Perhaps Mother Sigunta was in danger from this man!
But Hadjia could never ask Mother Sigunta anything about this; she didn’t even dare bring it up to Kaneko. No, the only way for her to get any answers was to learn more about the masked man.
Hadjia shot up off her bed. Solving this was up to her, and there was only one place in the Red Moon school where she could get her answers.
After she tidied herself up, change her clothes, and take a long drink of water from a pitcher, Hadjia left her room. She wound her way quietly through the halls before she slipped through a set of double doors and closed them firmly behind her.
The library.
Two other students were in the room, reading books in the far corner. They glanced up, saw Hadjia, and went back to their studying.
Hadjia advanced into the room, her eyes on the numerous books.
Where to even start?
As she stood pondering, she heard the sound of students walking past the library. A distant rattle of dishes indicated that most in the school were getting ready to eat.
No doubt the celebration for Renji had begun as well.
Hadjia’s stomach turned at the thought. She stopped in front of a bookshelf, closed her eyes, and forced herself to think. There must have been something that she could remember about the man in black.
Remembering the details didn’t take long.
He wore a black robe that billowed around his body, and a grotesque mask with a long nose.
She sucked in a sharp breath – He also had a pendant. It had dangled from his left hand. It was golden. Was it round? No, oblong, and tapered at the top like . . . fingers. A hand! It had been in the shape of a hand.
Had there been any other colors? Maybe…it have given off a faint glow.
What would glow? Hadjia pressed a hand to her head. A diamond? No. But some sort of gem! The sheen was slightly green sheen, like the color of an emerald.
Hadjia ran her fingertips along the spines of the books, perusing their titles. Poisons in the Marsh. The Historical Shift of Weapons in the Empire. Properties of Blood and Fire. She pulled several off the shelf, stacking them on a table and flipped through every page.
Some of them contained drawings. A few had a painting inside, but that was rare. Most of them proved useless to her.
An hour passed. Then another. Around lunchtime Hadjia nearly fell asleep, but caught herself. Another hour passed. Students came in and out, ignoring her. She ignored them, lost in her relentless and frustrating pursuit of…of what?
When the afternoon passed into evening, Hadjia gave up. She’d been in the library all day with nothing to show for it, and her stomach was grumbling. It made her feel lightheaded and weak, but the thought of food also made her queasy.
She re-shelved the books she had perused with a sigh, more frustrated than ever. The halls were quiet as she walked back to her room, her feet dragging. Her stomach ached with hunger. Her throat with thirst. She’d never felt so weary.
So . . . confused.
“Hadjia!” a cherry voice called out.
Hadjia glanced up to see Renji heading toward her, a wide grin on his face. She nodded once, swallowing.
“Did you see my reward?” he asked. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
In one hand he carried a leather sheath. He held it up, extracting a Kunjar blade – the special dagger that Kaneko wore. The one assassin blade after which every student in the Red Moon school lusted.
Hadjia’s longing for the blade wavered. How could she desire a weapon that might be used to kill innocent people? Her throat went dry, but she managed a slight smile when she noticed Renji studying her.
“Much of this is thanks to you,” he said as he sheathed it again. “You and Kaneko were a great help to me in the marshes. Praise to Mother Sigunta for helping us rid the world of evil people, and teaching us to do it so well, eh?”
“Praise be,” she choked out.
He sobered, putting a soft hand on her shoulder. “Without your words of encouragement, I may not have gone through with it. Thank you, Hadjia. I will be there for you when it’s your turn.” Then he laughed, scoffing, “But you won’t need me! Everyone knows you are the most gifted student here at the school. You could pass twenty tests!”
Hadjia remembered the little girl they hadn’t killed. They had left her alone with her parents bleeding out on the ground.
What would Renji say if he knew the truth? What could he do, now that he was one of Mother Sigunta’s special assassins?
Perhaps there was no escape from this.
“I trust it will go well,” she murmured when the silence had stretched too long.
Renji’s dark eyes narrowed as he considered her appearance. “Hadjia, are you ill?”
“I didn’t sleep well. Too much time in the marsh, perhaps.”
“You must get some rest. I’ll go tell Mother that – ”
“No!”
He reared back, startled. Hadjia licked her lips, managing a tremulous smile.
“No. Thanks, Renji. Don’t worry. And don’t tell Mother Sigunta about my headache and weariness. A little rest and a full belly will cure me.”
Renji smiled back. “Get better, Hadjia.”
Hadjia headed up the stairs on shaky legs as Renji went straight to his own quarters. When Hadjia reached her room, she collapsed for a second time. The room spun about her. After a few moments of resting on her bed, it slowed.
She opened her bleary eyes just as a knock sounded at the door. The door opened a smidgen.
“Hadjia?”
Kaneko’s voice drifted into the room. Hadjia forced herself to sit up. Kaneko advanced, silently shutting the door behind her.
“You are not well.”
“No,” Hadjia whispered. Her brow furrowed. “I am . . . confused. I…I can’t do it. I can’t do my test.”
Kaneko let out a long breath. “It’s only three days away.”
Hadjia said nothing.
