The Deathless

by Peter Newman

  Murderkind.

  It is Murderkind.

  Its name is Murderkind!

  ‘Yes, little seed. Very good, very quick. Remember my name, remember me. I promise I will remember you.’ It leaned down to touch its forehead to Sa-at’s. ‘Be alive. Be safe. Be friend.’

  There was a flurry of wing beats, and Murderkind was gone. The Birdkin left soon after, scattering through the many holes, allowing the day to return.

  Sa-at squeezed his eyes against the sudden glare, then a wing moved protectively between him and the sunslight.

  ‘Sa-aat!’ said Crowflies, hopping forward.

  Sa-at smiled.

  A long piece of meat hung from the Birdkin’s beak, fresh and bloody. Sa-at reached for it eagerly and began to suck.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The suns had begun their descent when Chandni got back to the pit. She could still hear the Dogkin howling to each other, and had the sense that they were on the move. Even though she had only been gone for a few minutes, it felt much longer.

  Varg was sitting on the ground, feet dangling in the pit, his broad shoulders slumped. Though he’d managed to free himself, Glider’s sad whine still emanated from inside.

  He turned as she approached, his face cracking with relief. Mud streaked his cheeks, chest, and thighs, and was caked in his nails. She’d worried he’d be resentful for being abandoned but there was no sign of it as he pulled her into a tight embrace.

  ‘I promised I’d come back.’ He made a grunt of acknowledgement and she added, ‘I’m sorry.’

  When they parted his arm seemed reluctant to leave her, settling against her hip, keeping her close. ‘You found him then.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, planting a kiss on Satyendra’s forehead.

  ‘What about Fiya?’

  ‘We don’t need to worry about her any more.’

  He nodded, his eyes going to the bloodstains on her hands, then widening in horror. ‘Are you hurt? Is it bad?’ He spun around as if expecting to see a demon in every tree. ‘Shit. We have to go, now.’

  She looked away, unable to meet his eyes. ‘It’s not mine. It’s Fiya’s. The Wild has already taken what it wants from her.’ The stains on her hands were old, as if they’d been there for hours rather than minutes. ‘I’m fine, really. No cuts, just bruises. You?’

  ‘Same.’

  A silence grew between them, full of unspoken questions and feelings, that Chandni quickly found unbearable.

  ‘I’m so confused, Varg. She seemed genuine. Why take us in, feed us and teach us, if she planned to kill us all along?’

  ‘Dunno, but I reckon we can worry about that later. We need a plan and a place to go before all the suns set.’

  ‘Yes,’ she replied, looking over her shoulder. ‘Fiya said that others would be coming for us, for Satyendra specifically. I doubt we have long.’

  She realized how quickly she’d adjusted to living inside Fiya’s tree and how safe it had felt. They couldn’t go back there now. While it was likely the tree would still accept them, it would be the first place Fiya’s family would look.

  The illusion that she was growing used to the Wild, the feeling that she could cope here, even make a temporary life here, vanished, leaving behind a more familiar sense of dread.

  ‘I’ve had enough of this place,’ said Varg. ‘I say we go back to our original plan and make for Sorn.’

  Chandni nodded. ‘Fiya was too scared to go there, perhaps her family will be too.’

  ‘And that’s where Pari will go to find us.’

  She still wasn’t convinced Pari was coming for them but kept her doubts to herself. ‘What about the Corpseman?’

  ‘I’m hoping it’ll be long gone by now.’

  We’re pinning so much on luck, but what choice do we have? She decided to focus on something more practical instead. ‘How will we get there? I’d struggle to remember the route back to Fiya’s tree, let alone the Godroad or Sorn.’

  Varg made an unconvincing attempt at looking confident. ‘I got a rough idea.’

  There was a polite bark from the pit, prompting them both to look over. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said, ‘we’ll find a way to get you out.’

  Varg frowned. ‘Yeah.’

  In the end they tied Varg’s jacket to Chandni’s cloak and dragged Glider out while the Dogkin did her best to scrabble up the side. It was slow, messy, and despite them telling her to be quiet, Glider made so much noise that Chandni could only hope that Fiya’s family were either deaf or several miles away.

