The Blood of Whisperers

by Devin Madson

  Regaining my bearings, I could see the second wall rising ahead of us. A compound of artisans’ quarters stood between the two, lantern-lit and humming with sleepless hearts.

  Men were coming.

  Kimiko stepped forward onto the narrow path, and I snatched at her sleeve. ‘Stop,’ I hissed. ‘Someone is coming.’

  Grabbing hold of her arm, I pulled her back against the wall. Her small body tensed, and the sweet smell of her hair made my mind wander where it had no right to go.

  Footsteps approached. I sucked in my breath as two guards came around the corner, talking in low voices. I tried to keep my Empathy close, tried not to listen, but with every step they drew closer.

  ‘The Monster?’ One of them laughed. ‘I heard he’s leaving. Good riddance, I say.’

  ‘What do you suppose he did?’ the other asked. ‘They’ve always been so happily married.’

  His companion sniggered and his footsteps brought him closer. They were going to walk right past us. I had to pray the shadows were deep enough, pray they had no reason to look our way.

  ‘You think it goes that far? I’ve always thought Lord Laroth a bloodless man.’

  Lord Laroth. I heard the name and wanted more. What did they know of him, the emperor’s right hand man?

  ‘Did you feel that?’

  Their footsteps halted.

  ‘Feel what?’

  ‘Like a… weight.’

  ‘A weight?’

  ‘You know, like the air was touching me.’

  His companion started to laugh.

  ‘It’s not funny. You know there are ghosts here. They say the ghost of Emperor Tianto walks these grounds. I wouldn’t want him creeping up behind me.’

  We cut off his head and stole his castle. Then his empire. Oh gods, I don’t want him creeping up behind me.

  I tried to pull my Empathy back, but it was too late. I could feel eyes turning toward me, drawn by my intrusion.

  ‘Who’s there?’ the man demanded. ‘I know you’re there.’

  ‘Shivatsa,’ Kimiko hissed. I felt the sadness an instant before the pain. It covered my back, stinging like I had fallen into icy water.

  Idiot can’t keep to himself. Yes, I’m talking about you, Endymion, I know you can hear me. That guard felt you and you didn’t even have to touch him. After this, I hope I never have to touch you again.

  ‘What are you talking about? There’s no one there.’

  The voices sounded far away, muffled.

  ‘I tell you they were there!’

  ‘And just disappeared into the wall? More of your ghosts?’

  ‘Would it be any wonder? Do you know how many men died here?’

  ‘Stop getting morose. The general doesn’t care about ghosts, only rebels. Let’s go.’

  There were no more words, just the strange stifled roar of the stone. Every inch of my skin was beginning to prickle, to itch, but I could not move my arm without more pain scything through me. What would happen if Kimiko let go? Would the stone close around me? Would it slide down my throat and fill my body? She hated me enough to do it.

  Back in the thin air, I shivered. Kimiko let go. The guards had gone. ‘Any more?’ she whispered.

  I barely needed to let my Empathy wander. There were men on the walls, but down here we were alone. ‘No.’

  She didn’t wait for me, but set off around the edge of the courtyard, keeping to the shadows of each workshop. Strange smells danced on the air – paint, wood shavings and dye, but there was no light and no sign of life. I followed, and all too soon we stood before the next wall. Kimiko held out her hand, but I didn’t take it.

  ‘You hate me,’ I said, my voice low.

  ‘Not enough to leave you in the wall. Come on. Katashi is waiting.’

  The second wall seemed easier. Perhaps it was thinner, or Kimiko moved more quickly. Whatever the difference, the pain shuddered its way through my body and was gone, leaving me once again breathing clear air.

  Katashi scowled from the shadows, his face lit by scratches of moonlight. We were in a pleasure garden. Water trickled past in a man-made brook and blossom trees leant muted colour to the night. Rising above us the curved roofs of the Keep were silver in the moonlight, crimson flags barely rippling.

  Kimiko stepped toward the brook, but Katashi gripped her arm. She looked up into his face, questioning, but he just shook his head. He did not need to speak, his whole body uttering the words his lips could not. Too dangerous.

