The Deathless

by Peter Newman

  After Lady Yadva had fled the castle, dragging Dil and the shreds of her dignity with her, Taraka had started asking questions. Difficult questions. Pari still hadn’t recovered from her journey, her body worn by travel and ravaged by fever. Putting on a show for Yadva had drained the last of her energy, leaving her weak, unfocused.

  And Taraka knew that too, the bastard!

  A decent man would have let her sleep first. A decent man would have shown kindness, rather than taking advantage of her state. Perhaps it was a compliment of sorts, that Taraka did not dare give any slack when dealing with her. The thought brought little comfort.

  His questions had come thick and fast and she’d struggled to answer them. She couldn’t tell him the truth about her and Lord Rochant Sapphire of course. Relationships between Deathless from different bloodlines were forbidden. It was believed such unions would confuse the ritual of rebirth, allowing abominations to slip into the world. If Pari admitted that she was having an affair with a Deathless from another house, they would cast her into the Wild to be forgotten, and give her Godpiece to another. Nor could she admit to being in Lord Rochant’s castle during his rebirth ceremony.

  So, given the options, she lied, telling Taraka that she had made a discreet visit to one of her settlements to sort out some problems there. However, each of her answers seemed to breed more questions.

  ‘Which settlement was this?’ he’d begun.

  ‘Poise, a remote settlement on my northeast border.’

  ‘Why didn’t you fly there?’

  ‘Why not fly there?’ she’d repeated, as if the question was absurd. ‘This body is too old to fly, and I was hardly going to walk there in my armour was I?’

  ‘Then why all this secrecy? Why pretend to be ill?’

  ‘Actually, I was ill. As Sho often tells me, I forget my own limits sometimes.’

  Taraka would not be put off. ‘You travelled in secret, deliberately. Why?’

  ‘I wanted to see with my own eyes. You know me, I like to be hands-on. If I’d announced a visit I wouldn’t have seen the truth.’

  He’d raised his eyebrows as she said ‘truth’. ‘And if I went to Poise now, I would find people that would remember your visit?’

  ‘No, the villagers won’t have seen me. I did not announce myself.’

  ‘You didn’t? How strange.’

  ‘But that was the point, my dear Lord Taraka: to be unseen. I wanted to know if the reports were true or not. As it happens, they were exaggerated.’

  And he’d smiled at her and asked more questions, often variations of his first ones, prodding at times and details. And she’d smiled back and answered them. It was a strange game to play. They both knew she was lying, but without evidence, what was he going to do?

  What is he going do? She’d lain awake half the night pondering that question.

  It worried Pari that Taraka had been here, in her castle, before she’d got back. He’d had ample time to snoop, talk to her staff, learn things she’d rather he not know … She was sure that the Tanzanite High Lord’s right hand was fond of her in his own way. She was also sure that if he knew even half of what she had been up to in her last two lifecycles, that he would without hesitation petition for her to be ended.

  As she lay there, exhausted but sleepless, she knew that Taraka had been communing with the Tanzanite High Lord, and that, together, they were deciding her fate. Of all the Deathless, he alone had found a way to send coherent messages via a Heartstone, and when Pari wasn’t hating him for it, she was trying to work out the trick. It made Taraka indispensable. And how he knows it.

  Sho’s creaky voice sang outside her chambers, asking for permission to enter. She gave it, gauging her servant’s mood by the manner of his entrance: hesitant yet resolute.

  ‘I could not help but notice my lady has not eaten breakfast.’

  ‘I’m not hungry.’

  ‘Ah. Mmm,’ he said, giving sound but not words to his disapproval.

  ‘Don’t start, Sho. I’m not in the mood. Has Lord Taraka risen yet?’

  ‘Yes, my lady. He requested your company but made it clear that he doesn’t want to rush you.’

  ‘How considerate of him.’ As if I’d dare keep him waiting. As if I could stand to wait to hear the High Lord’s judgement. ‘How is my complexion looking, Sho, any better?’

  ‘It sets off your bruises magnificently, my lady.’

  She pulled back the sheet, and climbed out of bed, wincing at how stiff she was. ‘And my bruises? How are they?’