  By the time the Dogkin was out of the pit and on her feet, the colour was leeching from the trees, gold and reds giving way to grey, and Satyendra was fast asleep.

  Chadni and Varg sagged against each other, catching their breath. She barely noticed his smell now, nor the fact that his hand was sweaty as it brushed hers.

  And I must reek of far worse things than sweat! It’s a wonder he doesn’t run screaming into the forest.

  ‘Ready to go?’ he asked.

  ‘Not really. I’m exhausted.’

  Varg nodded agreement.

  She leant into him, letting his chest take the weight of her head. ‘What a strange life this is. I feel like I’ve lived here for years instead of days.’

  ‘Yeah.’ He began to stroke her hair and she tucked a hand inside the back of his trousers to warm her cold fingers.

  ‘Varg, do you think we’ll survive?’

  ‘Dunno. Hope so.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Hang on, there’s something in your hair.’

  She went very still. ‘Is it alive?’

  ‘Nah. At least, not any more.’

  A hundred visions played through her mind, of Spiderkin corpses, Flykin husks and, impossibly, some piece of Fiya. ‘Tell me what it is!’

  ‘It’s a feather. A big black one. Here, I got it.’

  Her head jerked back as he pulled. ‘Ow!’

  ‘Sorry, I can’t get it out. Must be caught somewhere.’

  Another round of howls echoed from nearby. The closest one hadn’t moved but the others were louder, a few coming from behind them, a few more from their left. She had the horrible feeling they were being flanked. ‘Actually, I think I am ready to go now, Varg.’

  ‘Yeah. Me too.’ He let go and started walking. ‘Sorn is this way.’

  Glider sniffed, unimpressed, and pointed her nose in a different direction. ‘Are you sure it’s not that way?’ she asked.

  He paused, pulling at his beard thoughtfully as he looked from one to the other.

  ‘How about you?’ she asked Glider.

  Glider gave an authoritative bark and padded off into the trees. Chandni followed her, leaving Varg to sigh and do the same.

  Vasin stepped out onto the streets of Sorn. It was getting dark and conventional wisdom told him that this was the time to stay indoors. However, he’d decided that he’d much rather face all the horrors of the Wild than spend a moment longer in a room with his mother.

  Thankfully she’d left Lord Rochant alone since her initial attempts to loosen his tongue and, to his amazement, had already drifted off into what appeared to be a pleasant and easy sleep. He knew that when she woke, she would start on Lord Rochant again, and then he would stop her. Somehow.

  This is not going to end well, he thought, and took a sip of honeywine from his flask. The sweetness was welcome though it failed to completely mask the bad taste in his mouth.

  In the distance, he could hear the sound of wild Dogkin calling to each other, coordinating as he would with his hunters, and was glad that they were too far away for him to be the prey.

  Soon, he would have to return to his castle. If Mia and the others hadn’t heard from him by morning, there was a good chance they’d begin a search or even worse, tell the High Lord. He’d hoped his mother would prove equal to Lord Rochant, then they could end this part of the plan.

  And yet she had proved more than his equal. He didn’t doubt that she would break Rochant, and s
oon.

  It was painful to remember how she had been in the days of his first lifecycle. It was from her he’d learned that there was a relationship between the Deathless and their winged armour. ‘The sapphire armour supports you, empowers you. A wise Deathless draws strength when needed but never, ever lets themselves be drawn.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Power is a tool. The hand should direct the tool, never the other way around.’

  He’d nodded, then frowned. ‘I’m sorry, Mother. I still don’t understand.’

  ‘You will.’

  He did. And she had totally forgotten.

  I just don’t know what will be left of any of us when she’s done.

  He wondered if he were being a fool to cling to his ideal of being a Sapphire. Certainly High Lord Yadavendra did not match it, neither did his Uncle Umed, nor Yadva or Gada. Nor even my mother any more. And if he took a good hard look at himself, he knew he was little better.

  Cowards and bullies and lost souls, all following the lead of a madman.