  A derisive sneer turned Kimiko’s lips, and ejecting a sharp stab of despair, her hand slipped from his as though made of water. A step to the wall and she was gone.

  He looked after her, scowling, but he could not call her back.

  Guards? Katashi mouthed.

  My Empathy never lied. There were four on the wall behind us and three in the garden. I held up fingers and he nodded, before stepping away from the wall.

  I followed, trying to float across the ground as he did, disturbing neither stick nor stone. He crept, half crouched in the shadows, with Hatsukoi like an extra limb upon his back. Moonlight flickered through branches, touching him like silver stripes, while beneath our feet a carpet of petals cushioned every step.

  A tree-lined path led to a small pavilion, and at its edge Katashi stopped. Side by side we stood at the moonlight precipice and I let my Empathy flow, highlighting figures in the dark. We were surrounded. Guards patrolled both walls and the Keep ahead. Two moved through the far end of the garden while another waited ahead.

  I held up one finger and pointed. Katashi nodded, and crossing the path together, we slipped back into the shadows, our soft leather shoes stepping soundlessly over moss-covered stones. The looming Keep watched our progress with glowing eyes as, one after the other, we crept through garden beds, crushing clumps of fragile anemones beneath our feet. Their pursed petals would never open again.

  The guard did not see us. He stood perfectly still, one hand resting on a stone lion while he stared out at the garden, the babble of water and the call of night birds lulling him to something like a standing doze.

  Katashi pressed a finger to his lips. A breeze caught loose strands of his dark hair and I could see him marking a path with his eyes, every stick and every blade of moonlight shaping his way. In his hand a long dagger, on his brow a heavy crease. Leaving me crouched in the shadows, he stalked across the soft ground, animal in his grace.

  The guard did not move.

  Katashi struck fast. His hand clamped the man’s mouth, wrenching him back. With a flick of his wrist the Pike drove his dagger into the guard’s kidney and yanked it out. Distance alone saved me from agony. The pain was quick, blinding. Katashi slid the blade in through the neck and ripped it out through the throat. Blood sprayed, peppering the ground and the face of the stone lion that watched, impassive.

  The guard jerked, blood spurting sluggishly from his mangled neck. Katashi held him as he thrashed, held him until his legs no longer kicked and he fell quiet. Then he prised his hand from the dead man’s lips and lowered him to the ground.

  I could not move, could only watch as Katashi cleaned his dagger on the guard’s red sash before he returned across the shadowy ground. ‘Any more?’

  ‘No,’ I said, touching my neck to be sure it was still intact. ‘Nothing before the Keep.’

  Katashi strode on, excitement pouring off him. He knew where he was going, climbing the rising ground to where a line of willows edged the moat. There he crouched beneath the trees, joining the reeds and shadows gathered beside the still water. The Keep towered above us, its foundation rising from the water like a sheer cliff, its roofs curved like wings.

  Across the moat a short wharf jutted from the Keep’s lowest level, lapping at the water like a tongue. Two guards stood bathed in the light of a single flambeau, its fire casting gold ribbons across
the water, reaching toward us like fingers. We could go no further without being seen, but here we were close enough to hear the guards’ low talk and smell the sour stench of the moat water.

  Katashi slid Hatsukoi from her holster. ‘Only two?’ he asked, his breath warm against my ear.

  Again I let my Empathy wander at his bidding, bringing back nothing but a quiet boredom. I nodded.

  ‘Could you hit one from here?’

  I considered the shot. This bow had not the range or power of his, but I had trained with a lighter weapon and knew I could do it. Yet, however much I might pride myself on my skill, I had never used it to harm someone without cause. These men had done nothing to earn my ire.

  Katashi regarded me with raised brows, the shadows of willow fronds shifting upon his face.

  ‘If you can think of a better way, I’m listening,’ he said, his warm breath hissing in my ear. ‘But there won’t be an easier. I was idealistic once. I knew they could not kill my father. He was a sworn Emperor of Kisia and had done nothing to earn such hatred. Right up until the moment the headsman lifted the axe I knew they could not do it.’ He moved away, leaving the side of my face cold. Taking an arrow from his quiver he handed it to me. ‘I was wrong.’

