The intestines slid back into the wound and the gash sealed, leaving a small, pink scar. The blood vanished, soaked into the woman’s abdomen. The cries stopped and the commander’s breathing slowed to a peaceful rhythm. Null removed her hands and smiled. She left Beda to sleep on the brown and white rug on which Null had found her.
Null pushed open the door to the throne hall. Because of the deep shadows the chandeliers cast across the floor and up the walls, she had never liked this room. Tonight, another shadow hung from the chandelier. His head hung limp. Candle wax dripped onto his shoulder and down his waistcoat to the floor. His feet swung back and forth above her head, which was just like Mr. Goodall; always moving, always busy.
Another man, wearing the black and white uniform of the Old Guard, lay on one of the two long dining tables that stretched the room’s length. Two knives had sprouted from his eye sockets, and paint pooled beneath his yellow hair.
Across the room, on the floor beneath the king’s throne, Rin Tepa held her sleeping son. His throat had been painted too, and red stains covered the front of his coat. The queen seemed not to mind her son’s slovenly appearance. She rocked back and forth soothingly, with a hand holding Erin’s hair. Her eyes were bloodshot. His were empty.
“Null,” she said. Her voice was gruff, smothered by sobs. “I was too late.”
Null thought to answer, but strangely, she had nothing to say. She knew that was wrong, because she liked the king, but her mind was silent. As tears patted on the fabric of her dress, Null realized that she was crying. She did not understand why. She had failed the king, should it not be he who cried?
“I felt their deaths,” the queen said. “I felt them dying, all over the city. I felt their auras vanish. But it has been so long since I have felt one of us die. I did not recognize what it meant. I thought maybe it was my own magic failing. Or that… perhaps it might have been that thing of violation I had felt from the west… I-” The queen stopped, swallowing between strangled gasps. She wiped her nose with a sleeve. “I didn’t know what it was until it was too late. Not until he was gone. I’m going to kill him, Null. The High Cleric. He is the one who did this. He has killed my son.”
Ringing laughter echoed through the chamber; a loud cackle, riddled with the feel of disease and madness. A woman’s voice spoke from the shadows. “Do not give Grandfather credit for my deeds.” Dressed in an orange, tattered dress, the woman appeared from nowhere, standing behind the dead messenger.
Queen Tepa dropped her son and scrambled to her feet. “Tabetha,” she hissed. The queen sidestepped toward Null slowly, as if fearing to show her back to this mysterious woman. “Null, get behind me.”
Null frowned. She did not understand. Too much had happened this evening, and… something whispered that her thoughts weren’t right. She felt the same way as when she dreamt the teaching dreams. But this was not a dream. And she didn’t see what it was that she was supposed to learn.
The strange woman leapt onto the table, sniffing the air. “Atep?” the woman said. She seemed confused. “You look different. Why do you look different?”
The queen met Null in the room’s center. She grabbed Null’s wrist and pushed Null behind her. “Do not stray,” she whispered. “I cannot protect you if do not stay close.”
“I could not feel your aura before,” Tabetha continued. “Where was it? Where did you put it?”
“I hid it, woman.”
“Hid it? But that is my secret. No one else knows. No one else.” She pointed to Erin. “He didn’t know. No one knew. Why not teach him?”
Queen Tepa shook her head. “I couldn’t,” she said. “Gods, I couldn’t.”
“Yes,” Tabetha agreed. “Too weak. Very weak. Unsatisfying.” Tabetha sniffed, her nose pointed into the air like a hound. She dropped her chin and pointed at Null. “But not that one,” she murmured. “She can use the birthright. She knows what it is.” Tabetha cocked her head and smiled. “Is she a gift?”
“I have no gifts for you, blooder,” Tepa said.
“No gifts? But I am Slayer. And I am your cousin. We are family. A gift is good. It is the right thing to do.”
“We are not family.” The queen’s voice was barely above a whisper. “You have murdered my son.”
“Murdered your son?” Tabetha asked. She broke into disjointed laughter. It sounded as if she had choked on her own tongue. “Yes… Yes, this is good. Like that Alchemist bitch did to mine. Sybil was supposed to protect him! Supposed to teach him! That makes this good, see? A fair trade. You can suffer with me. You can be like me. And then I can kill you.”
