Empire of Rust

by Chambers, V. J.

  Darius didn’t like that. He wasn’t sure that he liked Simon much at all. Briefly, he fantasized about calling forth the revenants that were following them. There was a large mass of them, and more awoke and came all the time. They were drawn to him for some reason. Simon said it was good, because they needed as many revenants as possible to attack the city. But Darius thought they’d do just as good a job at ripping Simon to shreds and freeing Darius from his chains.

  But he didn’t call them, and he didn’t kill Simon. He was hesitant to cross that final boundary to murder. He’d never killed a man before, and he was frightened of what might happen if he did now, especially since he hungered so strongly.

  Simon was still talking. “You’ll be given a woman to marry. She’ll be one of the nobles these days. Used to be that we used common wenches for such things, but not anymore. When I was last there, the chosen necromancer’s intended was Bethany of Virgy. You’ll like her. She’s pretty enough, and she’s quiet. Women who chatter too much set my teeth on edge.”

  Marry? “But, sir,” said Darius, “if I were to be married to a woman, then…” Well, he’d have to… He wasn’t even sure if that part of his body worked anymore. And then he was horrified to think that he hadn’t wondered about this before. Just weeks ago, that body part was more important to him that near anything on earth. And now, he was convinced that it was as dead as the rest of his body.

  “If you don’t kill her on the wedding night, you pass the test,” said Simon, glancing over at Darius. “That won’t be a problem, will it?”

  A cold chill rushed over Darius’s spine. He pictured a naked woman cringing from him, all of her flesh exposed. Just the thought of it made him salivate. If he were alone with a woman, the desire to… to taste her—

  And at that moment, he realized that his body wasn’t dead between his legs at all. No, the thought of his mouth on a pale sloping breast, his teeth…

  He grimaced.

  “I’m counting on you,” said Simon. “You can’t let me down. If you fail this test, I’ll have to start all over again. I can’t do that. You’re the third bitten commoner that I’ve tried with. None of the others survived the transformation. It will take ages to get back to this point again.”

  Darius swallowed. “I… I can’t be sure, sir. You don’t understand the way that I—”

  “If you fail the test, you’ll be killed,” said Simon. “That motivation enough for you?”

  Darius peered up at the morning sky. In so many ways, he was already dead.

  * * *

  Leah didn’t get visitors in her wing in the mansion. Servants came and went, but other than that, she was alone. It was not the way she had pictured things when she’d agreed to marry the emperor’s son. To make matters even worse, she’d just begun to experience sickness from her pregnancy. She wasn’t vomiting, at least not yet, but she did feel vaguely nauseated at all times except when she was eating. That meant she was eating a lot. If she kept it up, her belly was certainly going to grow, but she doubted the child inside her would be the culprit.

  That morning, she was lounging in one of her sitting rooms, eating nuts. The servants had been employed in cracking and shelling them for her enormous appetite, and it still seemed there were never enough. Her stomach felt unpleasantly full, but the minute she stopped stuffing her face, she was certain she’d vomit all over everything. So, she kept eating.

  To her surprise, she had visitors.

  It was her husband. She hadn’t seen Gabriel since he’d promised that he’d let her explore the castle and have luncheons with the other noblewomen, something she’d desperately wanted before the nausea had begun. Now, she didn’t want to go anywhere or see anyone.

  That regent’s son from Caroly was with him, the one whose sister was dead. Well, the sister was actually a revenant, so Leah wasn’t sure if that meant the girl was dead or not. Certainly, she wasn’t alive, but then she wasn’t exactly dead either, now was she? Still, it wasn’t common knowledge that the girl was a revenant, so she wasn’t going to mention that to either of her visitors.

  She’d told Gabriel about the secret room under the mansion, so there was a slim chance he’d found his way down there and uncovered the secret, but she didn’t know if he was actually that clever or resourceful. Thus far, what she’d seen of Gabriel had not exactly been impressive.

  Gabriel and the regent’s son—he was Ezekiel, she remembered—made themselves comfortable on couches on either side of her.