Kaneko reached over, setting a hand on her back. “I know you’re confused by what you saw, but I have done some research.”
“On what?”
“Kim.”
Hadjia straightened. “What did you find?”
“He has been in trouble recently. Stealing from The Mother. Yelling at the other students. There is some proof that he stole some weapons and was hiding them in his room.”
Hadjia’s gave a small sigh of relief. Perhaps The Mother knew something she didn’t after all! “For what purpose?”
Kaneko shrugged. “What else is there? He likely meant to harm us, or The Mother. He was an angry little boy.”
Hadjia remembered how Kim had struck her as innocent. But perhaps he hadn’t been so innocent after all! She’d never heard anything about him acting out angrily, but that didn’t meant anything.
“I overheard Mother Sigunta telling another teacher that Kim was listening in to her conversation, and she believed he planned to kill her or the students. Perhaps he was listening to hear Mother Sigunta’s plans so he could make his big move. It doesn’t really matter, though. The Mother was protecting us.”
“But the mask – ”
Kaneko put a finger on Hadjia’s lips, silencing her. “I am like your big sister, am I not?”
Hadjia swallowed, then nodded. No matter what had happened at the Red Moon school, Kaneko had always been there with her. Had always helped Hadjia.
While Hadjia was still so frustrated and confused about Mother Sigunta, she also knew that Kaneko would not lie to her. Ever.
Yet…nothing made sense.
“Do you trust me?” Kaneko asked.
“Yes.”
“Then you must move forward with your test.”
Hadjia pursed her lips together as she thought for several long moments.
Perhaps Kaneko was right. There could be many secrets at the Red Moon school that Hadjia knew nothing about. Students were trained in all kinds of subtle arts, and Kim may have been the enemy after all.
But that still didn’t explain Mother Sigunta’s conversation with the masked man.
Kaneko reached out, put her arm around Hadjia’s shoulder, and pulled her close.
Hadjia melted against her. Even if she didn’t understand what was happening with Mother Sigunta, Kaneko wouldn’t lie to her. She would trust Kaneko.
“Yes,” Hadjia said. “I will do it.”
“You choose wisely, Hadjia. Very wisely. I am proud of you. Now, get some rest. I’ll bring you breakfast in the morning and give you a chance to gather your strength before you come down. You need to eat and rest so you’re prepared for the big test.”
Hadjia nodded, feeling somewhat numb. Kaneko helped her lay down in the bed, then pulled the coverlet over her.
Once she left, the room felt empty to Hadjia. Too empty.
Strands of moonlight shone into her room though the window. Hadjia stared at them, blinking back the fear and uncertainty.
If The Mother wasn’t really their mother, then who was? Who did Hadjia really belong to? And what kind of life did those who lived outside the school experience – the one that she would never know?
Hadjia sank deeper and deeper into her morose thoughts while bathed in the fall of moonlight into her room. Then the yellow light shifted. The shadows on the surface of the moon faded, and Hadjia sucked in a sharp breath.
For just a moment, the moon appeared to be a grinning, leering face.
She shut her eyes, pulled the coverlet over her head, and fell into a restless sleep.
Celty
The burning beam split as it fell. Celty curled into herself, tucking her arms around her head arms as she braced for the blow.
It didn’t happen. Instead, a guttural yell sounded next to her just before a crash.
Celty’s eyes flew open. What had happened?
The burly man who had been a few feet away was right beside her and shaking his hands as if he’d just held onto something hot.
The beam was on the ground a few steps away from Celty.
“The gods!” she muttered. “Did you knock that beam away from me?”
“Run!” the older man yelled at the younger man.
The man didn’t listen, only crouched down next to Celty again. He grabbed up her wrists and began sawing at the rope around them with renewed vigor. The remaining bindings began snapping one at a time.
Celty tugged with her arms, attempting to speed up the process.
The man looked up into her eyes. “Hold still now.”
He raised his dagger high, then in a swift, clean move brought it down.
It sliced through the final strands of the rope. Celty’s hands were free!
She scrambled to her feet, shoving away from the bonds tying her ankles to the log.
“We must go!” the young man yelled. “Follow us!”
Celty followed as best she could. They maneuvered through the smoke-filled stable, pieces of ceiling falling with every step they took. At one point Celty put a hand to her face, to wipe away her smoke-stained tears as she plunged through the near-inferno.
“Left!” the older man hollered. She followed the instruction, even though she wasn’t sure what lay in this direction.
Unexpectedly they spilled out into a small paddock. The fence on the far side of it was already collapsed, likely from the rush of panicked horses attempting to escape.
Celty drew in deep breaths of air the moment they moved out of the stable. She coughed, her throat burning. Her eyes stung.
“Keep going,” the older man rasped as he turned his head back to look at her and the other man. “We must – ”
“Ah, there you are,” drawled an unfamiliar voice. “We have been looking for you. What a pleasure to find you have trapped yourselves. It takes care of so much work for us.”
Celty snapped her head up. There was a soldier standing just outside the paddock, his emerald armor glimmering in the firelight. Four men flanked him, wry smiles on their faces. She stumbled back, only to encounter the outside wall of the stable.