  Though it was a poor substitute for his usual drugs, Vasin took another sip of the wine. The right thing to do would be to take Lord Rochant back with him tomorrow and end this charade. A little voice in his mind reminded him that Rochant had suggested there might be a way out for himself as well, if he took action now, though any deal would doubtless leave him at the other Deathless’s mercy. Was that a price worth paying to be free of worry?

  Would he ever be free of worry again?

  His musings were interrupted by a glow in the darkness, a blue-violet shimmer moving closer in measured short bounds. Sky-legs? Here? He wondered, going closer for a better look. Glowing as he was, the thought of hiding seemed ridiculous. Let’s just get it over with.

  Long before he saw the armour, he’d recognized the aura as House Tanzanite. The flash of crystal he’d seen in the Wild as he’d flown here came back to him. I should have known they were coming here, he thought as he pulled his helmet on. I should have warned Mother.

  He could see them more clearly now as they moved in bouncing strides towards him. Lady Pari Tanzanite. Of course it is. She was using a wooden staff to walk with and one of her wings was missing. There were cracks in her chest plate too. Despite her sociable manner, he’d always suspected Pari to be far more dangerous than she appeared. Perhaps it was the ease by which she conducted herself, a kind of sureness that seemed part of her very being.

  ‘Lord Vasin,’ she called, coming to a stop and inclining her head.

  He gave a slight bow, feeling the protest from his back and shoulders, still sore from his encounter with the Corpseman. ‘Lady Pari of the Tanzanite Everlasting.’

  In many ways, this was the worst of all possible outcomes, and yet the terror he’d felt at discovery had melted away. Apart from the staff, she was unarmed, and she appeared to need it to stay upright. Her body was old, not to mention tired and quite possibly injured. He would be faster than her, and without a wing she couldn’t take to the air, giving him all kinds of interesting attack options.

  ‘Well,’ she said, breaking the quiet that was stretching between them. ‘This is awkward.’

  ‘These are House Sapphire lands. You shouldn’t be here.’

  ‘Really, my dear? Is that your gambit? To be precise, these are Lord Rochant’s lands, which I already have permission to cross, and I wager that if we took a look around we’d find all sorts of things that shouldn’t be here.’

  ‘You won’t be coming any closer.’

  She sighed in a way that made him feel as if he was the one being unreasonable. ‘As a matter of fact I will. The only question is what you’re going to do about it.’

  In the dark, his fists glowed, starlike, as he raised them. ‘I think you already know my answer.’

  ‘Yes, but I always hold out the hope that life will surprise me.’

  She took another half bound forward, using the staff to steady herself. One more of those and she would be on him. He readied himself, feeling his body shift automatically into a combat stance.

  He watched as her knees bent slightly, and copied her. She flicked upright, and he jumped back in response. By the time he realized it was a feint, he’d sailed back through the air five feet. With a snarl he gathered himself to spring, imagining the arc he’d take to come down on her with maximum force.

  ‘Actually,’ she said, holding up a hand. ‘Can we take a moment first?’

  He wobbled awkwardly as he checked his momentum, his fists hovering, uncertain. ‘What?’

  ‘Before we fight. Can we take a moment? I see a bench over there that I’d really like to try. Is that all right? I’ve done a lot of travelling lately and my legs really aren’t up to fighting right now.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘If we fight now, it will be awful, like two Slugkin trying to mate. Can you imagine! Let me catch my breath and we can kill each other in a more dignified fashion.’

  ‘I …’ he trailed off.

  Pari seemed to take his confusion for permission and hopped her way over to the bench where she lowered herself down. It was too low to tuck Sky-legs under, so she stuck them out in front.

  ‘Ahh. That is so much better I can’t even tell you. Perhaps I will commission a new tale for the Story-singers; the woes of my toes!’

  ‘Are you making a joke?’

  ‘I might be. People outside House Sapphire have been known to do that on occasion.’ The exaggerated wink she gave him was so ridiculous, so cheeky, that he couldn’t help but smile.

  ‘Would you like a drink before we fight, Lady Pari?’

  ‘I rather think I would. Would you like to share this seat with me before I beat you to a pulp, Lord Vasin?’

  They looked at each other for a moment and then, despite everything, burst out laughing. For a while it was all they could do, and soon both of them were holding their sides.