“You will not kill either of us.”
Slayer laughed. “Notkill. That is not a word.” Light flashed on the table and Tabetha vanished. She reappeared on the throne’s dais, crouched before Erin. With a hand beneath his chin, she lifted the king’s head.
“Do not touch my son!”
Tabetha turned her head and smiled. Several of her teeth were missing. She lifted her hand from Erin’s neck. She sniffed the blood on her fingers before licking them clean. “You are weak, Atep Rin. I came to you. Do you remember? I asked you to join us. Me and Silt. And all the others. You turned me down. But now, he is back. Silt has returned and I am Slayer. We will be together. Finally, we will be together. This time… this time, we will have you.” Another light flashed. Boots landed on wood as Slayer reappeared on the long table behind Null. Queen Tepa whirled, keeping Null behind her.
Tabetha cocked her head. “Why do you look different?” she asked again. “I do not complain. He always called you pretty. Just like Tin.” The woman’s voice became harsh with the final words, biting, shrill, and angry. “He wanted you just like he wanted Tin. And I killed her for it. I killed her in front of him, to prove that I was better. I would have killed you too… But the other one. Where is the other one? Where is Kalec? ‘One Rin is never far from another,’” the madwoman said. It sounded like a quote.
A chill bit at Null’s waist. Queen Tepa held a hand behind her back. Blue mist danced around her palm.
“I would not tell you even if I knew,” Queen Tepa said. She threw her hand forward, and the mist flew. It spread and split into a million little tears. Light flashed and Slayer vanished. The droplets peppered the wall, leaving holes where they struck.
Null felt a boot tread on her cheek before she lost her balance. Slayer hung from Rin Tepa’s head, her legs wrapped around the queen’s hips. She pawed at the queen’s face and yanked her hair. The skin pulled away in splotches, and Slayer yelled, victorious, holding gobs of hair, skin, and makeup above her head.
“A mask,” Tabetha shouted. “I knew it! I had hoped. I knew!” Her voice fell to a snarl. “I am going to spoil your pretty face, cousin.”
Null watched the scene as she lay on the floor, rubbing her face. Her vision seemed blurred, her mind felt as if something had been… shaken loose. Restored.
Null glanced to the madwoman’s outstretched hand. The woman had spoken true. Between her fingers, Tabetha held an unusual skintight mask coated with makeup, and a bun shaped wig.
Null blinked, hoping to clear her vision. The mask made no sense to her, but she suddenly remembered everything; the two mages in the courtyard, Beda, the dead servants in the halls. What had been wrong with her? How had she not realized the trouble around her?
Null looked to the queen. Shoulder length, black hair framed Rin Tepa’s youthful face. She looked no older than Null, her face smooth and unfreckled. Only her brown eyes held the same familiarity of the face Null had always known.
Rin screamed and grabbed Tabetha’s arms. With a ferocious yank, she bowed and threw Tabetha from her back. Slayer slammed onto and then rolled across the tiles, hissing as she went. With hands glowing blue, Rin Tepa leapt on her, just as Slayer tried to stand, driving the madwoman back to the floor. Tepa drove a fist into Tabetha’s back and Tabetha screamed as the blue mist ate into her flesh. The queen struck again and Slayer writhed beneath her touch, her bod
y shaking and her arms flailing behind her back, desperate to gain a handhold on her assailant. The queen’s hands came away, and black burns marred Slayer’s exposed flesh.
Queen Tepa dropped low, her hands driving toward the woman’s neck for another onslaught. As she did so, Tabetha threw back her head and smashed it into Tepa’s skull. The queen stumbled backward, her grip broken from the woman who’d called herself Slayer. As the queen pulled her hands away from her face, a small black dot tipped the end of a crooked nose. Blood ran from her nostrils.
Null didn’t know what to do. Mycah had said not to kill, and even if she could, she knew of nothing that might stop this woman without hindering the queen also.
Tabetha rolled away and regained her feet. She vanished in a flash of light, and again, wood pounded. Null’s eyes followed the sound to its source; Tabetha stood on the table, pulling the knives from the messenger’s eyes. The ends dripped fluid as the madwoman tossed them at Rin Tepa. The queen dodged the first, but the second ground deep into the queen’s thigh. She moaned as her knees buckled.