Inside, another beam crashed down, sending a glittering spray of ash and fire up into the air. The stable was seconds away from collapsing in on itself.
All five soldiers pulled their katanas from their sheaths as Celty’s two companions drew their own weapons.
Three against five, she thought. A small chance.
“Stay back,” the older man murmured to the younger, pushing him back with his free hand. The younger man shook his head.
“No. I will fight,” he replied
The five advanced at once, shouting like animals as they vaulted over the fence and into the paddock. Two soldiers headed for each of Celty’s companions while the other one barreled toward her. Celty sucked in a sharp breath, and as the soldier got close, ducked. His katana bit into the stable wall behind her.
She shoved into him, driving her shoulder deep into his gut. He sputtered as she drove forward, forcibly pushing him across the paddock with her body until he collided with another soldier. The two fell down, bare heads cracking into each other.
Celty snatched up a rock from the ground and threw it into her attacker’s face. Blood burst from his nose; the man became still. His fingers slackened, releasing his katana onto the ground.
Without hesitation, Celty grabbed his sword and raised it. She bared her teeth at the three Ameyas still standing. All of them stared at her, momentarily shocked into stillness by her wild ferocity.
The fighting resumed as all three soldiers advanced toward Celty. She dodged their sword thrusts, twirling out of reach of the long blades.
The young man plunged forward, stepping between her and the soldiers. Flanked by the older one, the two men cut their enemies down to two, then one.
Celty stepped back, nostrils flared.
Who were these men?
The remaining soldier fell, a blade in his heart.
Celty caught her breath. Had the three of them won?
The young man fell his knees, trembling. Whether his shaking was due to exertion or terror, Celty couldn’t tell.
She narrowed her eyes. He seemed a bit . . . clean for a battle like this.
Why would those soldiers be following these two men, anyhow?
“I . . . I killed him,” the young man rasped to the other.
The older man put a hand on his shoulder. “These are no innocent men. We are no longer training in the courtyard for the day when you’ll need the skills. That day has come! You are no longer a boy, but a man. You’ve killed to save a life.”
“But…I killed someone!”
“They would have killed you. This is the way of it. You will have to accept that. This is the way of it from now on. We either kill, or be killed ourselves.”
The last of the ceiling crashed down through the stables, an entire wall succumbing along with it. Celty scrambled away as the fire greedily consumed the dry wood.
Light from the stable fire flared into the sky, casting a bright glow on the two men with her. Celty stared as the darkness dissipated in the wake of a strange light from the moon. She craned her head back. “The gods,” she murmured.
A bright, crimson moon hung in the sky, casting a bloody light over the whole world. The sight sent a tremor of fear through her, dredging up the feelings of unease she’d felt for so long.
She thought of Jin, then banished it. Perhaps he’d found freedom when all this death fell on the city.
The older man cursed under his breath. “A wicked moon this night.”
“What does it mean?” the young man asked, pushing himself to his feet.
“Something evil has possessed the lands,” Celty said. Her voice rang through the paddock.
The men shifted their gazes from the moon to her face. She lifted an eyebrow as an awkward silence ensued.
As the light of the strange moonlight illuminated their features again, Celty suddenly recognized the face of the young man. Her gaze darted to the other.
No! The two men who had saved her wer
e Prince Isao and General Khalem!
She’d seen them often enough riding their regal horses. She’d never interacted with them – no slave would dare approach the Emperor’s son – but she’d seen the Prince enough to know his face. Isao made routine visits in the city to see his people, shopping from the markets to support them.
But never had he come to observe the slaves in their cages.
Her lips started to curl in a sneer, but she forced it back.
The truth was, she’d never seen Isao or Khalem around the auction block. To her knowledge, and that of the other slaves as well, they had never owned another human.
Besides, no matter what he had or hadn’t done in the past, Isao had just helped her now. He had charged into the inferno to save her when Khalem would have left her for dead. But then the General had knocked away the falling beam that would have killed her. And, when the five soldiers would have killed her, the two of them had fought to protect her.
Perhaps the free wealthy had some redeeming qualities after all.
Yet…how could someone risk that much when he didn’t know anything about her…and likely wouldn’t work that hard to find out anything about her? No one ever did.
Prince Isao and his family lived a sheltered and pampered life in the palace. Chances were the Emperor and his son actually knew little about the troubles plaguing the Empire. Their “soft” lives would have hampered their abilities to truly see.
Although, Celty grudgingly had to admit, Isao deserved some respect: He had killed two of the five – and didn’t even vomit afterwards, despite it being his first killings. Too, he had chosen to risk his own life for someone who was clearly a slave . By the strange light filling his eyes right now – dare she call it compassion? – it seemed he would do so again without fail.
Celty blinked, shaking herself out of these thoughts. She forced a calm expression onto her face.
“No wonder they chased you, Prince Isao. And General Khalem,” she said, giving each a nod of recognition.
Isao’s nostrils flared briefly, but he too put a calm demeanor on his face. “Yes. No doubt many more will.”
General Khalem eyed her studiously, a cool hauteur in his eyes. She met his gaze, refusing to look away. As he glared at her, she noticed he rubbed at his right shoulder.
Faces of Betrayal Page 17