  ‘Truly, that was a gift, Lady Pari. Thank you.’ He sat carefully, making sure his wing did not catch her shoulder. Armoured as they were, the bench was snug, but neither of them complained as they passed the honeywine between them.

  Pari held up the bottle to her glowing arm to check how much was left and drank before passing it back to him. ‘I must say, I’m surprised to find you here. This doesn’t really seem your style.’

  ‘Tell me about it.’ He took a long, deep swig from the bottle.

  ‘I have a question for you, Lord Vasin. What are you planning to do if you win?’

  ‘If I win? Have you looked at yourself lately?’

  She looked at the helmet sitting in his lap. The back of it no longer glowed properly, black lines spiderwebbing out from where his head had impacted with the ground. ‘I could say the same to you.’

  ‘I encountered the Corpseman on the way here. It wasn’t pretty.’

  ‘Happens to the best of us.’

  ‘You too?’

  ‘Yes. It wasn’t pretty either.’

  He raised the bottle. ‘I’ll drink to that.’

  And they did, several times.

  ‘Actually,’ said Pari. ‘I’m glad I ran into you because it means I can clear something up that’s been bothering me. You see, I was surprised to run into the Corpseman at all, given that you supposedly defeated it already.’

  Vasin cursed to himself. Why was he talking so freely with a Deathless from another house? Had he learnt nothing? His mother would be livid if she knew. A few half hearted excuses presented themselves in his mind but he let them go.

  ‘The stories are exaggerated. It’s maimed, not dead.’

  ‘That’s interesting.’

  ‘What is?’

  ‘You said, “it’s maimed” rather than “I maimed it”.’

  Damn but she’s sharp. It belatedly occurred to him that perhaps she hadn’t been drinking as deeply as she appeared to be, and that maybe, he was slightly drunk.

  Pari chuckled. ‘No denials, my dear?’

  He groaned inwardly. What was he going to d
o, even if he won, string her up next to Rochant? At best, that presented a temporary solution. Her old body wasn’t going to last long, and there was nothing he could do to stop Pari’s rebirth.

  ‘What do you want?’

  Pari smiled. ‘Not a fight. How about I tell you how I see the situation and we go from there?’

  ‘Fine,’ he replied, taking another swig before remembering he’d meant to stop drinking.

  ‘I suspect you have Lord Rochant hidden here in Sorn. I intend to take him somewhere safe. I also suspect that your intentions are the opposite. I know that a Sapphire Deathless is trying to wipe out Lord Rochant’s line, though the exact reason escapes me. How am I doing so far?’

  ‘Well enough.’

  ‘Now, your being here tonight suggests that you are that Deathless, and yet your behaviour speaks of either the most horrendous underestimation of my abilities, or there being more to this than meets the eye.’

  ‘It’s certainly complicated.’

  ‘Is it? I’d assumed you were either seeking revenge for your mother or you had plans to elevate a new Deathless in Rochant’s seat. Though given what I know of your house, I’d have thought Lord Rochant would be the last man you could afford to lose.’

  He sighed. ‘I haven’t lost him, he’s in there.’ He gestured towards the house. ‘It’s true what you say, though, the Sapphire are a mess. I’m a mess and I don’t know what to believe any more. You want to take Lord Rochant home, go ahead, I won’t stop you.’

  Her lips quirked in surprise, and then she slowly got up. ‘I suspect that’s the best offer I’m going to get. Very well, Lord Vasin, though if you’d permit me one more question, I’d be grateful.’

  ‘At this stage I don’t see that it will make things worse.’

  ‘That’s the spirit. Why are you being so accommodating? A moment ago you were prepared to beat me to death, now you’re all but rolling over and displaying your belly.’

  Vasin sucked the last drops from the bottle. ‘I’ve found my limits, Lady Pari. I thought by doing this I could restore the past, but the more I’ve done, the more I’ve changed, and not for the better.’ He looked at her. ‘What’s the point in winning if we destroy ourselves in the process? There’s no gain replacing one broken wheel with another. No, I’d rather let it go than travel any further down this path. Maybe it will result in my death, but at least I can still die a Sapphire.’