IGMS Issue 44

by IGMS

  I blinked, and all three wolves blinked with me. First the girl outside had looked like Ah-ni, and now the man talking with the guards strongly resembled my younger brother, Giup-yo.

  Often Sneak Lords couldn't take the fracturing of their minds; I had seen it happen before. One day they appeared fine, and the next they howled with their wolves.

  This man had Giup-yo's eyes and melodious voice. He stood tall like our father, not hunched over as I did. And his face wasn't angry or fearful, but polite and respectful. Could it be Giup-yo?

  No. My younger brother couldn't be here.

  Because my father had defected to fight for the Empire during the war, the new government considered my brother and me tainted. I made a deal with the Doyen -- he had gotten rid of most of his rivals for power by that point -- so Giup-yo could remain free. All these years in prison were for him, to pay for our father's crimes. The Doyen wouldn't have broken his promise, would he?

  My ears finally registered what they were talking about: finding a prisoner. A girl.

  "I can help." My scratchy voice surprised me just as much as the guards, but I had to determine if this man really was my brother. "My wolves know all the prisoners."

  The master guard cocked his head. "Hero Roo Giup-yo, may I introduce our eldest Sneak Lord, Prisoner C.B."

  My little brother, in front of me after all these years. And they hadn't taken away his hero status, so he must not be here as a prisoner. I thanked all of the fates in the heavens.

  The master guard continued, "Prisoner C.B. has helped us catch hundreds of misdeeds around the country, and the Kuo Peninsula is safer for his efforts."

  I kept my face impassive as my happiness turned into shame. Hundreds of men, women, and children that I had turned in to keep myself -- and Giup-yo -- alive. Old women caught stealing food; children swimming across the Songim Strait to the Empire; prisoners just trying to survive in the mines any way they could. So many sins I had committed by watching through the wolves' eyes and whispering to the guards. I would pay for each one in the afterlife.

  "I hope I can be of service." I inclined my head in deference.

  "If he'll help me find the prisoner quicker, I'll use all means necessary," Giup-yo said, but no spark of recognition showed on his face. As much as I yearned to embrace him -- my brother -- a small part of me was relieved that he didn't know yet what I had become.

  The guards shifted their feet. They had too much work to babysit a Hero of the Revolution, but they couldn't have the Doyen hear that they were shirking their duties. "There's no need to involve you, Prisoner C.B."

  "It would be my pleasure," I said, giving them my widest smile. I hadn't made a peep of trouble for them in so many years. Please let it pay off now.

  Eyeing the door to the prison yard, the head guard said, "Well, if you insist. We have a group of new prisoners to settle into camp, and as you can imagine, we're needed outside. Please shout if you need anything, Hero Roo Giup-yo. There'll be a guard within earshot at all times."

  I led Giup-yo back to my tiny room, my mouth dry. Now that I had him here with me, the words flew away faster than a deer spotting one of my wolves. I'd never imagined I'd see him again.

  As soon as the door closed, my brother began pacing around the tiny space, barely looking at me. "I need you to find a girl . . . I mean woman . . . who arrived in the past few days. Delicate face, small stature . . ."

  I swallowed, thinking of the girl pulling up carrots outside. "Does she look like Ah-ni?"

  Giup-yo froze in place. "How do you know my wife's name?"

  I held my hands towards him, palms up. "Do you not recognize me? Brother?"

  He cocked an eyebrow. "The only brother I have is Roo Cha-be, and he hasn't written in many years."

  When I was younger and my mother was feeling well in the evenings, she would pull me aside and say, "Look after your brother, Cha-be. That's the duty of an older brother, to look after the family. Always do what's best." Revealing my identity would surely cause him pain, but it would be "what's best."

  Whispering so the guards outside couldn't hear, I said, "Our mother fell sick when we were very little, but didn't die until the year we left to fight in the war. In the fall, we gathered wild ginseng in the mountains behind our home. The trader in the market never gave us a fair price for it, but we thought we were rich. We grew up in the same village as the Doyen, and you used to call him 'Beaky' because his nose . . ."

