THe Grave at Storm's End

by Devin Madson

  I tried to scramble to my feet, but Malice thrust me back. ‘Oh, you don’t want Darius to know this little secret? You think it will make him angry, yes? The man he served, the man he trusted and believed in like a fool. Yes, I think you are right. Darius is not going to be pleased.’

  ‘Tell him about the child, Malice, you have to!’

  Malice laughed. ‘You think I don’t know Darius,’ he said. ‘It’s you who are wrong, yes? You think a pregnant woman can change him? You think the prospect of a child can turn him into some pious hero?’ He clicked his tongue. ‘Pity. Really, Endymion, you think it hasn’t happened before? You think this is the first time Darius has taken a chance on the life of a whore?’

  ‘He loves her.’

  ‘Love? If he truly loved her he would never have put her life at risk.’

  He must have felt my confusion for he shook his head sadly. ‘Really, Endymion, don’t you know anything? Have you never wondered why there are no female Empaths?’

  Malice gripped my chin and leaned in as though he would plant a kiss upon my lips. And the truth was there in his touch as truly as it was in his words. ‘Female babies kill their mothers. If the child is a girl, then Kimiko will die. How is that for love?’

  Chapter 6

  Endymion remained with me long after his body had been dragged from the wagon. The boy was skeletally frail, his hair unkempt and his cheeks gaunt, yet his presence had filled the wagon the way Katashi could.

  I sat my book face down on the table. Its old pages crackled. He had wanted to talk, but why risk his life now after months of silence? There was no answer, which meant he knew something that I did not.

  The door opened and Malice entered, trailing a cloak of opium behind him. His eyes were bright. The pulse of his soul thrummed.

  ‘I told you the boy would go mad,’ he said.

  His suppressed excitement was like an ache.

  ‘Spit it out,’ I said. ‘What did he tell you?’

  ‘Oh, poor Endymion, he was so desperate to speak, but he knew his news would hurt you too much, yes?’ Malice crooned. ‘And he couldn’t bear to hurt big brother Darius.’

  ‘Are you going to tell me or not?’

  Malice held out his arm over the table. ‘I can do better. I can show you.’ A little laugh, but there was a hard glint in his eyes. Normally he was so easy to read, but there was ambivalence in him now. A guardedness that made my stomach churn.

  But would I welcome Endymion’s information or regret it? There was no answer in Malice’s face, no answer in his emotions and he had long ago worn thin my trust.

  ‘You know you’re going to,’ he said, holding his arm steady. His loose sleeve slipped back to show the birthmark he was so proud of. ‘You’re too curious.’

  He was right. Self-preservation was an elusive goal.

  I touched the back of his hand. Images flashed into my head and I gasped as Justice infused me to the bone.

  A hand was on my shoulder. ‘You are welcome to stay, Takehiko,’ spoke a voice I had heard almost every day for five years. ‘But—’

  I knew what would happen next, knew with every ounce of Endymion’s assurance. The point of a dagger nicked my side, but my hand was at Kin’s throat. Right hand. Not mine. Not mine, I told myself.

  ‘No.’ The word came from my lips, but the voice was Endymion’s. ‘Empaths are never welcome.’

  The words became a mess. The images jumbled. ‘Your brother betrayed me.’ Kin’s words came fast, angry. ‘Tell me why I should trust you.’

  ‘Because I don’t lie. 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.’

  ‘We all make hard choices.’

  I let go of Malice’s hand. The tangle of words and thoughts died like snapping threads.

  Justice.

  The only Normal who could rule Kisia had done it through blood and lies.

  All men have secrets.

  Kin had ordered Emperor Lan’s assassination, had framed Grace Tianto for the crime and destroyed the Otako dynasty. For Hana a life of hiding. For Kimiko, prostitution. And Katashi had stewed on his wrongs until he could see nothing but anger.

  And I had bowed at Kin’s feet.