  I took the arrow. Father Kokoro had said something similar the night he ordered my arrest. Sometimes we do things because they are right, he had said as the guards led me out. But sometimes we do things because we must.

  I reached for my bow.

  ‘The one on the left is a clearer shot,’ Katashi whispered. ‘He’s yours. But we have to do this at the same time and you can’t miss. If only one of them dies the other will have time to raise the alarm.’

  My well-practised hands nocked the single arrow, and I nodded. There was hardly a breath of wind. Close to my ear came the sound of Hatsukoi’s tightening string.

  ‘On three then,’ Katashi said. ‘One...’

  The bow quivered in my hand. I had to tell myself it wasn’t a man at all but a target, its flesh-coloured coils bound in a red sash.

  ‘Two.’

  Anticipation tasted sweet on the air.

  ‘Three.’

  I let go, revelling in the power. No sound. No breath. Then the impact burst through my chest. My target was thrown back and almost I crowed with such visceral delight. Even the pain was satisfying, the strings of my heart humming like my bow.

  Katashi had nocked a second arrow, but lowered Hatsukoi with a wry smile. ‘I had to be ready,’ he said with a boyish shrug. ‘You might have missed.’

  ‘I don’t miss.’

  ‘Neither do I.’ He returned the arrow to his quiver. ‘Are we alone?’

  I reeled out my Empathy, sucking it back quickly. ‘Almost,’ I said. ‘Your man’s not dead. He will be soon.’

  The cold sweat of pain shattered the thrill, turning me sick. No man should have to suffer such agony.

  His foot jerked, banging on the boards.

  Katashi snorted and began to undress. Leather tunic, linen shirt, breeches, underclothes and soft leather shoes, all removed until he stood naked beneath the swaying willow fronds. Not at all embarrassed, he bundled up his clothes and tied them together with his black sash. Then he threw them onto the wharf and they landed with a gentle thud, skipping into the shadows.

  ‘Joining me or staying here?’ he asked, sliding soundlessly into the water, as smooth and graceful as an otter.

  I undressed as quickly as I could, watching Katashi swim into the moonlight, Hatsukoi held above his head. No shouts came, no cries of ‘intruder’. But for the gentle lap of the water there might have been no sound at all.

  Having thrown my clothes to the wharf, I lowered myself into the moat. The water was cold despite the sultry summer warmth, and I moved quickly, trying to make no splash, no sound. Already at the far side, Katashi laid Hatsukoi on the boards and pulled himself out, water streaming off him. Keeping my bow out of the water was tiring, but I swam on, trying not to imagine what creatures might live in the black water.

  Katashi stood in the golden light, dripping dry. My arm burned. It felt like the water was getting thicker and I dragged myself the rest of the way to the wharf. There, I threw my bow up and gripped the edge, catching my breath. Katashi held down his hand and I gripped it without thinking.

  So close, came the whisper of his thoughts. I will avenge them all.

  A woman. She lay on a tattered sleeping mat in a robe that might once have been beautiful. Its brilliance had faded and her face looked the same, a beauty worn thin, her hair little but wisps curling from her head. She smiled wanly up at me, hardly breathing, hardly seeming to live at all.

  And there I stood dripping on the planks.

  ‘I felt that,’ Katashi said, his eyes narrowed. ‘Every time I touch you I see something that’s not mine. Malice doesn’t do that.’

  ‘I guess I’m different,’ I said. ‘Who was the woman in the faded robe?’

  ‘My mother,’ he said, beginning to dress. ‘I was thinking about her. She died a pauper, heart broken, exiled from her homeland with no way of feeding herself or her children, no family, no shelter, nothing. She was a noblewoman. She had never worked a day in her life, but of course there is always a way for a woman to earn a living.’

  His anger was palpable. He did not look at me as he spoke, but stretched his black sash between his hands.

  ‘That’s why you wear the black sash.’

  ‘Yes. I’m not a gentleman, whatever my birth. Kin saw to that.’