  ‘Radiant, my lady.’

  ‘Then we’d best start covering them up. I need to be at my most glorious for Lord Taraka.’

  ‘I have a team assembled outside.’

  She paused. ‘I’m going to miss you, Sho.’

  ‘And I you, my lady.’

  They exchanged a look, long, both nodding gently to the other, years of mutual respect crammed into the gesture. Then he clapped his hands and a stream of servants entered, bearing brushes, paints, silks and scented water.

  Two hours later, Pari sat in her audience chamber, resplendent, with Lord Taraka opposite. As he drew out the small talk and called for more wine, Pari tried to read the man. Of all the Deathless, Taraka was one of the most inscrutable, but she had known him a long time. He looks satisfied. The High Lord must have made a pronouncement.

  As if sensing her scrutiny, Taraka looked up from his cup. ‘Did you sleep well?’

  ‘Not as well as I’d like. Sleep always eludes me at the end of a lifecycle.’

  ‘Then, perhaps you need more practice, Lady Pari. I myself slept very well. But then, I always do.’

  ‘Perhaps you would be kind enough to share your secret with me?’

  ‘Perhaps.’ He looked away, and she had the sense that he was composing his next sentence carefully. Here it comes. ‘Have you everything in place for your transition?’

  ‘Yes. My staff have been fully briefed. I’d add that my lands are peaceful, and my hunters vigilant. I do not know who will be assigned to lead the hunts in my absence, but whoever it is will find themselves well supported. The harvest has been gathered and a suitable offering sent to our High Lord. I trust she is satisfied?’

  ‘With the offering, yes. And what are your thoughts on your next vessel?’

  ‘My granddaughter, Rashana. I hear she has performed admirably in her tests and has shown an appetite for investigative thinking.’

  Taraka pulled a face of faint sympathy. ‘Yes, she shows great promise, but the High Lord feels she is needed to serve the house in other ways.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Lord Arkav has become very fond of her and we feel she would be ideally placed to support him during your transition. You know how he struggles when you are between lives.’

  ‘But Rashana is by far the best choice of vessel.’

  ‘Sadly, the High Lord disagrees with your assessment.’

  Her voice rose in anger. ‘She agreed it when we discussed the matter years ago.’

  He gave her a pointed look. ‘Then something must have changed.’

  Keep calm, Pari. ‘Who does the High Lord have in mind? Not her brother, surely!’

  ‘He is a possibility.’

  ‘He most certainly is not! A weak heart that is unlikely to survive the rebirthing ceremony. A habit of not finishing his sentences! I won’t have it. Besides, he’s too old. Even if I could use him, his skin would only last me a decade or two. It’s inefficient.’

  Taraka chuckled. ‘Fear not, Lady Pari. I only said he was a possibility. Actually, the High Lord has decided on Rashana’s daughter, Priti.’

  ‘A child!’ Pari retorted. It seemed like only yesterday that the news of her great granddaughter’s birth had been announced. She knew she should be trying harder to keep her voice level but fatigue was getting to her. ‘The High Lord expects me to live in a child’s body?’

  ‘Not at all. We’d groom her until she was of a more suitable age for the
ceremony.’

  Pari frowned. ‘Rashana is perfect. She’s ready now. This lifecycle only has a few years left in it, five at most. Priti won’t be ready for, what, another decade?’

  ‘It will depend on the girl but my guess would be closer to fifteen years.’ He held up a hand to stave off Pari’s retort. ‘In any case, the High Lord feels a longer span between rebirths will be good for you.’

  The wine glass shook in Pari’s hand as she fought to keep her rage in check. ‘I don’t follow how this will be good, Lord Taraka. Please, enlighten me.’

  ‘It will give you time to reflect.’

  By that he meant that it would give others time to take advantage of her situation. A longer gap between lives would force her to endure the endless dream they experienced between lives for longer. The one that none remembered clearly, but all feared.

  He touched one of the many crystals dangling at his neck, stilling it. ‘It will also keep you out of the way until House Sapphire has settled itself. You can’t be accused of interfering with their business if you aren’t here.’ He tapped the crystal, then released it. ‘And Priti is a much better match, well worth waiting for. She’s sweet, charming, and especially dutiful.’