  A roar of fury tore from my throat. I could not stop it, could only scream until there was no breath left to sustain it. But when all my breath was gone Malice was still there watching me, his eyes hard. ‘Kin,’ I said, breaking my silence. ‘It was Kin all along. Kin ordered the assassination of Emperor Lan and his family.’

  ‘Yes.’

  I barely heard the joyous word.

  ‘He killed Empress Li.’

  ‘Yes.’

  There were no words for what followed, the realisation a blossoming horror. Kin had killed Empress Li, and her death, more than any vagary of the Empathic state, had driven my father mad. And that descent toward insanity had made him attempt the destruction of our name. He had not succeeded in killing me that night in the storm, but oh how he had tried.

  All because a commoner had ambitions above his station.

  My heartbeat sped sickeningly. ‘How,’ I began, hearing the deep vibration of fury in my own voice, ‘did I not see it? I watched him every day for five years. I was his closest confidant, and I never even suspected.’

  ‘Because you didn’t want to, yes?’ Malice said. ‘You wanted to believe in the good man who was right for the empire. Fool.’

  I turned on him. ‘Like you knew any better. Like anyone did. Who would believe he could kill the woman he loved to take the empire.’

  ‘It is the perfect cover. I admire his ambition.’

  ‘His ambition nearly killed you.’

  ‘No, our father nearly killed me,’ Malice said. ‘There is a difference, yes? He might have hated the world once Empress Li was gone, but there is more to the destruction of your own children than grief. He was weak.’

  ‘He was.’

  But I am not. I survived. And Kin would suffer for his deceit.

  I paced back and forth across the wagon floor, the sound alternating between the muted thud of carpet and the sharp raps of sandals on wood. Malice kept out of the way, but as always his eyes followed me.

  ‘He can’t have Hana,’ I said, speaking my thoughts aloud as I spun on my heel and strode back toward the door. ‘That means I have seven days to ruin him.’

  ‘Forgive my stupidity, my dear,’ Malice said. ‘But I thought the plan was for him to have her.’

  ‘It was.’

  ‘But now it is not?’

  I stopped pacing. ‘No.’

  ‘Why were we letting him have her in the first place? It is not like we wanted Kin to win this war, yes?’

  ‘Because the simplest way to give Hana an unassailable position of power is to let her marry The Usurper. Obviously you did not agree. Why else send Conceit to play his game.’

  Malice’s fingers stopped combing through his ponytail. ‘You did not stop him.’

  ‘To what end? Attention was what you wanted.’

  It was my turn to sneer. Malice set his jaw and turned toward the mirror. I hadn’t noticed he was soaked from the storm until he began peeling off his wet robe. He had just returned from an evening spent plying his particular craft.

  ‘How fared your mission?’ I asked as he hung first one robe and then the other – midnight blue and tan, his favourite combination.

  ‘How kind of you to ask, yes?’ The glance he threw me was sour. ‘The man didn’t make it.’

  ‘Unfortunate.’

  ‘Unfortunate indeed,’ he said, not immedia
tely reaching for a new robe to cover his nakedness. ‘Since we have lost twelve Vices in the last few weeks, yes?’

  I returned to the divan, putting space between us. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ I said. ‘I don’t need them.’

  Malice turned. ‘Don’t need them? Do you plan on taking up arms yourself then, brother?’

  ‘I don’t need to.’

  ‘No? How then do you plan to take the Crimson Throne?’

  ‘I won’t. Hana will. ’

  ‘And Kin?’

  ‘She will destroy him far more cruelly than I ever could,’ I said. ‘How well do you think she will take the discovery that Kin murdered her mother in cold blood? It’s a pity your play with Conceit has put us further out of favour with her, but there are always ways.’

  Malice stared, not seeming to recall he was still undressed. ‘Ways? To take the empire?’

  ‘First Shimai. Then the empire. Katashi is the perfect weapon, and now we have Endymion, too. If we play him right he will ensure Hana is in Shimai when we attack, then everything else will fall into place.’

  Malice took a step forward, and though there had once been a time when such freedom existed between us, his nakedness made me uneasy. ‘He won’t trust either of us.’

