THe Grave at Storm's End

by Devin Madson

  ‘He is not getting better, my lady,’ Master Kenji said, looking sidelong at me as he stirred a fresh salve with a wooden spoon. ‘He is in the hands of the gods now.’

  ‘Katashi is inside the city.’

  Master Kenji paused in his stirring. ‘Then we are all in the hands of the gods.’

  ‘Gods.’ My laugh was more snort than chuckle. ‘What a pleasant fiction that is.’

  Kin flinched and rolled his head restlessly on the bloodstained pillow. Kisia’s emperor was dying. Two more days and I might call him husband. He had to live two more days.

  ‘There are no gods, Master Kenji,’ I said. ‘You are the one who has to keep him alive. I don’t care what it takes. He has to live.’

  ‘I can only do so much, my lady,’ the court physician protested. ‘The rest is up to him.’

  ‘That was an order, Master Kenji, not a request.’

  His lips parted but he did not protest again, just bowed deeply. ‘Yes, my lady.’

  The emperor’s rooms might have been sparsely furnished, but Master Kenji was leaving his touch. A half-eaten tray of food sat upon a side table, its teapot having long since ceased to steam, and what looked like the entire contents of the palace’s medicinal stores now colonised a section of the floor. All bottles and packets and bundles of herbs, bowls and spoons and incense sticks, and metal instruments that made my skin crawl.

  ‘Do you have everything you need?’ I said.

  ‘I believe so, my lady.’

  ‘Food. Water. I assume there is a chamber pot.’

  Master Kenji once again halted his stirring. ‘If there is something else I require I can always call for the servants.’

  ‘No. I’m going to barricade you in.’

  ‘You’re going to…’

  ‘You are a healer, not a soldier. I have ordered you to keep him alive, but if Katashi makes it this far there is nothing you can do.’

  For the first time I saw real fear in his face. This man who had dealt with death every day, who lived amid blood and screams, was afraid of what was coming.

  ‘Do you have everything you need?’

  ‘Yes, my lady.’

  ‘Good.’ I turned to leave.

  ‘My lady?’

  ‘Master Kenji?’

  ‘No barricade will keep out Katashi Otako. Fire can burn through any amount of wooden furniture.’

  His hand had completely stilled. He was no longer even looking at the salve, his mind alight with flames.

  ‘You are right, but it just needs to slow down his men. I will keep Katashi out.’

  He did not ask how, just bowed. ‘Thank you, my lady.’

  Outside the emperor’s apartments dust motes danced in the morning light. General Ryoji’s six strongest men stood waiting in silence.

  ‘Barricade them in,’ I said. ‘You have permission to use any and all furniture you can find. I want this hallway impassable.’

  No time was wasted. They left and returned carrying divans and chairs and sleeping mats, then tables, shelves and armfuls of books, more bedding, ornate sideboards, travelling chests and even a pair of enormous canopied beds. I watched as they piled it up, not just dumping but stacking strategically to create a dense tangle until there was no way Pikes could easily get in, and no way Master Kenji could get out.

  The floor shook to a thunderous boom. Beyond the window the gardens looked peaceful, but above the outer wall smoke was rising.

  ‘He’s in the square,’ one of the soldiers said, and I could hear his fear.

  Another boom shuddered the floor. Flames ripped through the gatehouse and smoke poured into the sky. More flames. Screams echoed up from the lower levels of the inner palace and my stomach twisted into knots.

  ‘Finish here,’ I said. ‘Then return to General Ryoji.’

  The men bowed, gleaming now with sweat and with their chests heaving. ‘Yes, my lady.’

  I looked at the door to the round, but my feet would not move. ‘Come on, Hana,’ I said. The first step was like dragging myself through swamp ooze, but the second was easier and I began to walk, step after step, toward the landing.

  ‘Keep walking,’ I hissed. ‘Come on!’

  At the end of the passage was another narrow window. The view had not changed. Rain was putting out the flames and dampening the smoke while servants and courtiers fled like jewelled ants across the sodden gardens. Dying flames meant Katashi was not remaining to sustain them.