  This is my punishment. A better match, indeed! The girl is nothing like me in temperament. If I can’t become more humble and obedient like my wet leaf of a great grandchild, there’s a good chance the rebirth won’t work. It’s devilish. Not to mention the fifteen years of exile. Fifteen years out of house politics! I could happily strangle Taraka and the High Lord with those necklaces.

  She took a calming breath. ‘Well, I am humbled that our High Lord has given such a great deal of thought to mine and my brother’s wellbeing. Please pass on my thanks when you see her.’

  ‘Consider it done, Lady Pari.’ He put down his drink and dabbed delicately at his lips. ‘It has been a joy to see you, as always, but I must be moving on. This visit, though delightful, has put me behind schedule.’

  ‘Where are you going next?’

  ‘To see our beloved friends in House Ruby. No doubt they have some grand plan they want to discuss. You know, the last time I was there, they were trying to get our hunters training together. Ridiculous creatures! I dread to think what it will be this time.’

  She forced herself to smile, as if sharing in the joke. ‘It sounds as if a bit of Tanzanite pragmatism is just what they need.’

  ‘I couldn’t have put it better myself.’ Taraka stood, the crystals jangling together as he did so. ‘And what of your own plans?’

  ‘Sedate, you’ll be pleased to hear. I intend to bathe, rest, and get everything in order. Oh, and sleeping. Lots and lots of sleeping.’

  ‘Very wise. I’d say we’ve had more than enough excitement for one lifecycle, wouldn’t you?’ They said their goodbyes and he was halfway towards the door when he stopped and turned back, an impish grin on his face. ‘And thank you for sharing Lady Yadva’s humiliation with me. I can still picture her expression.’

  They both laughed at the memory.

  ‘Exquisite,’ he murmured, bowing one last time to her before leaving the room.

  An hour later, Sho came to find her. ‘He is gone, my lady.’

  ‘Thank the Thrice Blessed Suns! I trust Ami remains tucked away and secret.’

  Sho’s face settled into its usual state of concern. ‘Yes, my lady.’

  ‘Good, see that it stays that way.’

  ‘You’re not planning something … rash, are you? It is just that you promised Lord Taraka you wouldn’t.’

  ‘Sho, you’ve been eavesdropping again!’

  ‘Eavesdrop? No, never that.’ His mock outrage made her chuckle. ‘It is my job to hear everything that happens in the castle, my lady. You yourself taught me that.’

  ‘In that case you’d better shut the door and come closer because I am planning something.’

  ‘Oh no. Does it involve me, my lady?’

  She smiled at him. ‘Of course it does, Sho. All my best plans do.’

  The trees were watching them, Chandni was sure of it. She was also sure that there were things lurking between the trees, and behind the trees, and in the branches.

  She was crouched in a small hollow, Varg squeezed in next to her. It was anything but cozy. The hollow wasn’t quite big enough to fit them both comfortably, forcing them close. Her nose was jammed into his armpit and a root dug into her hip. It wasn’t much better for him; one of her knees was pressing hard into his thigh and he kept muttering something about the position of her elbow.

  Somehow, impossibly, Satyendra was asleep, curled contentedly in her arms.

  They had run for as long as they dared, following the dying light of Varg’s tanzanite, both of them sure that when it went out, the things of the Wild would come. More than once, they had fallen, taking turns to trip or slip. This was what had made them stop in the end: the fear of having an accident and getting cut. Even a small amount of blood spilt this deep in the Wild would spell their doom.

  And so they had opted to hide instead, cramming themselves into the earth, Glider squatting over them like a Birdkin mothering her eggs.

  ‘Hey!’ Hissed Varg. ‘Get your paw off my head.’

  Glider made an apologetic whine and shifted, sending a cascade of dirt down to them.

  ‘Varg?’ she whispered. ‘What’s the plan?’ She felt him shrug, her face rising and falling with the motion.

  ‘Don’t die,’ he replied.

  ‘I’m serious. We have no food, no water, no supplies. We need a plan.’

  ‘I reckon that we should be safe for the night so long as we stay down here. There are plenty of feral Dogkin in the Wild so her scent won’t bring things after us like ours would.’

