The blond pushed up from the ground, seemingly a bit disoriented as he glanced around the room. Then he took one glance at Celty and snarled, "Kill her!"
The umber-haired man strode over and back-handed Celty. She flew back, her head dangling on her neck. The man advanced again, and slapped her a second time.
White lights broke out across Celty’s vision, and she became half-conscious.
Shouting filled the space. Celty glanced through bleary eyes to see a posse of men rush the two drunk men. The men stumbled back, hands held high.
Guards from the Hiwan Army.
Celty recognized their uniforms right away, even in her half-conscious state.
They grabbed the two drunk men, forcing them apart. A third guard approached the bleeding man, who still blubbered incoherently into his hands.
While the two drunk men attempted to defend themselves, Celty struggled through waves of darkness threatening to overtake her. Her vision waned, and her heart thudded in her ears.
Slowly, one minute at a time, Celty’s vision cleared. She snapped back to consciousness when she spied Goro running into the stable.
"What happened?" he cried, taking in the three foot soldiers and their leader. "What is this mess? Blood is everywhere. Who are these men? Celty! This is your doing, I know it. Trouble follows you everywhere."
A small voice piped up. "No, Uncle! It was not her. I saw everything."
Jin's young voice was the only sound for what felt like a long stretch of time. Even the guards and Goro quieted to let him talk. He described seeing the three men just before they attempted to rape her, and then her biting the nose off of one.
Celty listened without remorse, measuring the silence with every heartbeat. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth, trickling down the back of her throat.
No doubt her nose was bleeding too; it would be another lovely bruise to add to her collection. Or was it that foul man's blood that she tasted?
Then again, did it matter?
The guard – a lieutenant – motioned to Jin's.
"Your son?"
"Bastard nephew," Goro spat. "My sister died and left him to me."
The lieutenant grunted and motioned toward the three on the ground. The other guards moved into action and yanked them from the ground. Goro affected a fake smile as the guards shoved the three drunk men out. Once they left, he turned to Celty with a murderous gaze.
"Even when you're have dead and tied up, you still get me into trouble! Hateful girl."
Celty tracked him from her half-slit eyes, but didn't bother responding. Goro never wanted a response – just someone to blame.
"Jin, go back to your shack. Get to sleep. No more heroics for the night."
Celty relished the silence once Goro shuffled away without another glance her direction. She used the chance to pull her mind back together.
The water, which had welled up in her eyes from being knocked in the face two times, trickled down her face as tears. The stinging pain in her nose suddenly felt overwhelming.
She shifted, attempting to find a comfortable position, but there was none. With eyes closed, Celty pressed her forehead back to the ground and listened.
After a few moments, the soft patter of feet moved across the stable.
She lifted her head, instantly alert. A pair of dark eyes peered around the corner
"Celty?"
"Jin," she whispered. "Have they come back for their revenge? Where are there?"
Jin advanced a few steps, shaking his head.
Her fears fell away. There was nothing sinister here anymore. Nothing around her felt the way it had when the three men were near.
Jin glanced behind him, then crouched on the floor next to her. He dropped a crust of bread onto the ground, and a small, leather pouch of water.
Celty nearly whimpered. Water.
"Please," she gasped, "help me drink."
He nodded once, holding the leather pouch to her lips. The cool water dribbled into her mouth. She gulped it greedily, draining the entire thing until it lay deflated and empty. Once she finished, she tilted her head back.
"Thank you."
He sank to his haunches, peering over his shoulder again. When he spoke, his voice was so low that Celty had to strain to hear. "My uncle will not approve of me feeding you, so you must eat before I go and get rid of every morsel."
She eyed the bread next to her mouth, so hungry she almost couldn't stand the sight of it. She leaned forward, nibbling off a bite. He watched, nodding in approval. The taste and texture of the food restored some of her strength, and with her thirst slated, Celty almost felt human again.
When she moved closer to take another bite, Jin flinched.
