THe Grave at Storm's End

by Devin Madson

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘As sure as I am about anything. I don’t gamble without good cause.’

  ‘And does he know?’

  ‘That he’s dying? Yes. That success will kill him? No.’ He smoothed the fabric of his robe, running his only hand down one thigh. ‘The councillors will not agree,’ he said. ‘But it is the only way. One way or another you have to give him what he wants.’ His violet eyes cut unblinking into my soul. ‘An Otako on the Crimson Throne.’

  I tapped the wooden box in my hand. ‘I see.’

  ‘You will.’

  ‘And you will see Kimiko again whether you want to or not,’ I said. ‘She’ll come, Darius. If she’ll take you, go, make a life far away from here.’

  Again those brows rose. ‘Relationship advice from a woman who’s in love with her husband’s general and carrying his enemy’s child?’

  ‘Child?’ I stared at that beautiful face with its mocking lilt, all too aware of the thin paper screens in the door behind me. ‘You… you can feel it?’

  ‘No, I am not Endymion. But you’re standing differently, your breasts are bigger and you keep touching your stomach. It isn’t difficult to read people, yet sometimes I think I must be the only one who knows the language.’

  I snatched my hand away from my stomach, clenching the fingers into a fist. Child. Kimiko had said the women of our family were resilient stock. There had been too much to do then, the truth easy to ignore, but now its implications were inescapable. If I gave birth to a son he would be a full blood Otako heir to the Crimson Throne. Together Katashi and I could have achieved so much.

  ‘Consider yourself repaid in cruelty, lamb.’ Darius held out his good hand. ‘You have my Errant board, I think.’

  *****

  The emperor’s apartments were grandly decorated but sparsely furnished. For every ornate fretwork shutter and embroidered screen there was even more empty space, filled only with the most functional of furniture – a plain lap table, a storage chest, a low desk. It was Kin, this space the full embodiment of his dichotomy.

  ‘Master Kenji?’

  There was no answer. The matting crackled underfoot as I made my way on slow steps to next room. No Master Kenji, but his patient lay alone on the bed – a restless figure surrounded by burning braziers.

  I slid the door closed behind me, once again shutting myself in with the stink of sweat and the honey-based burn salve I was fast coming to hate. There was no change. Kin’s face was as creased and pained as it had been before, aged far beyond his years. Bandages covered most of his wounds, but where they did not the flesh was angry, red and weeping.

  ‘Damn you,’ I hissed under my breath, touching a hand to his hot forehead.

  As though sensing my touch, Kin muttered and threw his head to the side, crushing his burned cheek to the pillow. He let out a whimper and started to talk, fast and wild, his words nothing but a string of sounds with no meaning.

  ‘Kin?’ I said. ‘Can you hear me? It’s Hana.’

  ‘There’s no point trying to talk to him,’ came Kimiko’s voice though I could not see her body. ‘People suffering from fever are not really there.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ I said, spinning slowly to observe the room.

  ‘I mean that they retreat into some other part of their heads, because to be present while the body goes through such pain would drive them mad.’

  I thought of Darius and his Errant board. He had not spoken a word after I gave it back.

  Kimiko emerged from the shadows. Her bright blue eyes gleamed. ‘What is it you want from me, Hana? Why threaten Darius’s life to get my attention?’

  ‘I need you to do something for me.’

  ‘Need me to do something?’ she echoed. ‘Something I don’t want to do then, else you might have just asked.’

  ‘I’m past asking.’

  A snort of laughter broke over Kin’s restless moan. ‘Of course you are.’ She bowed, the gesture just mocking enough to make me seethe. ‘What can I do to serve you, my lady?’

  ‘You’re going to get me a meeting with General Manshin or the next time you see Darius it will be just his head.’

  ‘You talk big, but you won’t kill him.’

  ‘Perhaps not, but Katashi will. The gift of Lord Darius Laroth might buy us some more time. It is a sacrifice I would have to make for Kisia.’

  She was silent for a moment. Then: ‘Katashi would be proud of you, Hana. You’ve learned to fight for your right to rule even if it means throwing your family under the cart.’