  He was already moving.

  Chapter 32

  As we slipped through the wall it occurred to me to wonder whether Kimiko’s skill allowed her to move through objects, or allowed objects to move through her. Perhaps it was one and the same, both resulting in a fuzzy sensation throughout my body and the taste of sawdust.

  ‘Might I request we do that as little as possible?’ I said as we emerged into the next room.

  ‘I never used to enjoy it,’ Kimiko said, touching the now solid wall we had just passed through. ‘But I’m used to it now. It certainly allows one a freedom not available to ordinary people.’

  ‘Enjoy it enough to be thankful for your fate?’

  ‘No.’ The word was sharp and hard. ‘Never that, just a unique silver lining to a very dark cloud. But if you would prefer to go the long way—’

  Kimiko went to the door, but it was locked from the outside. ‘I guess we’ll have to do it my way.’

  She held out her hand, but I did not take it. ‘Afraid?’ she said. ‘These wooden walls are nothing to the walls of Koi. Remember?’

  ‘I remember,’ I said. ‘But I’m not afraid of the walls. You didn’t answer me.’

  ‘Answer what?’

  ‘I asked you to marry me.’

  ‘Darius, we don’t have time. We need to get out of here before Katashi burns the place down.’

  ‘But your answer is what makes getting out of here worthwhile.’

  Kimiko’s hand slowly fell until it once again rested at her side. There was trouble in her face, no smile, just a tautness about her lips and a gaze that did not meet mine. ‘Darius… I can’t give you an answer,’ she said, looking to the window over my shoulder. ‘I’m not ready. There are still… there’s…’

  Again she held out her hand. Small. Resolute. ‘We need to keep moving. There will be time for this when you are safe.’

  You. I noted the singular, but did not press my question. There was something she wasn’t telling me, some thought, some plan she did not wish me to know. This woman was a mystery in many ways, but I knew her well enough to discern the depth of her anger and ill-ease. Anger at me? I deserved it.

  I took her hand, holding my Empathy close. With so many questions and so much doubt it was hard, but I was determined not to connect, not to read. Not yet, not until I had permission to cross that line. I had invaded too many times without invitation.

  While I could hold back from all else, the deep sadness she resonated was impossible to ignore. We faded with it and stepped through the wood into the next room. It had once belonged to my head secretary, a clever and all too ambitious little man who had always dressed rather too finely for a civil servant. No doubt he had found himself another patron.

  This door was locked, too. Outside the storm was attempting to drown the gardens, and beyond the outer palace plumes of dark smoke rose to a grey sky.

  ‘He’s already inside the city,’ Kimiko said, joining me at the window. ‘Shimai put up more of a fight.’

  ‘We wanted a fight in Shimai,’ I said. ‘We needed to demonstrate his power and draw Hana out.’

  ‘Did you plan this attack for him too?’ She asked the question with studied artlessness. ‘How magnanimous you are.’

  I touched my stump to the rippled glass. ‘Your dear brother did not want my help. But my guess is that his plan to get Pikes into Mei’lian w
as of long standing.’

  ‘Do you mean he got men into the city to open the gates for him?’

  ‘It’s possible. Your ancestors built a lot of tunnels. And it isn’t as though Pikes wear their allegiance tattooed upon their foreheads, yes? All they need is an innocent reason for visiting the city, clean papers and a good attack plan for once they are inside. They could even—’

  ‘Stop!’ Kimiko shook her head in slow disbelief. ‘This is not an Errant game, Darius. And you are not Minister of the Left anymore. Let the great men plan their own battles.’

  A slap, though her hands had not moved, had remained balled in tight fists at her sides. The anger. To protest would be foolish, to point out that I had been good at my job, had loved the dance of court politics, would be even more foolish. They were not the words Kimiko wanted to hear.

  ‘We should keep moving,’ she said, turning away from the window.

  Again she extended her hand and I took it. This time there was a flash of fury, of steely vengeance, before the sadness. It had been impossible not to feel, I told myself, but it was a lie.

  On the other side of the wall lay another office and a door not only locked but barricaded. ‘We must be getting close to the round,’ Kimiko said.