  “Hello there, Leah. We need to talk,” said Gabriel.

  Leah raised her eyebrows and stuffed more nuts in her mouth. She chewed. Gabriel was trying to appear serious and intimidating, but he was awful at it. He wasn’t going to be an emperor who was feared by the people, was he? Of course, it was likely he wouldn’t be emperor at all, she supposed. The others had left the capital, but that didn’t mean they’d given up. They had their plans for the empire, and Leah agreed with them. Leah swallowed. “Hello there, husband. So nice to see you.”

  “We just need to ask you a few questions,” said Gabriel.

  Ezekiel held up a hand. “Why don’t you let me handle this?”

  “Well, she’s my wife,” said Gabriel.

  Ezekiel rolled his eyes.

  Leah snickered. “Look at the two of you. Bickering like a couple who’s been together for years.” She stuffed more nuts into her mouth.

  Ezekiel stiffened. “What has he told you about me?”

  Leah chewed.

  “I assure you,” said Ezekiel, “whatever lies he has spread about me, they are false. I am in no way part of a… couple with him.”

  “Don’t worry,” said Leah. “Gabriel said nothing. I guessed.” She leaned forward. “I really don’t care if the two of you are buggering each other’s assholes. I assume that’s not what you came to talk to me about.”

  Ezekiel’s face had turned red. “How dare you?” His voice was quiet but menacing.

  Leah rolled her eyes and put more nuts in her mouth.

  Ezekiel took a deep breath. He got up from the couch and smoothed out his clothes.

  “Oh, heavens, she didn’t mean anything by it, Ezekiel,” said Gabriel. “She’s of common blood. She doesn’t know not to be vulgar.”

  Leah was still chewing, so all she could do was glare at Gabriel. She wasn’t being tasteless. If Gabriel had any sense, he’d see that she was simply illustrating how little she respected him. But he was an idiot. He didn’t understand, and he underestimated her.

  Ezekiel wandered around behind the couch, running his fingers over it. “We aren’t here to discuss myself or Gabriel. We’re here to talk about what you know and how you know it.”

  Leah swallowed the nuts. “What are you talking about?” This Ezekiel was a little bit less clueless than Gabriel. She’d have to watch herself more closely.

  Ezekiel paused, fingering the brocade on the couch. “You told Gabriel about a secret room next to the dungeon. How did you know about it?”

  Oh. Well, this wasn’t going to go well, was it? She’d tried to be so careful when revealing that piece of information, careful not to cast suspicion on herself, but maybe she hadn’t done a very good job. “The servants told me about it.”

  “They did?” said Ezekiel.

  She nodded.

  “And they also told you that the emperor was the only one with the key?”

  “Yes.”

  “How did they know this information?” said Ezekiel.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Which servant told you?”

  “It wasn’t just one,” she said. “There were several.”

  “Well, then, which ones?”

  She pursed her lips. “I really can’t remember specifically, sorry.”

  Ezekiel raised his gaze to hers. “Think harder. We need to speak to them.”

  Oh, wait. They don’t suspect me. Not yet, anyway. She smiled and put more nuts in her mouth. She chewed.

  Ezekiel wat
ched.

  She chewed some more. Well, this was a problem, though, because she hadn’t heard the story from any servants and there wasn’t anyone to send them off to. But she could tell that Ezekiel wasn’t going to let this go. He’d probably found his sister after all, and he was out to find out how she’d been turned. She kept chewing.

  “Do you have to keep eating those?” said Gabriel, looking annoyed.

  She swallowed and turned on him. “Actually, I do. Whenever I stop eating, I feel sick to my stomach. This is the only thing that gives me relief.”

  “Sick,” said Ezekiel. “Because of the child.”

  She nodded. “That’s right.”

  “Fairly convenient for you, this situation,” said Ezekiel. “You and your child are saved from exile and you get to live here in the mansion in luxury. One would think you’d be more grateful towards Gabriel.”

  “I’m grateful,” she said.