  Katashi buckled on his holster then slid Hatsukoi into it. While I finished dressing, he dragged first one corpse and then the other to the end of the wharf. There was only the gentlest of splashes as he lowered them into the water’s welcoming embrace, the weight of their armour sinking them beneath the surface.

  ‘Do you know where we’re going?’ I whispered as he joined me.

  ‘I used to live here,’ Katashi replied. ‘Just tell me when you feel someone and I’ll do the rest.’

  I nodded and he went ahead, his long dagger already free of its sheath.

  The Keep’s lower level was a maze of tunnels cut through the foundations. Cold emanated from the stones, and already chilled by the swim, my skin pimpled. The cold might deaden my other senses but my Empathy was unchanged. Above us, two hundred and fourteen souls inhabited the Keep, most peacefully sleeping.

  Despite the dim light, Katashi strode the passages unerring, looking to me only to be sure we were alone. Sometimes I felt a presence pass overhead, but down here, there was nothing but an empty chill.

  When we climbed the narrow stairway to the next level we slowed our pace. The first soul was drawing close. I touched Katashi’s shoulder and he turned, the castle so quiet I could hear his clothing shift.

  What is it? his raised brows seemed to ask, and I pointed ahead.

  He nodded, and brushing past me, retreated along the torch-lit passage to where a narrow hallway branched. There in the shadows, we leaned against the cold stones.

  The sound of footsteps came, growing louder. The echo made it hard to judge the distance, and every moment I expected a man to appear. Perhaps he would walk straight past without seeing us. Katashi stood poised, watching the mouth of the passage, his dagger ready.

  The guard appeared. A lantern half lit his youthful features. He did not turn, did not see us, but Katashi did not hesitate. Two long strides and he had his hand over the boy’s mouth. I tried to pull my Empathy away, but failed. The knife slid in, the knife slid out. Shock hammered my heart. The light was too bright and my head spun, dizzy, sick. Then the blade ripped through my throat and I was on my hands and knees, retching. Even when the pain left me, I could not forget. My arms shook, and I lowered my forehead to the cold stone floor.

  Katashi went past, dragging the body. Out of the corner of my eye I saw his feet pass, saw a limp arm
and smelt the blood. I took a deep breath, air shuddering out of my lungs.

  When Katashi returned I sat up, steadying myself on the wall. ‘Felt that, huh?’ he asked. ‘It’s the quickest and quietest way I know to kill a man. We can’t chance anyone going down to find the wharf unguarded.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Do you feel everything?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Anger?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Lust?’

  I paused. ‘Yes.’

  ‘What an interesting life you must lead.’

  ‘You’d be surprised.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ he said, crushing the discarded lantern beneath his foot. ‘Not much surprises me. Let’s keep moving.’

  I nodded, pushing to my feet. My legs shook, but there was no time to rest and I followed him back into the maze.

  Up another set of stairs the stone tunnels became passages of blackened wood. Most of the servants were asleep, but enough roamed the halls to make our progress slower still. Katashi tried to avoid as many as he could, but when there was no choice he did not hesitate. I grew more used to the pain, used to the feeling that my throat had been torn out, though I wished I did not.

  From passage to passage, we moved through the Keep, climbing until we reached what Katashi called the Court Floor. The Keep rose further above us, but the last stairwell spat us out into a narrow hallway lined with bamboo screens. The air was heavy, filled with the smell of dust, incense, and reed matting; the smells of age, of a building that had lasted centuries and would go on existing long after my body rotted in the ground.

  ‘Lots of guards?’ Katashi asked, his voice a whisper.

  ‘Hard to tell,’ I said. ‘Lots of people.’

  The weight was oppressive. Even though many slept, I could tell something was wrong, some disturbance yet beyond the reach of my Empathy.

  ‘So this is Kin’s court,’ Katashi said, his eyes scanning the dim landing. ‘At least some of them. In Emperor Lan’s time every room would have been full. Uncle Lan liked sycophants. Kin barely listens to his advisors if all the rumours are true.’

  And I was barely listening to him. I had let my Empathy wander. Two hundred and fourteen souls, and Lord Laroth would be the two hundred and fifteenth; his heartless body nothing to my touch.