  ‘A few more rooms.’

  ‘Is it? I never spent much time in this part of the palace. Princesses don’t have much to do with administration.’

  It was easy to forget that she had once been a princess of Imperial blood. She still had the grace, but the youth was gone from her face leaving lines bred by hardship. ‘This is the last private office,’ I said. ‘There’s an anteroom and a library that has a back stair to the archive vault, but it doesn’t lead out. The main stairs will be our only option.’

  ‘Shall we brave the stairs together then?’ Once again she held out her hand. ‘We can hope Hana’s soldiers are too preoccupied to give a damn about us.’

  Hana’s soldiers. ‘His Majesty may come to regret his choice of bride,’ I said.

  ‘If he lives.’

  ‘If he lives,’ I agreed, and that night in Shimai lived over in my mind. Fire. Noise. Hana had begged and Kin’s face had blistered and burned. Avarice had bandaged my stump well, but I had been shedding pain ever since.

  A distant scream tore me from my memories, its shrill tone sliding into the guttural growl of a trapped animal.

  ‘Otako cannot be here yet,’ I said, failing to keep the alarm out of my voice.

  ‘Katashi, perhaps not, but an Otako, yes.’

  ‘Endymion?’

  She smiled. ‘You’re always sharp. He was arriving when I returned. The opium Hana gave him made him dopey, but it will have worn off by now. That drug has an odd effect on Empaths.’

  ‘Opium?’

  ‘Yes, you know, the brown—’

  ‘I know what it is,’ I snapped. ‘But where did she get it from?’

  ‘I don’t know. Why does it matter?’

  ‘I gave her some,’ I said. ‘I gave her the box I always kept for Malice in case he ran out, and she gave me her word she would give it to him and let him go. Without it he wouldn’t get far.’

  The screaming rose again, then as abruptly as it started, it ceased.

  ‘You mean he’s still here?’ Her stare intensified, seeming to pin me in place. A worm of disquiet wriggled in my gut.

  ‘I have to go back,’ I said.

  ‘Why?’ The word was harsh. Snapped out.

  ‘Because no one deserves to be burned alive.’

  ‘Malice does.’

  Silence. Even the scream had ended and not returned. There was just Kimiko, just the sound of her quick, shallow breaths and the ever-intoxicating smell of her kiri wood scent.

  ‘No,’ I said, trying for a smothering blanket of calm. ‘Malice—’

  ‘Malice destroyed you, Darius,’ she said. ‘He stole your freedom and twisted you and sucked you dry until all you could do was retreat behind that face. And then he marked me and stole my freedom.’ She fiddled with her sleeve.

  ‘Kimiko—’

  ‘I enjoyed killing the Vices,’ she said, not looking at me but out the window where the columns of flame were getting closer. ‘Perhaps I am more like my brother than I thought. Revenge suits me well.’

  The calm was getting difficult to maintain. ‘You killed the Vices?’

  ‘Who else.’ She drew a blade from the end of her sleeve and weighed it thoughtfully. ‘I can kill him before Katashi comes, then you don’t have to worry about him burning alive.’

  ‘I don’t want him dead. He’s my brother.’

  ‘Malice broke you Darius, doesn’t that make you angry? He has hurt everyone I care about and he will just go on doing it until he’s dead. He’s an empty pit sucking in every shred of love and happiness he can but it’s never enough.’

  I reached out my only hand. ‘Don’t do this,’ I said. ‘We can go somewhere he can’t find us.’

  ‘There is no such place. That’s why you’re afraid of him.’

  It was a truth that hurt all the more for having gone unrecognised.

  ‘He will kill you,’ I said.

  ‘Not if he’s suffering opium withdrawal.’

  ‘He will still fight.’

  The blade did not waver. ‘I hope he does. I want to kill him, not just see him die.’

  ‘But why?’ I said. ‘It was your brother that sold you, not mine, and I am the one who lied. Hate me. Hate Katashi. Don’t risk your life to end his.’

