The Blood of Whisperers

by Devin Madson

  Narrow stone steps led to the next floor and we climbed them quickly. There, the passages were intermittently lit and the rooms in frequent use – storerooms, cellars, a game larder, a silk room, and then, with a scream that pierced the silence, the first sign of life. We froze, pressing flat against the walls. The scream was high-pitched, quivering with panic. Words ran together as a woman’s pleas caught on sobs. A deep, jeering voice cut through her cries.

  I peeled myself from the wall and went to the open door. Inside, a guard stood with his back to the aperture, pressing an unseen woman against a workbench. A jerk of her arm sent a container of pins flying, raining its contents upon the floor. A bolt of crimson cloth followed, unravelling like a stream of blood. The man laughed and untied his belt.

  The woman tried to push him away and I caught a glimpse of her face. Young. Fearful. Her eyes as well as her words begged him to leave her be.

  ‘What a noise you make, girl,’ he said, gripping her jaw in one large hand. ‘Just relax.’

  She struggled to pull free, but he just laughed and bent her over the table.

  Shin grabbed my arm and shook his head. We were running out of time, but what if it had been me in there? Perhaps he couldn’t understand her plight, all of them too influenced by the prick between their legs to imagine her fear. I snatched my arm away and went in.

  The guard lifted the woman’s robe, forcing her legs apart. Intent. He did not hear me, did not see me, did not sense that he was no longer alone.

  With a few silent steps I was behind him. He was a large man, his leather tunic taut across his broad back. I had an instant to work with. Regent’s instincts took over. The neck. It was thick, a pulse throbbing in its sinuous grain.

  The points of my claws touched his throat, cutting into his skin. Soft. Fleshy. His body shuddered. The woman screamed, scrambling off the table, scattering needles and scraps of fabric. The man gurgled, my claws caught in the tangle of his throat. I yanked them free. The blade cut, ripping out the sides of his neck.

  Hot blood spurted onto my hands. It pooled on the floor, the smell such that it cut through every other scent, its cloying fingers reaching down my throat.

  For a moment the man swayed, lifeless on his feet. Shin caught him as he fell, locking his arms around that wide chest and lowering him to the floor. His neck was so mangled a wild beast might have gored him, but I stared at it, determined not to retch and to not be sorry.

  It was then I noticed the guard’s pants were down, his prick still hard. A laugh rose, unbidden. I was on the verge of hysteria, unable to imagine what Monarch would say when he heard the tale.

  But there was approval in Shin’s expression.

  Perhaps you will pass for a man a bit longer. You’ve got balls enough.

  The woman sat huddled in a corner, breathing fast, her sobs catching on the air. She held her arms before her like a shield, the pale fabric of her robe liberally splattered with blood.

  ‘We can’t risk her talking,’ Shin said.

  ‘She is in no state to talk to anyone.’

  ‘You trust her?’

  The woman had clutched her loose robe across her chest. Her shoulders shook and she tried to wipe her streaming eyes with bloodied hands.

  ‘I will not kill an innocent woman,’ I said. ‘We keep moving.’

  ‘As you say, Captain.’ Shin pulled the dead man’s sash free and held it out to me. I wondered what he wished me to do with it, until he nodded down at the thick layer of blood drying on my hands. Taking the sash, I wiped them as best I could, before joining the others in the passage.

  Tension ran high. We could not turn back now and we moved with more urgency, flitting along the passage like ghosts.

  Shin’s knowledge of the city had brought us this far, but now we had only rumour to work on. Servants had talked. The chamberlain’s office was on the lower level they had said, behind a door that was always locked. It had a wall of strong boxes and another wall of keys, and inside one of those boxes was our prize.

  Our progress slowed. It was late. The passages were empty, but with no idea of our exact destination, we had to stop at every door. Wen buzzed back and forth with the oilskin, and we fell into a pattern where Shin and I would check the doors while the others mounted guard. We found storage rooms, serving rooms, kitchens and dormitories. A few of the storerooms were locked and our hopes rose, only to be dashed by the sight of stacks of silk, tea, and incense.