  “She is,” said Gabriel. “Don’t pick on her, Ezekiel. She’s been through a lot.”

  Ezekiel nodded slowly. “Oh, indeed, I’m sure she has.”

  “Her lover abandoned her when he heard the news,” said Gabriel. “I found her on the outskirts of town, gathering herbs to try to put an end to the infant. That’s how desperate she was.”

  Leah looked away. She had been at the end of her rope when Gabriel found her. It was true that her child’s father was gone, but he’d never known about the baby. She hadn’t had a chance to tell him. She’d tried to get close, to tell him, but she’d failed. That night, the revenants had surged up from the depths of the mansion, and she’d been cut off.

  “Well, everything seems to have worked out, though, hasn’t it?” said Ezekiel. “You still haven’t told me which servants gave you the information.”

  “I can’t tell you that,” she said. “I don’t remember.”

  Ezekiel walked back around the couch. He advanced on her. “The servants didn’t tell you, did they?”

  “Yes,” she said. “They did.” How did he know otherwise? Was it because she’d been thinking about it, thinking about that night? She remembered running from the revenants, the noblewoman who was Ezekiel’s sister behind her with her servants. They were all screaming. Then the revenants tackled that girl, sinking their teeth into her neck. Leah looked back to see the door they’d come through, saw the emperor there, wringing his hands. Saw the key glittering in the lock. The emperor had released the revenants to stop the escape, but he’d failed. He’d only hurt his own.

  “I think there’s more to this than you’re telling us, Leah,” said Ezekiel. “How did you know about the secret room? Why did you tell Gabriel about it? Why are you in this mansion? Who is the father of your child?”

  Leah pressed her lips together. She’d never give up Nathaniel. Never.

  * * *

  Nathaniel sat on the edge of the wall and stared out at the ruined city. It was ancient, a tangle of vines and rust and rubble. When he sat here, he sometimes tried to imagine what it might have looked like hundreds of years ago, before the Scourge. It was impossible to know, because most of the buildings had fallen, been eroded by the wind and rain, been overtaken by the growth of trees and plants. It was all crumbled and broken down. But it was the closest thing he had to any information about that time period, this city and others like it.

  After the Scourge, the large cities had been crawling with revenants. Most of them had been considered too dangerous to attempt to clear out. So the newly formed empire had simply built its walls outside the cities, closing them off.

  No one had ever gone back there.

  Nathaniel thought about it sometimes. He could do it now. He could just jump down off the wall and land down on the other side. He peered down, and the ground looked the same over there as it did on his side of the wall. This place was so lightly traveled that the revenants were probably all dormant, lying unmoving for years on end. They might wake when they smelled him, he supposed.

  But maybe he’d have a head start. Maybe he could run across the field of wild grasses and find himself on the old, cracked streets of the city before they could even start moving. Maybe he’d have a chance to explore. And maybe he’d find something useful, something that could help him connect all the mysteries of how things worked back then. Maybe he’d find the one thing that would bridge his knowledge to their knowledge.

  The things he did with sparks and light—the others called it magic. He let them. He did it for show in their traveling performances, allowing the audiences to clap for Nathaniel the Magnificent. He did some other tricks as well. Sleight of hand, a few tricks with playing cards—even though the holy men claimed such things were of the devil. He could do forbidden things, you see. He was a gypsy, a bastard born and raised in the wild. Everyone knew that bastards had no morals. How could they, without the guidance of a family unit?

  Nathaniel snorted softly. The people in the villages, the holy men, would never understand how tightly linked his family unit had been growing up. He hadn’t been bound only to parents and siblings, but to a vast network of travelers. Certainly, some of them were unsavory types—exiled thieves and criminals. But they were all loyal to each other. It was them against the whole, wide world.

  Sometimes, Nathaniel missed the simplicity of that group, of being nothing more than a traveling performer.

  Now, his “magic” was only a cover for his true intentions. He was a revolutionary, and he was dead set on toppling the empire. His entire traveling company might have appeared to be an innocuous group of singers and jugglers and players. But beneath that appearance, their true intentions were rebellion.