  ‘A leader does what must be done.’

  Kimiko came closer then, intricate shadows passing across her face as she stepped beneath a fretwork lantern. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘That was his excuse, too.’

  ‘Will you do it or not?’

  ‘What exactly is it you want me to do? I am not in General Manshin’s confidence.’

  ‘I want you to go into Katashi’s camp, unseen, and bring General Manshin through the wall. I must meet with him. You’ll have to find somewhere safe.’

  ‘So hardly anything, really,’ she said.

  ‘Hardly anything,’ I agreed, ignoring the sarcasm. ‘And if you are seen, pretend you are carrying a message from your brother. No one would risk Katashi’s wrath by harming his twin without cause.’

  For the second time she clasped my face between her soft, cool hands, and the eyes that looked into mine were so like Katashi’s I could have believed him with me.

  ‘I’ll do it,’ she said. ‘But I don’t just want Darius.’

  ‘What else?’

  ‘Malice.’

  There was no kindness in her face. She spoke his name with twisted lips as though it were poison.

  ‘You are not the first to make that request,’ I said, needing to tread carefully now. ‘He is no longer mine to trade.’

  She asked the question with one exquisitely arched brow.

  ‘Darius,’ I said. ‘I needed information. In return I said I would free Malice.’

  The little woman stood still, considering me with those bright eyes. Despite the plain black and not entirely clean robe, Kimiko was all grace, regal in a way I knew I would never be.

  ‘Very well,’ she said at last. ‘It does not matter. Wherever Darius goes, Malice will follow eventually. Like my brother, my vengeance knows patience.’

  I wanted to ask what she meant. I wanted to ask about the child she carried, about her plans, about her feelings, to know where she would go and what she would do, but those were not words to speak. Not here. Not now. Not to this proud woman crushed so often beneath life’s heel.

  ‘I will bring your general.’ Kimiko turned away then, and walking away added: ‘But you will get nothing more from me, cousin. I pity you. Power is a lonely thing.’

  Without waiting for a reply she drew a breath and stepped through the panelling as though it were a mere illusion. No matter how many times I had seen her do it, it still scared me.

  Behind me the door slid. ‘Oh! My lady, I did not know you were here.’ Master Kenji, perfectly timed. No doubt he had heard voices, though he would pretend he had not.

  ‘I came to see His Majesty,’ I said, dragging my eyes from where Kimiko had vanished into the woodwork. ‘How are your other patients?’

  ‘We’ve lost another two, my lady. Father Kokoro is with them now.’

  ‘That’s six since we arrived.’

  ‘Yes, it is fortunate that it is a relatively smooth journey through the tunnel, or it would have been more.’

  ‘Fortunate indeed. Has there been any change?’

  Master Kenji crossed the floor, the skirt of his plain robe dragging with a hush. ‘He has the fever, as you see,’ he said, taking up his emperor’s slack hand to feel the pulse at his wrist. ‘Not good, not good,’ he muttered, replacing the hand an
d leaning down to lift Kin’s undamaged eyelid. ‘What a change ten minutes can make.’

  ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’

  The man looked up, confusion marring his seriousness. ‘Wrong? No, my lady, nothing is wrong. He has responded faster than expected to the previous treatment and I am unprepared. Help me to prop him up.’

  ‘There are maids aplenty who could assist you,’ I said, keeping myself from taking a step back.

  ‘Maids don’t mind taking away his dirty sheets and rags, they have qualms about touching their god.’

  God Emperor. The lie that held Kisia together. The lie that granted so much power.

  ‘Then I’ll send in one of his guards,’ I said. ‘They have a lot of experience with gods.’

  He would think me heartless. Kimiko already did and Darius had all but spat in my face. Everything Kin said about your family was right.

  Back out on the fourth round Tili was waiting for me, poised like a statue beneath the hanging lanterns. Their shadows scattered around her feet like beads of jet.