  The purple flame of the supai stone lamp danced in the whites of Giup-yo's eyes. "How do you know all of this? Did the Doyen tell you?"

  Part of me wanted to confirm the lie; it would be easier. But he deserved the truth. "I'm your brother. Cha-be. Although I've been called 'Prisoner C.B.' for most of my life."

  He clutched my wrist, his fingers hard as iron. "How did you get here, in prison? Why didn't you tell me?"

  The words tasted like rotted fish in my mouth. "Father fled to the Empire. He fought against us in the war. The Doyen needed someone to punish."

  Releasing my arm, Giup-yo rocked back on his heels, eyes searching somewhere far away. I poured more lukewarm tea from the kettle, then offered my teacup to him. He took it and drained the cup instantly.

  Five's vision suddenly overlaid my own: she had caught a woman stealing from the prison kitchen. The woman clutched a tiny bag of rice to her thin chest, tears running down her cheeks as she faced the snarling wolf. Her lips moved in a prayer, too fast for me to catch the words.

  For the first time in many years, I had something more important to do. I commanded Five to walk away, letting the woman go free. Once she realized what the wolf was doing, the woman stumbled past, bowing and thanking me for my kindness. If the guards found out what had happened, I would be whipped, but today I didn't care.

  "What was that?" asked Giup-yo. He stared at me. "Your eyes, they glinted silver for a moment."

  I gazed down at the bare wooden boards of the floor. "I was tending to my wolves. I've disgraced our family by becoming a Sneak Lord." Father would surely have preferred death in the mines to spying for the prison guards.

  "Oh, Cha-be." Giup-yo squeezed my shoulder until I looked up. His expression was kinder than I had expected. "I had no idea the Doyen would use my research like this."

  "What do you mean?"

  He poured himself another cup of tea. "Ah, you've missed so much. After the war, the Doyen asked us to concentrate our supai stone research on defense rather than weaponry. Replacing the wolves' eyes with the supai stones and linking them to human minds, that was only supposed to be a temporary measure. To watch for an invasion from the Empire. It was never supposed to be used here in the prison camps, against our own people. I can't tell you how sorry I am, Cha-be."

  After a minute, understanding dawned on me. My little brother's research had created the Sneak Lords, and I had become one to save him. Sometimes the fates have a sense of humor.

  He misinterpreted my expression. "Please don't be angry with me. I couldn't have imagined this would happen."

  There were no words to tell him of my past few decades as a Sneak Lord: the searing pain after the procedure, when no amount of screaming or vomiting could bring release; the extra minds overlaid on mine, thoughts and sights and sounds swirling so fast I felt like I was spinning; and the exhilaration when the wolves ran through the dark mountain forests, swift and tireless as the falling snowflakes that collected on their fur. I closed my eyes briefly, remembering the calmness of having just one mind, before changing the subject. "How is Ah-ni?"

  Giup-yo's face darkened. "She has grown close to the Doyen. Too close." He didn't have to say more: the Doyen had always been a handsome man.

  He continued. "Our daughter, Henge-sa, has disappeared, along with her husband. I found him in another prison camp, his mind taken away by the supai stones, just like your wolves." His fists clenched and unclenched. "So many ways the Doyen has twisted my research."

  "And you think Henge-sa is here?" Three continued to wa
tch the girl who looked like Ah-ni, keeping just out of eyesight.

  "I hope so. I need to find her before the Doyen decides I'm also a threat. It seems anyone can disappear these days."

  I sucked in a breath. "But the Doyen promised me you'd be safe."

  "He also promised that my family would be safe."

  Hatred hot and feral burned through me. Four howled into the blue sky outside.

  Giup-yo clutched my hand, eyes wide as the howl dissipated. "Please, Cha-be. Do you know where she is?"