  That silence again, more terrible than fury. And when she spoke every word was enunciated with icy calm. ‘I have no life left, Darius. It’s a girl. Endymion told me.’

  I’m sorry, Master Darius, but it was a girl, the woman had said. Lady Laroth has passed on. She is laid out if you wish to see her.

  A girl.

  My legs seemed loath to hold my weight and I dropped to my knees. Tears squeezed through eyes shut tight. I tried to force them back, but they kept coming, kept falling, wetting the dark fabric of her robe into which I buried my face, every gasp of breath full of her smell.

  They had covered my mother in silk and let me kneel at her side. My father had never encouraged tears, but at five years old I had not been able to hold them back. I had cried until I could not see, cried until I could barely breathe, mouth sticky, nose clogged, my whole face awash with grief. No one had tried to stop me. They had let me sit at my mother’s side for hours, let me touch her still face, her pale lips, her brow, her hair, her cheek, let my tears fall on her skin until there were none left to fall. Beside her my baby sister was equally still, her limbs curled and uncomfortable, her head an ugly shape with sparse dark hair stuck in clumps. She had been cool to the touch, all except her tiny hands. They had maintained some warmth, as though somehow my mother was still holding her close.

  Kimiko touched my hair and started to sing as she had often done at Esvar. It was the song of Saki, the daughter of the goddess Lunyia and the mortal man she had given up her divinity to love.

  It ought, perhaps, have made me wary, but grief has a way of swallowing one whole.

  From my hair, Kimiko’s hands ran down my neck. Outside someone started to shout. I could not hear the words and could not feel anything beyond my own self-pity.

  ‘I’m sorry, Darius,’ Kimiko said at last, letting the strains of her song fade to an echo. ‘You will never be happy while he lives. I’m sorry.’

  She gripped my collar. Her hand was hot and her knuckles dug into the side of my neck. Heat. Tension. Silence but for her quickening breath. She gripped the other side of my robe before I could move, and yanked hard. Crossed wrists. Pressure mounted around my throat. The black of her servant’s robe grew blacker still. My tongue felt fat and tingly, my brain sluggish.

  ‘Otakos don’t breed happiness either. This is the way it has to end.’<
br />
  *****

  The smell of reed matting came first. Then small sounds – distant shouting and the crackle of the dry reeds beneath my good hand as I pushed myself up. The room spun into place – the office of an unknown administrator, its screen door barricaded with an upturned table and a pair of sleeping mats.

  Recollection soaked into my mind. Kimiko was gone. It could only have been seconds, but it felt like an age, the world different on this side of waking. Here, shouts echoed through the closed door and a thunderous boom made the whole building shake.

  Here, every word took on a new meaning.

  Otakos don’t breed happiness either. This is the way it has to end.

  ‘This is the way it has to end,’ I murmured, trying to fight memory’s urge to play its awful theatre across my eyes. I had wanted death, but now life danced across my skin, imbued by her touch. If anyone could find a way to stop the curse from taking her, I could, and if anyone could fight it, it was Kimiko. But she had gone.

  Another boom shook the floor. Closer this time, and my heartbeat sped to a sickening pace. We were all running out of time.

  Four steps to the door and the sleeping mats were easy to shift, but the upturned desk would take an able-bodied man to move. Lifting was not possible, even pushing would be difficult, but I knew exactly what Malice would do to Kimiko if he found out she was carrying my child.

  I threw my weight against the side of the desk and it rocked. Another push, then another, shoulder bruising. Then at last it toppled, falling heavily on to one of the sleeping mats and smashing a lap table into a pile of splintered wood.

  The door was locked. No key, but it didn’t matter. Wax paper was thick and strong but it was still only paper, and one of the panels snapped when greeted with my fist. Reaching through I found no key on the outside either. Whoever had barricaded the door must have taken it with them.

  I found I was gripping the doorframe hard, but the passage was empty except for floating dust and the chatter of voices. Stepping back, I slammed my foot into one of the thin crossbars in the door and it cracked. Another kick. Then I rammed it with my shoulder. The door splintered, not enough to escape but it was a start. Despite everything Kimiko had said, I still did not want Malice to die.