  ‘All right. So we wait here until dawn. Good.’

  ‘You call this good?’

  ‘Yes, I do. It’s step one of our plan. When it gets light, we can risk travelling. The question is, where do we go?’

  ‘Dunno.’

  ‘What about trying to get back to Lord Rochant’s castle?’ Varg groaned as she continued. ‘If we can get to High Lord Sapphire, we’d be safe.’

  ‘We’ve been over this, Chand. The assassins would kill us before we got anywhere near him. They know where we are and we know that they can disguise themselves as Sapphire guards. It ain’t going to work.’

  ‘I hate to say it but what about trying to get to Tanzanite lands?’

  ‘Too far. And anyway, we’d need to take the Godroad, and there ain’t no point doing that unless we find an escort.’

  She sighed and he laughed. ‘I don’t see what’s funny, Varg.’

  ‘Sorry. It tickles when you breathe into my armpit.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Nah, I don’t think we can get to Pari. If we can survive long enough, might be she’ll come to us.’

  ‘But how? Even if we could find a way to survive out here, how would she know where we are?’

  ‘Pari’s a Deathless. She’s hunted in the Wild since before we were sparkles in our ancestors’ balls. If anyone can find us, it’s her.’

  Chandni took that in, trying not to think too hard about what she could smell. ‘I refuse to accept that our plan is simply: sit and wait for Lady Pari.’

  ‘You got a better one?’

  ‘It’s not that I don’t like the plan, I just don’t like our part in it. While Pari is trying to find us, what are we going to do? And don’t say: “wait”.’

  ‘Ahh … Shit, I don’t know.’

  ‘Can we make it easier for her to find us?’

  ‘I’ve been leaving a trail.’

  She glared into his armpit, appalled. ‘Won’t that lead the assassins straight to us?’

  ‘Maybe. But if they’re able to follow us in here, we’re pretty much fucked anyway.’

  ‘I see. That piece of tanzanite you have, can we use that in some way to signal her?’

  ‘If she’s close, yeah.’

  So, step one: hide in the Wild
. Step two: leave a trail for Pari. ‘What about food and shelter?’

  ‘I’m not much of a hunter, are you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Might be we can forage for this and that.’

  She could not help but notice the gloom in Varg’s voice. ‘Yes, we’ll forage for what we need. And I’m sure Glider will hunt for us too.’

  Varg sighed. ‘We’re fucked.’

  ‘Stop that. Neither of us can afford the luxury of self-pity. We will forage, Glider will hunt. Now what about shelter?’

  ‘I dunno, maybe find a bigger hole?’

  ‘That is not acceptable.’ She thought about alternatives. To build a shelter they would need tools – they had none. Besides, to cut the trees this deep in, and without support, was madness. ‘We have to find somewhere.’

  ‘If there are any decent sized caves or lairs you can bet your little—’

  ‘Varg, that’s enough. I want options from you, packaged in half-decent language, or silence.’

  ‘Right. Sorry. I was going to say we won’t find any lairs that don’t have owners.’

  ‘Then we need some other way to shelter. Do you have any ideas?’

  He didn’t reply.

  ‘What about Sorn?’

  ‘What about it?’

  ‘Think about it, Varg, an attack forced the villagers to flee but that was a while ago now. I bet that if we went there, we’d find places to rest, and even if the food has been taken or rotted away, there will be clothes, equipment, things we need.’

  ‘The fu-sorry – The Wild took that place. Who knows what else we’d find waiting for us?’

  ‘It’s no more dangerous than waiting here, is it? At least this way, we’d have a chance.’

  ‘The ones that fled Sorn, they said they saw –’ he dropped into such a soft whisper that she had to strain to hear the words ‘– the Scuttling Corpseman. It was there.’

  ‘Was there. Was. Surely it will have killed everyone it could find by now and moved on?’

  He grunted, unsure, but she knew he’d do what she wanted. It was just a matter of time. Step three: go to Sorn for shelter. Step four: survive.

  She allowed herself a tight smile. They might be at the edge of exhaustion in the middle of the Wild but now they had a plan. Things were always better once she had a plan.