  I fell into Three's vision and nudged the girl with my nose. She scrabbled away across the dirt of the field -- Three padding after her -- until one of the nearby women said, "The Sneak Lord wants you to come. I'd follow his orders if I were you."

  The girl nodded, and soon I heard footsteps in the hallway. Three stopped in front of the door and motioned for her to open it before I sent him back to his rounds. Seeing myself through his eyes was always disconcerting.

  When the girl opened the door and spotted Giup-yo, tears formed in her eyes, but she held herself back, glaring at me.

  "Is everything all right here?" One of the guards appeared behind the girl.

  "Yes, this is the prisoner I need to question." Giup-yo's voice quivered; but after a nod from me, the guard left the room. I closed the door behind him.

  Giup-yo swooped Henge-sa into his arms and rocked her back and forth, whispering into her hair. What had once been a tight married woman's braid had come loose, and sections of it stuck out in all directions. My niece had been born, grown up, and married while I remained imprisoned. If I had been free, I could've had a daughter by now, maybe grandchildren. My chest ached with what might've been.

  "Do you have a plan?" I asked as soon as it felt appropriate. "The guards won't leave us alone much longer."

  "Why would you care, Wolf Man?" asked Henge-sa. Though my ears had long grown used to the insult, they burned at hearing it from my niece's lips.

  "He's your uncle, don't talk to him that way," said Giup-yo. "Brother, can you help us escape?"

  The answer to his question should be "of course." But I hesitated.

  Prisoner U.J. hadn't been particularly beautiful or charming. Her crime had been the same as mine: her father had fought for the wrong side during the war. But there was a fire in her eyes, an overwhelming desire to live that held me captivated. After I became a Sneak Lord, she begged for my help. A small section of the enclosure fence could be bent back, creating a tiny hole just large enough for a slim woman to slip through. If my wolf could distract the guards, she could escape.

  "My name is Uihee-jo," she whispered as One gave an ear-splitting howl near the guard post. "I'll be forever in your debt." Her lips grazed mine just before she curled her body under the fence.

  The next day as the sun burned the morning mist from the valley, a guard dropped Uihee-jo's severed head in front of me. Then, as my mind whirled with the horror on the ground, he thrust his sword through One by my side. First the sharp piercing, cold metal sliding against bone, and then the agonizing separation of mind from muscle. She was my first wolf, and my first death. I held her in my arms until she grew cold and stiff, wondering what she had been like before they replaced her eyes with supai stones: if she had left a love behind, or pups who never knew what happened to their mother.

  Two's sickness many years later hadn't been any easier.

  Now I had three wolves attached to me. I shuddered to think of three more deaths. Most Sneak Lords couldn't take more than two or three in their lifetimes.

  The lines in Giup-yo's forehead knit together. "You will help us, won't you, elder brother?"

  Look after your brother, my mother had said. There shouldn't be questions in Giup-yo's eyes; I should help him instinctively. But how much pain could I carry?

  Henge-sa spoke up. "Could you find my husband too, Uncle?" The word "uncle" left her mouth twisted as if she had eaten a sour grape.

  Giup-yo's face fell. "My daughter, I'm so sorry."

  She turned towards him, hands covering her mouth. "Is he dead?"

  "Not dead . . ." Giup-yo's sentence trailed off.

  She leaned closer, as if trying to reel in the words from his lips.

  I took pity on my brother and spoke. "He has become like one of my wolves, only without a master. You have my sympathies." I had heard of the Human Sneaks before, blindly following orders until their bodies could no longer move. They were the perfect mine workers, never complaining about the enormous loads of supai stones crushing their backs.

  She blinked at me, hands not moving from her mouth. One tear trickled from the inside of her left eye.

  "No!" She turned and pounded on the wooden wall before either of us could stop her. "Not my Sen-ha! Not my husband!"

  I waited for the guards to come and drag her and my brother away. But nothing happened.