  ‘I need a yiji robe,’ I said before she had completed her bow. ‘And as soon as it’s dark I’ll need a palanquin and four carriers I can trust. No one can know.’

  Her eyes grew wide and she looked a question at me before dropping her gaze. Doubt crept in. I could be walking into a trap. There was no way to be sure of Kimiko’s intentions, no way to be sure she would not gamble Darius on a plan of her own. She was wild. Alone. Desperate.

  ‘I’ll need you with me,’ I added. ‘Dress appropriately for accompanying a yiji.’

  ‘Yes, my lady.’

  I nodded dismissal and she left about her mission, leaving me alone with my fears. Down on the third round servants and courtiers were continuing about their business as though no army camped outside the gates. Mei’lian was the capital. The stronghold. How many of them believed it could not fall to the northern dogs, no matter how many crazy stories about Katashi floated through the court? These were people untouched by the everyday world.

  General Ryoji came up the stairs. Tili bowed as she passed him but he seemed not to notice. His steps were loud, hers silent.

  ‘I need two of your most trustworthy men tonight,’ I said, before he had joined me.

  ‘I will give you as many men as you need, but I must ask why.’

  ‘A meeting with a general.’

  Ryoji leaned down. ‘Hana,’ he hissed in my ear. ‘Manshin is a traitor. It is too dangerous to risk your life on such a chance.’

  ‘No, Hade, it is too dangerous not to. Today we are all servants of the empire. Two of your best. I’m taking Endymion, too. Make sure your men know. I don’t want any trouble.’

  ‘Endymion is in no fit state to go anywhere.’

  ‘Not yet.’ I turned Darius’s opium box over in my hands. He had meant it for Malice, but Malice could wait. Right now Kisia needed a prince.

  Chapter 26

  I shivered, cheek to the stones. It was as though ice had replaced every bone in my body and I would never be warm again. Yet despite the cold my mind was not dormant. There was no silence, no peace. Emotions. Whispers. Numbers. Three in here. Two in the next room. One in the passage outside. Four. Sixteen. One. Eighty-four. I tried to rein it in, but the count just started over. Three. Two. One. Four. Sixteen.

  If I could just get my hands around his throat I’d squeeze, I’d squeeze and squeeze until his eyes bulged. I want to be the last thing he sees before the hells.

  Let them come. Let there be an end. Let there be peace.

  Help me, Darius. Please. I need you. I need you.

  I could no longer distinguish my own thoughts.

  The door slid; the hush of the wood running in its velvet groove loud like the thunder outside. Another storm was coming, the rumble rattling the old glass in the window.

  ‘Be careful. If you touch him—’

  ‘I know.’

  Sullen irritation. Remorse. Pain. A determination that made every muscle ache. And still I shivered.

  ‘He has been like this since last night?’ Hana’s voice.

  ‘Yes, my lady, there has been no change.’ That, Father Kokoro.

  ‘I need him.’

  I can’t take this mess with me.

  Pathetic, disgusting freak. All I need is the right time, when everyone is distracted, and I can kill them all. I can rid the world of Empaths.

  ‘You can’t take him like that.’ General Ryoji, though his voice melded with his whispers. Too risky. Too risky. ‘Give up this plan, my lady, I beg you. General Manshin will not listen to anyone but himself.’

  ‘He will listen to the true heir to the Crimson Throne. Father Kokoro?’

  ‘Yes, my lady?’

  ‘Fetch your brother.’

  I don’t have a brother. Men of the gods give up such earthly ties.

  ‘My brother?’

  ‘Brother Jian. He tells me he can help.’

  Going behind my back brother?

  ‘Then I will bring him at once, my lady.’

  Brother. The word nagged. It ought to mean something, but though I clawed at understanding it was beyond my reach. Seven. Fourteen. Two. Three hundred and four. One million, three hundred and ten thousand and twenty-one.

  ‘My lady?’

  ‘Ah, Brother Jian. You said you could help, well now is your chance. I need Takehiko Otako, not this mess. I have opium. Will that help to… calm him down? It has always seemed to work well for Malice.’