  Hours seemed to pass. We had a close call with a pair of guards and another with a maid, and soon the men began to whisper that we should turn back. I pushed them on, refusing to give up. I would not let this chance slip through my fingers.

  I urged them to try one more door, then another, until we came to one that would not budge. It did not look like a storeroom and I sucked in a sharp breath. Wen oiled the hinges and Kai opened his pouch, disgorging a stack of knives with bent tips. He knelt in front of the lock and began to work, the insistent scratch of his tools loud in the empty passage. Voices came as faint echoes. Steps sounded. No one came, but the waiting wore at my nerves.

  When at last the lock ground open, I put a shaking hand upon the door and pushed. It swung. Stale air wafted out, heavy with the scent of parchment. The room was full of dim, hazy light, a covered lantern illuminating the office of an excruciatingly tidy man. Neat piles of parchment sat squared upon the desk, books were stored by size, and every slot in the scroll case was labelled.

  Our informants had been right. A board of glinting keys hung upon one wall, while at the far end of the room sat more than a hundred strongboxes, all different sizes.

  They had been right about the chamberlain, too. He never leaves, they had said. The corner of a sleeping mat was visible beyond the desk, a spray of greying hair spread across the pillow.

  Shin stepped forward with his knife already drawn, but I shook my head. The keys had no labels, the strongboxes no pattern. This man, snuffling into his pillow, was the only one who could help us if trial and error came to nothing.

  Whether or not he understood, the Pike accepted my silent order and remained beside the chamberlain’s pillow.

  I crept in, past the sleeping man, and stood before the wall of boxes. The keys were not labelled and only a few of the boxes bore names. All we could do was take a key and try it in a lock, praying it would be the right one. When it wasn’t we tried another lock, and then the next, until at last one opened. Tempers quickly frayed. The space was narrow and we had to dance around one another in silence, a mess of damp clothes and reaching arms.

  At least there was entertainment of a sort in wondering what each new box would have to offer. A few contained nothing at all, but others were crammed full of documents, or such luxuries as gold, jewels, and fine robes. One even disgorged the rolled up portrait of a naked lady, another a stack of old linen. I almost bit through my lip when I saw the name ‘Laroth’ upon one large box. I should not have been surprised. He lived here. He was a rich man. And yet it felt so traitorous.

  After what felt like hours in that dusty hell, Wen tapped my shoulder. His eyes were gleaming. The others had clustered around a box, even Shin abandoning his post to catch a glimpse.

  The Pikes let me pass, each man grinning. Inside the strongbox, demurely perched upon a woven mat, was a crown. It was an elaborate gold headpiece, so finely wrought it looked too fragile to move. Jade symbols embellished its rim and each string of fine gold links ended in a tiny jade charm.

  The Hian Crown.

  It was old. Legend said the gods themselves had gifted it to the first emperor, and now it was only used once a year. Emperor Kin would carry it with him to Koi Castle for the Ceremony of Avowal. Without it, his vows meant nothing.

  I ran my finger along the spiky ridges. Despite the apparent fragility there was a strength to it, and I lifted it from its hiding place.

  ‘Thieves!’<
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  As though an invisible wire connected him to the crown, the chamberlain sat up. ‘Guards! Guards! St–’ His words ended in a gurgle as blood bubbled onto his lips. He fell back, sliding off Shin’s knife, but any hope he had not woken the palace died with the sound of running steps. I thrust the crown into Wen’s hands. ‘Take it. Take it! Go. Get out of here, now!’

  ‘Captain?’

  ‘Just do it. Go, all of you. I’ll keep them busy.’ They stared at me and I shoved Wen toward the door. ‘I’m your captain and I’m ordering you to go,’ I said. ‘Now!’

  They moved, each man bolting for the door. Shin did not follow.

  ‘What are you thinking?’ he asked, his lidless eye narrowed.

  ‘That it’s my fault that man wasn’t already dead. I won’t lead my men to their deaths. Go, get out of here.’

  ‘No. I’m with you.’