As Tabetha threw herself at the queen, Null panicked. She charged, and rammed into Slayer’s side, knocking the madwoman to the floor. As the woman fell, Tabetha’s hand grabbed Null’s collar, pulling Null down atop her. Scrambling to catch herself, Null’s outthrust elbow smacked into Slayer’s teeth. The madwoman spat blood as she loosed her grip on Null’s collar. With the grip loosened, Null rolled away, kicking the woman in the hips as she fled. But Tabetha’s hand shot out like a coiled snake, grabbed Null’s ankle, and held it like a vise. Null kicked harder, aiming now for the woman’s face, but to no avail; the woman’s fingers did not loosen. Null racked her brain for something that would stop the woman, but Mycah had never taught her to fight. Except…
She had only one idea, the idea Mycah had suggested as he left, and she thought it might work.
Null kicked her other foot, and the foot struck Tabetha’s hand. The hand spasmed and Null was free. She scooted away from the madwoman, focusing her thoughts on the spell Mycah had taught her. The deep shadows along the walls flickered and disappeared, replaced by dancing lights in every color. The light coalesced and Mycah’s image stood beside her, his curled moustache in the colors of the rainbow. Tabetha glanced at Mycah’s form, seeming more confused than worried.
“Who are you?” Tabetha hissed. “What do you want?”
Null had no way to make the image answer the woman. She had thought that it might scare Tabetha to see the arrival of another mage, but how would the woman know? She didn’t know Mycah, so why would Mycah frighten her? So stupid, Null panicked, but then another thought struck her. She knew a man that had scared herself.
As Null focused her magic, another figure appeared across from Mycah, this one in the shape the man wearing the owl mask, this one in the shape of the man whose deflection of the fireball had nearly killed her.
Upon seeing the masked man, Tabetha shrieked.
“Grandfather?” Tabetha moaned. “Why are you here? What do you want? Get away! These ones are mine!” Tabetha gasped as if startled by her own words. “I mean…” Her voice lowered, soothing and apologetic, with a hint of desperation. “I have been a good girl, Grandfather.” Tabetha’s head nodded. “Yes, yes a good girl. There is no reason to be angry. There is no reason to leave me behind.”
The madwoman paused, nodding her head vigorously as if the masked illusion was replying to her, but it wasn’t. It was just a fake. Slayer mumbled something incomprehensible, and suddenly, her nodding turned to a vehement no. “No, No! They lie to you, Grandfather. These hags lie. I have done nothing of the sort. I have been a good girl.”
Slayer scooted away, slowly, as she mumbled to the owl man.
Feeding the birthright into the long bench behind Slayer, Null formed another image: the image of the man she had seen stealing Dydal’s text.
Slayer bumped into the long bench and her head shot up to look at the imaginary man standing over her. “Rift!” she whined. She leapt to her feet and turned to face him. “I did not kill Tin,” she shrieked. “Atep Rin lies. I did not kill your daughter! Why? What do you mean, why would she lie? Because… because it was her!” – Slayer pointed to Queen Tepa – “She is the Butcher’s get. It is in her blood. She killed your daughter.”
Again, Tabetha paused, staring at the illusion she called Rift, shaking her head as if denying what the creature said.
“No,” she cried. “No. No. You must believe me, Rift. Why would I harm Tin? She was my closest friend.” But the image was silent. Whatever voices Slayer heard resided in her mind.
Null’s plan was working. The image of Mycah stared on to no effect, but the madwoman knew these others, and she feared them. As Slayer backed away, her hands shielding her face as if she expected Rift to leap at her, Null gathered the magic for another attempt. She placed the final figure toe to toe with Slayer. As the man appeared, Tabetha released her most devastating moan yet. Tears streamed down her face as she stared at the image of the young man who had saved Null’s life; the young man with the flat nose and black hair.
“No,” Tabetha said. “Silt. You are with them? How could you do this to me? I loved you, Silt. Not again. My Silt, not again. I am the one you love. Why would you choose to help them? What about our son? What about the child we had together?”