"You don't need to fear me."
He stared at her.
"I . . . I am not evil, like the rest of them." Her brow furrowed. "There is no evil here right now. I can . . . I can sense when there is. I can tell when a bad soul is present. Something inside of me just knows. You? You're a good one."
A toothy smile stretched across his face.
"How do you know?"
"I can feel it."
"Like magic?"
"Different."
Jin tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowed. "How did my uncle find you? You're not like the rest of the slaves. I meet all of them."
"Are you a slave?"
He shrugged. "Not really, but not that different from you either. Uncle gives me food and a shelter to sleep in, but that's mostly it."
"And you shared with me?"
He smiled. She managed a tremulous one back.
"Thank you. For the food and water, and for saving my life."
"And you?" He reached out, touching a strand of her hair. She sucked in a sharp breath and he pulled away. "Where did you come from? You must be special if trouble follows you, and if you have the guts to bite the nose off a drunk man about to rape you."
Celty thought back, wondering how to explain to Jin that she didn't actually know how she came to be with Goro as a slave. The great black maw in her mind seemed to encompass everything in her early years.
"There's not much to tell."
"Don't be modest. You must have a wonderful story."
"Maybe. If I do, I don't remember it."
His eyes widened. "At all?"
She shrugged. "Nothing."
"How strange."
"Maybe it was nothing special enough to remember."
With these words she could suddenly see Jin's mind run away with itself; no doubt the lad was picturing all kinds of dramatic, beautiful possibilities.
But those couldn't be true.
Celty forced her thoughts away; she had bigger things to worry about tonight. Her stomach ached, unused to the refreshment. She'd finished the last of the bread and every crumb that went with it.
"Jin," she murmured, leaning toward him. "Have you ever wanted to escape?"
His brow lifted. "Escape?"
"To be free of your uncle's foul moods and heavy hand? Release me. Let me go free. I'll take you to freedom with me. I feel that…something is coming soon. Something bad. Something . . . big.”
Celty's mind flashed back to the slave auction and those in the cages. Especially the two men in the cage with her. They had been big; strong, with sinewy arms and broad shoulders. Their sullen, careless arrogance had set them apart. They'd even met her gaze – something no slave did, not even to each other.
Something about those men had been different, and without knowing how, she felt the two had something to do with the coming darkness.
“I don't want to be here for it, and I don't want you to be either," she continued.
Jin opened his mouth, but closed it again. Creases formed on his brow. "Escape?" he questioned.
"Yes! Run away. To freedom."
"To do what?"
"Whatever you want. Survive. Find ways to be happy. Get away from your uncle's oppressive hand."
Jim fell into thought, and Celty w
aited, giving him space to think. Finally he glanced at her, blinked, blushed, and looked down.
"It's risky."
"All good things are," she said.
"Uncle would track us. Kill us. Especially me. It's bad enough that I exist, but if I were to embarrass him?" Jin shuddered. "He's a proud, ruthless man. He won't allow a slave and his bastard nephew to make a fool of him. I'm sorry, but I can't do it. It wouldn't be right – for either of us. Besides," Jin motioned to her with a wave of his hand, "you're in no condition to go anywhere."
"Jin, it's better out there. I promise."
He turned away, swallowing. "Maybe. But maybe not. The life of a runaway slave can't be any better than a tenured slave. At least here I have a shelter. Some food. Right?"
A pleading tone lingered in Jin’s voice, and she realized that he really meant it. He was sorry. But his fear ran deeper than hers.
Perhaps he feared all the things that freedom would bring. Or perhaps Goro really was someone to fear if she should make a fool out of him by escaping.
"It's all right, Jin,” she answered softly. “I understand."
His gaze lifted back to hers, and met it. "Really?"
"Yes. Thank you. You've already done so much for me. How can I ever repay you?"
His blush returned in an instant. "No need. Just one slave helping out another, I guess."
