep falling.

  Yet for now, the only number that mattered was two.

  Two brothers.

  Two gods.

  But Justice comes to everyone, even gods.

  Acknowledgements

  Unlike for the other two books in this trilogy, it appears that I never wrote acknowledgements for this one when it was originally published. This is a shame, since I had a lot of fun editing the other ones for everyone’s amusement and will now have to do this the traditionally boring way.

  This book is very different to its originally published version, and though plenty of thanks for that can go to my wonderful and ever-patient editor at Orbit, Nivia Evans, I think she got rather more changes than she bargained for. And for letting me so drastically alter the contents of this book without batting an eyelash, I must thank her a second time. Her faith in my ability to take it apart and put it back together again in a way that was both still true to the whole story and would make it a far better book never wavered. Or at least if it did, she never let me know it.

  Thanks must also go to Emily Byron, my editor at Orbit UK; my brilliant copy editor who stops me looking very silly, Maya Frank-Levine; and Amanda J. Spedding, the first editor to ever get her hands on this book so many years ago that I feel old now. Double thank you for also being a truly remarkable friend, ever-present and compassionate no matter what; you’re a gem, Mandy. (She’s going to hate that, so I’ll leave it in to see if she reads this far.)

  Moving on, a massive thank you to Gregory Titus for the beautiful cover art that adorns these editions, and to Lisa Marie Pompilio for her always so stunning design work. And of course a big thank you to Ellen Wright and Angela Man, publicity duo extraordinaire. In fact to everyone who works behind the scenes at Orbit, making this such a wonderful company to be with, thank you.

  To quickly finish off, I must add the usual suspects, the people without whom I would struggle to do this job, or remember to eat when on deadline, or shower, or… talk to humans. Firstly my supportive parents, who took me to the library at a young age and let me get away with sneaking out of bed to read in the middle of the night. Secondly my partner, Chris, for uncomplainingly picking up all the slack I drop (and while rewriting this book it was A LOT of slack) when hard up against deadlines. You are a treasure, a rare, utterly kind human, and I couldn’t imagine life without you, so thank you. Thirdly all the members of my Discord families—you all know who you are. Whether it’s celebrating or commiserating or just making crass jokes about penises, you are always there for me, always present, and I love you.

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br />   DEVIN MADSON is an Aurealis Award–winning fantasy author from Australia. After some sucky teenage years, she gave up reality and is now a dual-wielding rogue who works through every tiny side-quest and always ends up too over-powered for the final boss. Anything but Zen, Devin subsists on tea and chocolate and so much fried zucchini she ought to have turned into one by now. Her fantasy novels come in all shades of grey and are populated with characters of questionable morals and a liking for witty banter.

  Find out more about Devin Madson and other Orbit authors by registering for the free monthly newsletter at www.orbitbooks.net.

  if you enjoyed

  THE GODS OF VICE

  look out for

  THE GRAVE AT STORM’S END

  The Vengeance Trilogy: Book Three

  by

  Devin Madson

  Vengeance has come.

  Katashi Otako walks with the Vices, burning everything in his path. Now the spirit of Vengeance, he will stop at nothing to destroy Emperor Kin and take the Crimson Throne.

  The empire is facing its greatest threat, and with Darius controlling Katashi from the shadows, Emperor Kin finds his every move pre-empted. Out of options, Kin and Hana must marry in secret to secure the support they need, but the ceremony takes seven days, and seven days can change the world.

  As the flames of vengeance engulf Kisia, Hana will have to fight for the right to defend her empire. A ruler must do what is necessary, but no choice is easy when the enemy is the man she once loved and the guardian she once trusted.

  When gods fight, empires fall.

  Chapter 1

  Hana

  In darkness we waited. Silent. Tense. A group of imperial guards on the east bank of the Nuord River, watching for the flash of a lantern.

  It was a starless night, and under layers of leather and mail, I carried my weight in sweat. Especially beneath my helmet where my hair stuck sodden to my head, but how else could one hide blonde curls? No one can know, Kin had said. You’re just another soldier.

  Beside me, General Ryoji shifted his weight. He was little but an outline in the darkness, yet the blended scent of leather and sweat and cedar oil was impossible to mistake. There were traces of Katashi in that smell, and I wavered between wanting to move away and draw closer, fighting with my own instincts. My own memories.

  The general shifted again, letting out a short huff of air. We had been waiting too long.

  On my other side, a whisper warmed my ear. “Are you all right, my lady?”

  Tili’s voice trembled. General Ryoji had cautioned against her involvement as he had cautioned against the entire mission, but tradition dictated the presence of another woman, so another woman there would be. Kin would risk no mistake.

  I nodded. “You?”

  Despite the darkness, I was sure she nodded back, but when I felt for her hand, I found it tightly clenched and shaking. I squeezed it and wondered how much more strongly an Empath could feel her fear.

  For weeks, there had been nothing but bad news. First, we had lost Risian. Then Lotan. News no longer arrived from the north, and heavy losses stalked the heels of every victory like a plague we could not shake. We held Kogahaera, but only thanks to the Nuord River, its roar even now cutting the silence of an oppressive night.

  “We need to move,” Kin said in a low rumble.

  “There’s been no signal, Majesty,” General Ryoji returned.

  “If they’re dead, they can’t signal.”