The figure she called Silt met her gaze without speaking. With each word Tabetha spoke, the farther Null twisted the man’s face into its recusing scowl. Slayer seemed to think these men would disapprove, so why not make it so? Tabetha took a step back, and Null forced the image to follow.
Tabetha recoiled backward as the man followed her. Her hands found her face. Her fingers dug into her flesh. “My dear Silt,” Tabetha cried. “My Silt.” She pointed an accusing finger at Null. “Why would you choose her over me? Why would you choose Tin?” Her cries were pathetic, filled with heartfelt abandonment. Null almost felt bad for the woman.
“Well why would anyone want you?” the queen asked. “You’ve always been a wretch, Tabetha.”
Slayer’s gaze shot to Tepa, then back to the image of Silt. “No,” she said.
“It’s true,” Rin Tepa said. “You know the whole family laughs at you. Tiny Tabby, they call you, who’ll never be a god because she’s just too weak. Remember the years I was apprenticed to your mother, Tabetha? Remember how well Tyrena treated me? Remember how much attention she gave me, instead of you? Even your own mother thought you weak.”
Despite the queen’s insults, Slayer’s gaze didn’t break from the image before her. “Don’t say that, Silt,” Tabetha whined. “It’s not true. Mother always loved me best. See what I’ve done? I’ve taken your role now. I’m Slayer. I’m better. I’m not weak. Aren’t I good enough for you?”
“Then why did he leave you, Tabetha?” the queen asked. “Why did they all leave you?”
Tabetha’s head whirled to face the queen. “They did not! They said I could come! They wanted me to. But I said no. No, I couldn’t. I have to wait. I have to wait in Trel, until that bitch Sybil comes back. I have to kill her. She took my son. She took my Gemm!”
“Go with them?” the queen laughed. “Tabetha, you are the reason they left. Look at them. They hate you. Even your precious Silt.”
As the queen spoke, Null’s illusions moved of their own accord. The one of Mycah circled on Slayer’s left, the masked man, the one Tabetha thought was her grandfather, approached on her right. The four surrounded her, and as they looked to close the circle, Tabetha turned and ran. A fifth image blocked her escape: that of a young woman, with dark skin and a stern face.
“Mother,” Tabetha gasped. She leapt back, and turned, but her grandfather stood before her. She whirled again, spinning in circles to meet each face, one after the next. “No, I didn’t do it,” she whined. “I didn’t do it, please, Mother. Just wait until Sybil comes back. Wait with me. You hate her too, I know you do. That is why you built the chapel on her grounds. To scorn her. That’s wh
at you told me. You hate her too!”
Miraculously, the image of the dark-skinned woman spoke, her voice echoing like the vibrations of a tin can. “No, daughter. I do not hate her. I hate only you.”
Tabetha swung her arms for her mother’s face, but as her hands passed through the illusion without purchase, the madwoman’s flailing became more frantic. Rather than see it as a fake, her failure to touch the image seemed to frighten her even more. Her gaze darted from corner to corner, as if looking for an escape from the images as they stepped closer and closer. She whined, her arms still thrashing, and then she stopped, as if frozen by fear.
A white light burgeoned and the madwoman vanished. Without Tabetha’s cries to fill the chamber, the lack of sound seemed unnatural.
With the quiet, Null knew not what to do. She thought the woman was gone, but she couldn’t tell.
“You can let the images fade now. She’s gone.”
Too tired to stand any longer, Null’s legs collapsed. She let the images fade, and they vanished one by one; first Mycah, then Rift, then Dydal. The image of Tabetha’s mother remained a moment longer, and the queen stared at it, as if studying a statue of an old friend. Rin Tepa shook her head, and then the thing vanished.
Scooting to the nearest table, Null leaned on the bench to catch her breath.
The queen turned and walked to Null’s side.
“You did well, Null.” The queen offered her a hand up, but Null stared into the face of a woman she didn’t know.
“What are you?” Null asked.
Queen Tepa’s heart-shaped, youthful face sank, her pale but rosy cheeks hollowing. She looked mournful, not for the death of her son, but for what looked to be a feeling of guilt and self-recrimination. When she spoke, her voice was quiet, her eyes turned away.
Death's Merchant: Common Among Gods - Book One Page 66