"Goro was right – you should get some sleep while you can. Something will be happening tomorrow. You need to be as ready as possible.
Jin nodded once, his lips pressed together, and made to go. He hesitated, locked his gaze with hers again, and then slowly stood up and shuffled out of the stall where she was chained.
Celty lay back in the straw, staring at the moon through the warped boards in the ceiling. In her throat, and deep in her chest, she quietly chanted a prayer to Canandra – the Lady of the Moon. The words seemed to thrum in the air as Celty prayed.
For strength. For power. For retribution. For the freedom for which she ached.
Light from the moon spilled through the boards, illuminating her face in thin bands of light. When she neared the end of the chant and uttered the final plea of help, the moon flashed a brilliant crimson red.
Celty caught her breath. The scarlet rays bled through the boards like lines of dripping blood, setting her violet eyes aglow in a celestial promise.
Yuna
The imperial palace was quiet.
The preparations and cleanup from the wedding party had ceased; even the servants had moved to their own rooms, leaving a calm silence in its wake. Only the imperial guards remained awake, standing at each door, at some windows, and at some strategic locations throughout the courtyard. Some of them paced while at their positions, too restless to sleep.
Amongst the palace’s marbled corridors a wraith-like figure darted, moving as if one with the shadows. Along the halls it slipped, moving silently on lithe, quick feet. It turned, ascending a staircase without a sound, and stole along the corridor reserved for the Hiwan clan's most revered guests.
Finally Yuna slipped from the shadows and stopped in front of the fourth door on the left. Her eyes darted from the left to the right; no other bodies haunted the corridor with her.
With a quick, four-rap staccato, she knocked on the door. Without waiting for permission to enter, she grabbed the door handle and twisted. The door opened without protest. She slipped inside, closing it behind her without a sound, and stared into the dark room.
Kenzo lay half-naked in a beam of moonlight on his bed. In his arms was a young dark-skinned woman, her shirt wrenched off and hanging from her waist. She glared at Yuna, her glittering eyes cutting through the darkness.
Yuna ignored her. "Get rid of the whore," Yuna snapped, advancing into the room. "You and I have some talking to do."
Kenzo held up a hand to stop her. With her eyebrow raised, Yuna paused halfway across the room.
The girl in his arms shifted. She draped one arm across her bare chest, hiding her breasts as she rolled onto her side to study Yuna in greater detail.
"This is my third wife, Shima," Kenzo said. "She deserves respect."
Yuna rolled her eyes.
Laughing, Kenzo turned to Shima, gently pushing her off his chest. "Go, Shima. Leave the room. I have business to take care of that would be utterly boring to you."
With a fierce scowl, Shima slipped a sheet around her body and left, the silky fabric trailing after her as she moved into her adjoining room. Yuna watched her go, waiting until she heard the snick of the lock in the door before she turned back to Kenzo.
Now he stood only a few feet away, his pants bulging. He reached out, running his fingertips along her arm. "Really, Yuna," he purred. "Could you not wait to have me again? Does the thought of coming into power and exacting revenge on your enemies make you as excited as it does me?"
"Your arrogance knows no bounds."
"Can one call the truth arrogance?" he snorted.
She grinned and gave a coy glance his direction, but deftly dodged his attempt to capture her wrist and draw her closer.
"No," she drawled, crossing to the bed. She sat on the edge, patting the spot next to her. "We have business to take care of first."
"With some dessert later?"
"If you are a good boy."
With a sigh, Kenzo followed, sinking next to her on the mattress. His weight pulled her closer, but she leaned back, resisting his attempt to draw her in. He frowned in mock protest, but folded his hands in front of him in a gesture of capitulation.
"Everything is in motion," she purred. "Everyone else is ready. It's time to launch the signal."
Kenzo passed her an amused glance, then stood again. "Oh, Yuna," he said, tsking under his breath, "you are so thorough, aren't you? So ready to be the creator of innocent deaths and political machinations. Really. Someone should teach you some manners."