  ‘No, but he’ll trust your pretty little toy.’

  He grinned and with another step, knelt on the edge of the divan, ever confident of his welcome. ‘I love watching your mind work.’ He ran a finger down my cheek. It was so natural to have him in my veins that I barely felt the intrusion. ‘But there’s something you’re not telling me, yes?’

  ‘Not telling you?’

  ‘I know that face,’ he said. ‘You never used to keep secrets from me.’

  ‘Five years is a long time.’

  ‘So you keep reminding me. You are devising another play.’

  ‘Perhaps.’

  Malice sat back with a sudden snarl. ‘Perhaps? Shivatsa to you and your perhaps. I thought we were in this together. We are brothers.’

  ‘You think I could forget?’ I slapped his hand away. ‘You touch me, you caress me, you stare, you consume, you suffocate me, brother.’

  I knew his touch too well to flinch though he gripped a handful of my hair. ‘I love you, Darius,’ he said, his face so close that I could smell the oil on his skin and the stink of wet hair. ‘I love you like no one else ever could because I know you inside and out, yes?’

  It was reckless to goad him and in some sane part of my mind I knew it, but I wanted him to hurt. ‘Am I meant to thank you?’

  Malice tightened his grip on my hair. ‘Our father called you a cold, ungrateful pup,’ he said. ‘And he was right.’

  ‘You talk about him like you knew him.’ I licked my dry lips. ‘He hated you, Malice. I might have been a monster, but you were a bastard monster born to a whore he never gave a damn about. He abandoned you.’

  I hissed as hair ripped from my skull. Malice propped his weight on my ribcage and wormed a hand beneath my robe, his fingernails cutting into my skin. ‘A family tradition, that, yes? But you were crueller. You let me in. You were my world, my everything. And then you left!’

  ‘You had my money.’

  ‘Vatsa!’ His nails cut into my chest freeing blood. ‘I would have given that up for you. I would have done anything for you.’

  ‘How sweet,’ I jeered.

  Malice let go and sat back on my thighs, his rigid cock all too close to my own. ‘Why do you hate me so much?’ he said. ‘What did I do?’

  ‘You just ruined my last good robe,’ I replied. ‘I hope one of your Vices knows how to get blood out of silk.’

  A laugh burst from him and his eyes danced with brittle humour. ‘Oh gods, I’ve missed you, yes? Five years. Five years without the sound of your voice, without your wit and your fire, without the touch of your skin.’ He ran his hands through the blood, painting my chest crimson. It stung, and before I could catch my breath he was tugging my sash loose.

  ‘Get off,’ I said, but Malice didn’t seem to hear. His long fingers were already working on the ties of my under robe. ‘Stop. Now.’

  I gripped his wrist with my left hand, but he yanked his arm free and shuffled back, cock bobbing. I couldn’t hear the rain anymore, only the pounding of my heart and our quickened breath. I wanted to push him away, to kick him, to scream, anything to get him off me, but I was not yet so mad that I had forgotten where that road led. Mastery was survival.

  Malice gripped my thighs. I caught my hand an inch from hitting him, and placed my palm upon his cheek with a gentleness that tore at my self-control. ‘Stop,’ I said, the word quiet. ‘Look at me.’

  Through a fall of dark hair he looked up, granting me a single moment. ‘What?’

  ‘Get off,’ I said. ‘Unless you plan to rape me.’

  A snarl tore from his lips. ‘Damn you, Darius! Damn you and your cold blood. I need you!’

  ‘That’s too bad, because I don’t need you.’

  The words were out before I could stop them. The air changed taste, became pungent with hurt. Malice’s fist clenched. ‘You damned, manipulative little kasu,’ he said. ‘You’re lying.’

  Entirely naked, he could not hide the shrivelling of his confidence any more than the shrivelling of his lust.

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘Now get off me.’

  I gathered my robe closed with my left hand, hating its clumsiness. The divan creaked as Malice removed his weight. Silent, he strode to the mirror and began to dress in the first dry under robe that came to hand – white, such a fine summer weight it was almost transparent. He was fuming, spilling hurt and anger.