  I had no time to argue. Two guards appeared in the doorway. They swore at the sight of us, but before they could call for backup, Shin was upon them. He dodged a thrust aimed for his gut as he darted in, catching one with his knee. As the man doubled over, Shin thrust a knife through his throat. Blood sprayed. The second guard lunged. A knife was jammed into his kidney. Kidney. Throat. That was what Monarch had taught me.

  Shin’s blade flashed across the man’s neck. He caught a handful of hair, dragged the head back and slammed it into the wall. It connected with a crunch and the guard slid down, his neck at a horrific angle.

  More shouts echoed along the hall.

  ‘We need to lose them and get out of here,’ I said.

  ‘There are other ways out.’

  Shin didn’t wait for a reply, just darted back into the passage. More guards were coming. I could hear them shouting, hear their steps, and hoped their confusion would work in our favour. Shin strode on, his head tilted as though his ears were finding our way, not his eyes.

  A flurry of footsteps neared. Shin gripped my sleeve and pulled me into a storeroom, his scowling expression briefly visible in the torchlight. The footsteps drew near and he thrust me into the corner, standing between me and the door. So close to him, I could feel the strength in his wiry muscles, taut like Hatsukoi’s string. He was a weapon that was always ready to fire and I couldn’t help but marvel at him as I listened to his steady breathing.

  Guards ran past, no doubt searching for the source of the disturbance. All they would find were dead men.

  ‘Let’s keep moving,’ I hissed to Shin’s unyielding form.

  He grunted agreement and we were off again. At the next corner there was no doorway to hide in, and a pair of guards were left bleeding out upon the floor. Another came running down a narrow stairwell, crashing right into me. I hit the wall, cat claws scraping stone. A grunt, and hot blood sprayed into my hair and down my neck. The guard was already dead and I ripped off my blunted cat claw.

  The whole palace was alive with noise now, shouts echoing along every passage. The narrow stairwell was our only option.

  Shin stepped forward. ‘I’ll go first.’

  ‘Shin–’

  He rounded on me, his lidless eye inches from mine. ‘I’ll go first,’ he repeated. ‘This is no job for a woman.’

  His words hit me like a slap, but he was already turning away, already disappearing around the sharp bend in the stairs. I ran after him. There was a muffled cry from above and something, or rather someone, hit the wall.

  ‘Watch that one,’ Shin said. ‘You’ll have to step over him.’

  I did so, hearing a burbling whimper in the dark.

  At the top of the stairs we found ourselves on the main floor of the palace. Shin slid the screen doors and hesitated. The uncertainty was so unlike him, and the way his eyes darted the length of the long passage was more troubling still. A bolt of panic threatened to overpower me, but I suppressed it with an effort. We were not dead yet.

  From the passage an arch led into the gardens. Vines twisted up its columns, filling the air with the smell of summer flowers. And rain. Beyond the archway it swept across the gardens, seeming to bar our way. There were other doors to other places, but inside we would soon find ourselves trapped.

  We’re not dead yet. We’re not dead yet.

  Footsteps sounded on the stairs.

  ‘Go, quick.’ Shin ripped aside a trailing vine, and together we ran into the night.

  Rain hit my face like dozens of needles. It poured fast and heavy from the night sky, bending boughs beneath the force of its anger.

  ‘Where are we?’ I shouted over the storm.

  ‘The gardens. We’ll find a way out. Keep going.’

  The garden was almost indistinguishable through the rain. Lanterns lit the main paths, winding between ornamental trees, but all I could see was the shape of Shin ahead of me. A lit colonnade joined the outer palace to the inner and it seemed to float, so dark were the gardens around it. Shin kept away from it, turning instead down the darkest paths. The inner palace was the home of Emperor Kin, and it rose ahead of us now, like the prow of a ship pitching up out of the gardens.

  The inner palace. It seemed to grow in size with every step, and against my wrist the vials were ice-cold.

  Tishwa.

  Shin veered away down another path, but I ran on, drawn toward the winged roofs of the inner palace like a moth to flame. We were as good as dead. They would torture us when they found us, break our bodies upon the rack even after we had spilled our secrets. If I was going to die, I would go with Kin’s life on my hands.