He reached into a compartment in a table next to his bed, extracting a thick candle. With a quick flick of his wrist and a brush of the tinderbox, he lit the wick. Then he walked across the room to set the candle on the middle window facing over the courtyard.
Ribbons of moonlight bathed Kenzo’s figure for a moment as a strange greenish glow emanated from the candle and spread outward in a bright haze.
The flame flared, reaching higher just as planned.
The light would certainly draw the right, knowing eyes, Yuna thought as she gazed on in approval.
"So you say everything is good," Kenzo said, returning to stand in front of her and momentarily blocking Yuna’s view of the candle. "That everyone is in their proper place, yes?"
"You don't trust my word?" she drawled.
"Does that include the armaments for my men?"
"As we agreed, yes."
"Your people are reliable?"
"As reliable as yours."
He gifted her with a quick smile. "Then I imagine we should run into no unexpected issues."
"None at all," she murmured in agreement.
He advanced a step, reaching out with a hand to touch her jaw. She tilted her head back, welcoming the gesture with her favorite coy smile. Her bright red hair gleamed in the low moonlight, coiled in a bun and held there with a pointed, sharp ji-fu hairpin. Rust colored jewels decorated the end of the pin in a snarling fox.
Kenzo closed the remaining distance between them to devour her with a hungry kiss. "Yuna, celebrate our plan with me," he groaned.
"You have been a good boy," she purred.
"For you, always."
She stood up, shoved him onto the bed, and leaped on top of him. With a smooth motion she pulled off one of her sleeves, then the next.
Kenzo's eyes shone as she bared her chest and loomed over him. "I do love my rewards,” he murmured.
First he ran his hands over her shoulders and down her arms. Then he grabbed her and rolled her onto her back, pressing his weight into her. She shoved him off, following until she was on top. She kicked off the rest of her garments.
>
Kenzo moaned and gave in to her skillful motions, giving himself over to her utter control for the next fifteen minutes.
"Yuna," he cried finally, his eyes closed. "The gods!"
Her hand snaked up to her hair, nimbly finding the bronze hairpin inlaid with fox decorations on the top of her head. She unsheathed the ji-fu, and it glimmered in the moonlight for just a moment. The long tip tapered to a sharp end the width of her smallest finger.
Yuna impaled herself on Kenzo one last time, and as she heard him shout with ecstasy, lunged the hairpin deep into his chest, through his ribs, and right into his heart. His eyes blew open as he gasped. She pulled it free and plunged it in again. He coughed, shouted. Yuna dodged his flailing hands to shove the hairpin in again. She jerked it around with vicious stabs. Kenzo hacked. He gasped. Blood spilled from his mouth. Gasping, he rolled to the side, struggling to shove her away.
Yuna slipped free of the bed, sliding into the shadows as she watched him gurgle.
His flailing calmed, and his terrified eyes transformed into a gaze of disbelief. Minutes later, his face grew slack. His hand fell to his side, and the spurting of his blood slowed as his heart stopped, leaving him dead on the bed in a heap of blood.
Yuna bit at her bottom lip to contain any sounds of glee. Then she approached the bed and wiped the blood off her weapon with one of the blankets.
She pinned her hair up again and, rummaging through her discarded clothing, pulled out a knife.
Time was not on her side, so best not to lose any of it while getting dressed, she thought.
Completely naked, she darted to the door and, knife in hand, slipped into the hallway, closing the door behind her.
With confident, certain steps, she worked her way down the hall, following the long-memorized castle layout in her mind, Kenzo’s blood staining her naked body.
Peering around a corner, she spotted two guards flanking a pair of double doors. Two torches illuminated the hallway from the opposite wall, casting long, flickering shadows on the guards. She gauged the distance with her eyes and slipped back behind the corner.
Taking a long, slow breath, Yuna crouched, tensed her muscles, charged around the corner, and sprang into the air with a hiss.
Faces of Betrayal Page 13