  As though feeling the weight of my scrutiny, Malice paused in the act of neatening his ponytail, as though to smooth his hair would erase the last few minutes from history. ‘I once had a brother who wanted to rule Kisia as a god,’ he said, not looking around. ‘Was she really so good, my Adversity?’

  ‘If you thought with your head instead of your cock you might succeed in sounding less stupid,’ I said.

  He looked around then, all anger. ‘Control never was my speciality, brother, yes? When you’re ready I’ll send Hope to play saviour.’

  Almost I had forgotten about Endymion. For my plan to succeed I would have to move fast.

  ‘I’m going to see Katashi.’

  ‘Will dear Katashi like his orders?’ Malice glanced around at the scene of carnage my Vice had left behind the night before – scattered Errant pieces, an overturned table and a shattered teapot spread like cerulean tears. ‘He has been rather… difficult of late, yes?’

  ‘He will do what he is told.’

  He began tying his sash, care and precision in every movement of his hands. ‘I am not so sure. Be careful with him, yes? He is not the sort of stick that breaks when you bend it. He is the sort that snaps back and whacks you in the face.’

  ‘What beautiful imagery you have.’

  ‘And what a mocking tone you have, my dear.’

  ‘He will do as he is told or he will never see the Crimson Throne.’

  ‘Never is a long time, yes?’

  ‘Not when you’re dying.’

  Malice’s hands froze upon the last twists of his knot. ‘Dying?’

  ‘Yes, dying. You cannot tell me you’re surprised. It is not the first time marking someone has killed them. Witness your mission last night.’

  He stared fixedly at me as though trying to read small words writ upon my cheek.

  ‘The more he uses the ability the faster it will consume him,’ I said, disliking his intensity. ‘We are running out of time. Send your toy with a message for Endymion tonight, but be subtle, we don’t want anyone to suspect it’s a trap. I’ll do the rest.’

  Malice dropped the ends of his sash and bowed. ‘As you command, Mastery,’ he said. ‘It will take time to be subtle. D
on’t miss me too much, yes?’

  *****

  Katashi stood at the mark, his famous longbow in one gloved hand. A dozen arrows already protruded from his makeshift target – a handprint burned into the trunk of an old oak.

  ‘What can I do for you, Master?’ he said, not looking around as he nocked another arrow to his string. He had discarded his imperial crimson for rebels’ black. It hid burns better, but even at this distance I could smell charred fabric.

  When I didn’t answer he looked over his shoulder. ‘Do you want to challenge me? No, wait, you need two hands for that, don’t you?’

  Unconsciously I wriggled my right hand, sure I was moving fingers – fingers that could not feel the caress of the air or the touch of rain.

  ‘Amusing,’ I said as he drew. I had not seen him practice before and expected a moment of pause, to prepare, to aim, but as soon as the string was at full stretch he let it go. Invisible, the arrow leapt through the air and hit the tree with such force it shuddered. The scalded palm was full and he was now populating its fingers.

  ‘I hear you do this every day,’ I said. ‘Are you so afraid of losing your edge?’

  ‘I won half of my men this way,’ he replied, nocking another arrow. ‘Any fool can hit a target. To be a god I must hit where I aim every time, no matter what the challenge. Last night would have gone very differently had I missed, don’t you think?’

  The arrow dug into the tip of the black thumbprint.

  Katashi looked at me over his shoulder. ‘You’ve never followed me into the Fen before so I can only assume something exciting has happened and summoning me would take too long.’

  ‘You dawdle.’

  ‘Unfair, Laroth, I merely enjoy the scenery.’

  ‘We’re going to take Shimai.’

  Another arrow was already nocked to the string, but he didn’t immediately draw. ‘Our next move is Risian.’

  ‘Forget Risian. We take Shimai within the week.’

  The arrow tip slammed into the as yet empty little finger. ‘The sister city is heavily fortified. You have some grand plan?’

  ‘Yes. My grand plan is a frontal assault.’