  I threw myself into the shadows of the inner palace, touching the wet stones with my fingertips. Around me, chains hung from its wide roof, making music from the storm.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  It was Shin, standing away as though unsure, his wiry frame lashed with rain.

  Breathless, I said: ‘Shin, this is the emperor’s palace. We could end this right now.’

  ‘Too many guards.’

  ‘Not if they’re all out looking for us.’

  ‘Not all of them.’

  He pointed to where a pair of legs stuck out from the lit colonnade. Shin crept closer and I followed, excitement bubbling in my chest.

  ‘He’s alive,’ he said, pressing his fingers to the man’s throat. ‘Knocked out.’

  ‘Is someone trying to help us?’

  Another grunt and Shin’s eyes darted toward the open doors. The chill of the vials burned into my skin and I could hear Malice’s voice. You want the throne you take the throne, but a dead man won’t fight you for it. Kin had taken the throne from my family. It was time to take it back.

  ‘Find a way out,’ I said, shaking the rain from my hair like a dog. ‘I’m going in.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘For the emperor,’ I hissed. ‘Get out of here.’

  Shin snatched my arm. ‘That’s a death sentence. What are you thinking?’

  ‘Not if there aren’t any guards.’ I looked down at the man unconscious at my feet and thought of Darius. Was he helping me?

  My wet hand slipped through Shin’s fingers and I turned, stealing up the stairs beneath a string of sopping lanterns. The main hall of the inner palace was bright, dozens of lanterns winking from post and string. Stairs rose to a balcony bounded in exquisite fretwork, before more stairs and another balcony, a pair of metal lanterns illuminating each, suspended by blackened chains. There were no guards, and not a single sound beyond the roar of the rain.

  Shin followed me. ‘We have to get out of here, now,’ he said. ‘You’ll be dead if you go any further.’

  ‘There are no guards, Shin, we’ll never get a better chance. He might not be alone now, but all we have to do is hide somewhere and wait. He has to sleep sometime.’

  I didn’t wait for a reply, but took the stairs two at a time, felt-clad feet leaving puddles on the worn wood. Everywhere cr
imson silk hangings softened the old palace, painted paper screens giving shape to the vast spaces.

  Shin joined me at the top of the stairs. There, a dozen guards lay as though they had fallen asleep, patterned light shining through the fretwork and onto their faces. Shin rolled one of the guard’s heads with his foot, snapping a string of drool. ‘They might as well be dead,’ he said. ‘This isn’t good.’

  The clack of wooden sandals sounded in the lower hall, echoing above the drumming rain. I glanced over the railing. Shadows danced below, but there was no sign of life.

  ‘It seems your helper didn’t get them all,’ Shin said, drawing a bloodstained knife from his sash. ‘Go. I’ll get this one.’

  Silent steps took him to the stairs and he crept down them, ghost-like, his weapon a mere extension of his hand.

  I moved into a shadowed corner where thick wooden pillars hid me from the stairs. There were two doors off the landing, and another set of stairs rising still further toward the heavens and the sleeping form of Emperor Kin. Should I push my luck? Or find somewhere to hide until morning?

  Footsteps sounded on the stairs. I sucked in a breath. Shin would never make that much noise. Those were wooden sandals.

  ‘Hana?’

  The voice was low, hardly more than a whisper, but I could never have mistaken it.

  Darius.

  ‘Hana? I know you’re here.’

  Darius the all-knowing. I would have to take the chance on his allegiance. ‘What do you want?’ I said.

  A slow step came across the floor as he followed the sound of my voice. ‘I can’t let you kill him.’

  I leant back against the pillar. ‘Oh yes? Going to stop me, are you?’

  ‘If I have to. You would die trying, and I swore an oath to keep you–’

  ‘Alive, yes,’ I snapped. ‘You mean still breathing, even if I’m dead inside.’

  He appeared around the pillar, his beautiful face hardly changed by five years, though a nest of fresh cuts marred his cheek. ‘Dramatic,’ he said. ‘Now stop arguing and get out of here. I’ve cleared the way. Your friend is waiting.’