  That was why the performance at the emperor’s mansion had been so important. They needed to get into that mansion, to get a lay of the land and to see how things worked there. Sure, they’d gotten arrested and thrown in the dungeon, but that was no matter. They had friends who’d freed them. And sure, they were in hiding in the wilderness now, but that was no different than the way things normally were for them. They lived their lives on the run.

  Still, Nathaniel couldn’t stop staring out at the ruined city.

  It was something the emperor’s son had said. He’d told him that there was a name for the sparks he made. Electricity, said the emperor’s son. And he told him that before the Scourge, it was sent through wires crisscrossing the whole land, and that it brought light and heat and cooling power right into the homes of each and every member of that society. Even the poor had electricity, said the emperor’s son. And he also said that, before the Scourge, bastards weren’t exiled. And that when he was the emperor, he wanted Nathaniel to come back to the city, and he wanted to work with him. He said that he’d been doing experiments with electricity, and that together, they could do more, and that they could find some way to start bringing it back to the empire.

  Call me Gabriel, the emperor’s son had said. And he’d smiled.

  And then, of course, they’d all been thrown in the dungeon.

  But Gabriel had visited him there, and he’d been so apologetic, promising to try to find a way to help however he could.

  It bothered Nathaniel, because the emperor’s son didn’t behave the way he thought the nobles should. And when he thought of the world that Gabriel could make as the emperor, a land where people studied electricity… well, he couldn’t help but wonder if that world wouldn’t be better than one ripped apart by a revolutionary war.

  He knew war was a ways off. His band of rebels didn’t have the men or the power. But they were planting the seeds. Everywhere they went, they stirred up the unrest.

  The truth was that there was unrest. The empire caused suffering for so many. The regents who owned the land were rich and happy, but they made their money off the backs of the common people who worked their land. It was unjust, and Nathaniel knew it. Something had to change.

  But what if that something was Gabriel?

  “Nathaniel,” said a voice behind him.

  Nathaniel turned. It was
Zachariah, who was the de facto leader amongst them. When they’d started out, they’d claimed there wouldn’t be anyone above the others, but Zachariah had emerged as the leader somehow anyway. Now, everyone looked to him to make the decisions.

  Nathaniel supposed it was unavoidable for someone to come out on top. Besides, he had to admit that it was often easier to defer to Zachariah’s judgment than to try and puzzle complicated decisions out on his own.

  He swung his feet over to the other side of the wall and jumped down. It was about six feet from the top, so it wasn’t a long drop, but he still landed in a crouch. He straightened. “Ho there, Zachariah.”

  “Coming back to camp now?”

  Nathaniel shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

  Zachariah eyed him, thoughtful. Then he shrugged too.

  Nathaniel began to walk back in the direction of the camp.

  Zachariah fell into step with him. “You’ve been going off on your own a lot.”

  “No more than usual,” said Nathaniel. He’d always valued his time to be alone and think more than some of the others. They taunted him over it, but that didn’t stop him.

  “Quite a bit more, I think,” said Zachariah. “Especially since we’ve settled here at the eastern edge of the wall. Why do you keep looking out at those ruins?”

  “No reason,” said Nathaniel.

  “Ever since we left the emperor’s mansion, you’ve been quieter. More isolated. I’m worried about you. I’m worried that something’s changed for you.”

  Nathaniel turned to him, furrowing his brow. “What do you mean?”

  “You don’t seem…” Zachariah stopped walking.

  Nathaniel did too, waiting for the other man to finish.

  “You aren’t having second thoughts about our mission, are you?”

  How did you guess? Nathaniel thought. But he only pasted a smile on his face. “Of course not. Why would you say that?”

  “We need you,” said Zachariah. “The villagers don’t come out to see us sing or perform plays, you know. They come to see your sparks.”

  “Electricity,” Nathaniel murmured.

  “What?”

  Nathaniel shook his head. “Nothing.” He clapped Zachariah on the back. “You’re worried about nothing.” He started to walk again.