  “If they’re dead, we should turn back.”

  General Ryoji seemed to hold his breath, statue-still as he waited for a reply to such brazen honesty.

  “It’s too late for that,” Kin said. “We go to Kuroshima without them.”

  The general bowed, and again I wondered what Malice or Darius might read in his rigidity that I could not. More than fear? More than the ill ease of a man ordered to act against his better judgement?

  “Ji. Tanner,” Ryoji said, speaking over my shoulder. “Stay with… her.”

  “General,” I began. “I am armed and quite capable—”

  “Yes, my lady, but they have their orders.”

  Ji and Tanner filled the space he left behind. They were often with me, but though I knew their names and their faces, I trusted neither the way I had come to trust Ryoji—the ever-present sentinel who had saved me from the pit a lifetime ago, whose loyalty to Kin seemed to know no bounds.

  We started to move, and Tili remained pressed to my side as we climbed the gentle curve of the bridge. At the peak, my sandal caught an uneven stone, but the press of soldiers was so close I could not fall, could only jog on as we descended into enemy territory—Otako territory. For years I had carried the name with pride, but tonight I would give it up to become Kin’s wife—Kin’s empress.

  I had always dreamed of sitting on my father’s throne, always dreamed of ruling. Tonight that dream would come true, but it was a very different wedding to the one I had planned when I had asked Katashi to marry me. Fate had allowed me mere hours of such a joy—a joy so great the world had seemed to break beneath the strain of it.

  Perhaps hearing my trembling breath, Tili pressed closer, but although she hampered my movement, I could not push her away. Her presence was the only comfort left.

  We slowed as we gained the far bank. Ahead, light flickered through the dense shield of soldiers as it might through trees, glinting off buckles and patches of leather worn shiny with use.

  “Spread out.”

  Drawing weapons, they fanned out.

  “No, not you, my lady,” General Ryoji said, once more appearing beside me.

  “How can we maintain the ruse if I do not do my job?” I said.

  “This is not your job, my lady, but keeping you safe is mine.”

  Again a hint of Katashi’s scent—some oil perhaps, or just a cruel trick of memory—and though Ryoji could not have seen my expression in the darkness, I turned my face away. Ahead with his own escort, Emperor Kin led the way toward Kuroshima village.

  It lay about a mile from the river, a gathering of small houses in the lee of the mountain. At this hour, they were shadowed and silent, the only light a lantern at the base of the climb that led to Kisia’s oldest shrine. There, two men in priest’s white were waiting beneath an arbour of becalmed leaves.

  Leaving me with Ji and Tanner, General Ryoji hurried to join Kin, his hand as close to his sword as could be considered polite in the company of priests. I made to join them, but Tanner blocked my way with his arm. There was tension in every line of his body and his eyes darted, watching the soldiers move about the silent village. Without lanterns, the distant buildings melded into the trees. Dark. Lifeless.

  Tili huddled closer still, as though I were a fire by which she could warm herself. Seconds dragged by, until at last General Ryoji made a sign, and Tanner lowered his arm. “My lady,” he said and bowed.

  Tili and I joined them at the base of the mountain. Other soldiers gathered.

  “What’s going on?” I hissed at General Ryoji. “What of our scouts?”

  He glanced at the two priests. “It seems they never arrived.”

  “But they were experienced soldiers.”

  “Yes, my lady,” he said.

  “They can’t have just gone missing.”

  The general pulled at his bottom lip for a troubled instant. “No, my lady.”

  “It’s quiet. Is the village empty?”

  “All but, like we expected. The war is too close. Even at the base of the old mountain, no one is safe.”

  “We are not alone here, General, the risk—”

  “The risk of being attacked while retreating is just as high, my lady,” General Ryoji said, and I wondered if they were Kin’s words. “With none of the benefits of success. We go up.”

  He moved on with a nod not a bow, maintaining the pretence that I was a mere soldier. I liked the informality, taking what small joys I could in being treated, for once, like just another man.

&n
bsp; A flotilla of paper lanterns spread light through the group, and I took one, thinking of another time I had gathered in the dark with a group of men in imperial uniforms.

  No, don’t think about Katashi.

  I edged toward Kin. “It worries me that the scouts have not been seen,” I whispered. “We should leave.”

  “No, we proceed as planned, a group on each branch of the stairs just as tradition dictates.”

  “Are you sure it’s wise?”

  He grimaced at me. “I am sure that anyone who wanted us dead could have killed us by now. Take what comfort from that as you will.”

  “Very little!”

  “We have no choice. We have to do this right or risk losing all legitimacy.”

  He was right, but I hated it. Hated the silence and the darkness, the still press of the air and the nervous looks of the soldiers. Hated to have found myself here at all.

  No, don’t think about Katashi.

  General Ryoji ordered half the men to remain behind and split the other half into two groups, one to accompany His Majesty up the right branch of the stairs, the other up the left branch with me, braving all one thousand four hundred and forty-four steps to the Kuroshima Shrine.

  The forest into which we climbed was thick and dark, our winking lanterns the only stars, our steps and huffing breaths the only sounds. One thousand four hundred and forty-four stairs, one for every day the goddess Lunyia had waited for her husband. She, the goddess of loyalty and fortune, to whom all Kisians prayed upon their marriage. I counted them to give me something to think about other than what awaited me at the top.