  A snort and the glower of Avarice’s soul.

  ‘Yes, my lady, I am sure it would, but…’

  ‘But?’

  ‘I beg you will let me talk to him first. Let me see what I can do without the drug.’

  ‘Very well. You have two hours. I need him dressed and ready to accompany me this evening or this city will burn.’

  ‘Yes, my lady.’

  The door slid, and slid again.

  ‘He’s all yours, Brother Jian. Don’t let me down.’

  Again the door.

  Souls moved. Seven. Six. Five.

  A breeze shifted my hair. Touched my arm. Caressed the rumpled skin of my still-healing Traitor’s Mark. And in its touch, the taste of another soul.

  ‘Endymion?’

  My poor boy, what has happened to you?

  It was hard to focus on the blurred face above me, but a red scar glared through the fog, like a hook caught over a dark eye.

  ‘Jian?’

  ‘It’s time to wake up,’ he said.

  ‘Why? Where are we going?’

  ‘Home.’

  I shook my head slowly, vaguely aware of the stink of vomit nearby. ‘I don’t have a home.’

  ‘Home isn’t always a place.’

  ‘He isn’t a child anymore, Jian,’ Kokoro said. ‘He Maturated, remember?’

  ‘Yes, but that doesn’t make him a monster.’

  Three. Two. One. Four. Fifteen. One. Eighty-five. He’s both a monster and a freak, just like the other two. Look at this pathetic sack of bile. At least he’ll be easy to get rid of.

  ‘He’s killed at least a hundred people in the last month just by touching them,’ the same voice said out loud. Kokoro again.

  ‘Two hundred and forty-one,’ I said. ‘All unworthy of life. I gave them justice.’ Two hundred and forty-one, and how many of their memories lived within me now? How many of them had I stolen? Had I become?

  My teeth began to chatter. I was shaking, my bony shoulder grinding against the stone.

  Can you hear me, Endymion? You’re a monster. Your father ought to have killed you and rid the world of your curse. You think you’re a god? You spit on the gods just by breathing.

  ‘Endymion?’

  I did not answer.

  ‘He’s cold. Can you send for blankets and ho
t soup? None of them look well.’

  A grip on my elbow fought to drag me up and my vision floated into focus. Jian. Old. Lined. An angry scar marred his face and his hair was gone but for a few stragglers that had escaped the torture. He looked older, more worn, but the look in his dark eyes was the same as ever, the same pity, the same tenderness.

  My child, I wish I had done better by you. I wish I had known what you needed.

  His hand reached for mine and I slapped it away, scuttling back across the stones.

  ‘Stay away,’ I said. ‘Don’t touch me.’

  ‘Endymion—’

  ‘No, he’s right, I’m a monster. You ought to have strangled me as a child and thrown me to the crows.’ Back to the wall, I clasped my knees, still shivering. ‘Oh gods, what is wrong with me?’

  Jian hushed me, the old man hunched over, approaching on slow, shuffling feet. ‘You are sick and tired and hungry and nothing else.’

  ‘No! You don’t understand. I don’t know who I am. Who is Endymion? Did I steal his memories?’ I held up a shaking hand to hold him off and he came no closer. ‘I was there the day the Chiltaens tried to take Riyan Bridge. I watched men die, watched their corpses boil beneath the sun, and I can still remember the smell. But I remember being told the story too, by a farmer’s boy while I sat in the fork of an apple tree. He said six hundred of the Emperor’s men had been thrown from the bridge to crack their skulls upon the rocks. And I remember you telling me that war with Chiltae would make travel difficult. There was a priest in one of those villages between The Ribbon and the border who wouldn’t stop talking about it, and you sent me to feed the ox a second time just so I wouldn’t hear what he was saying. But I was there; I’d already seen it. How can I have been there if I was with you? How can I have been with you if I was sitting in an orchard, taking a bite out of a crisp yellow apple before I threw it at the boy’s head?’

  Every breath rushed in and out of my chest with the fury of a gale and I could not slow it. For a panicked moment I wondered if it was possible to choke on air.