  Crossing the distance between us, I slapped her hard across the face. She fell silent, lifting one hand to her reddening cheek. Tears dripped from her chin.

  "Silence," I hissed. "Unless you want to follow his soul into the afterlife tonight." I paused a moment before adding, "I'll check on the guards."

  I crept along the passageway, but none of the guards were at their posts. I wished I had kept Three nearby -- the wolf was swift and nimble while I was slow and clumsy -- but all my wolves were at least five minutes' run from the guardhouse. As a precaution, I directed them nearer.

  I stepped into the sunlight and breathed in the air tinged with the spicy smell of the supai stone mines, but still there were no guards in sight.

  Four caught the scent of horses and sweaty men before I saw them around the trees. Ten guards led a large group of men on foot from the main gate towards the guardhouse.

  In the center was the Doyen.

  Four shook until her teeth clattered together. Five made a yip-yip and raced towards me, paws clawing the dusty path. Three flew into a frenzy, leaping and foaming at the mouth.

  I stood still, watching the man who had put me into this hell.

  The Doyen hadn't aged a year since I last saw him. His eyes were narrowed, searching and seeing all, without any hints of lines crinkling his smooth skin. His mouth was soft, his hair cut perfectly under his military cap. His steps were brisk and fluid as he strode toward me in his impeccable dress uniform.

  I had never wanted to kill someone so badly.

  A guard shoved me from behind with his pistol. I bowed low, as much following orders as to hide my face. The Doyen strolled past without pausing.

  ". . . eager to see what you've done since my last inspection."

  "We're honored by your visit. Oh, and we'll tell Hero Roo Giup-yo that you're here."

  The Doyen paused a few feet away. "Roo Giup-yo?"

  I stared down at the dust, wondering if I could set it aflame with my eyes.

  "Yes, he came to question a prisoner. He's with her now."

  "Ah, I see. I think it's time I had a chat with Hero Roo Giup-yo."

  Look after your brother. "Wait," I said. Shoes scuffed as the men turned. I raised my eyes to the Doyen, but his expression was expectant, confused. Like Giup-yo, he didn't recognize me at all. "I'll fetch him for you."

  The head guard gave me a warning look. "Sneak Lord, you were supposed to be watching them now."

  I swallowed. "The questioning is complete, sir."

  The guard narrowed his eyes at me. I'd be paying for this small indiscretion later, one way or another. "Go then and bring us Hero Roo Giup-yo."

  The Doyen nodded. "Thank you, Sneak Lord."

  I bowed and led them into the guardhouse, trying to keep my steps steady even though my whole body wanted to break into a run.

  While the guards and the Doyen's men collected in the main room, I slipped down the hallway and into my tiny room.

  "What is it?" asked Giup-yo.

  "The Doyen," I breathed. "You have to leave, quickly. Run down the hallway and out the front gate, before anyone realizes. The guards are all
here, not at their stations. I'll tell them you hit me, I'll . . ."

  The sound of the door opening swallowed the rest of my words.

  The Doyen himself walked in, tall and confident. I blinked, trying to make sense of the scene in front of me. My brother, niece, and the Doyen were all crowded into the tiny room where I had spent years alone. The fates must be enjoying toying with me today.

  The Doyen's eyes flicked to Henge-sa. "You must be Ah-ni's daughter. I warned your husband twice, in deference to your mother, but he didn't listen. Pity."

  "He only told the truth," Henge-sa spat. "Our navy can't defend our shores if they're not given proper boats or cannons or . . ."

  The Doyen's voice cut sharp like his sword. "I warned him, and my warning was ignored. That cannot be tolerated." He turned to Giup-yo. "And you shouldn't have come here. I was willing to look past your family's transgressions because of our history together, but now you're forcing me to take action."

  He pointed to me, his finger accusing me of all the wrongs ever committed in the Kuo Peninsula. "I can command the guards to make you a Sneak Lord like this man. In exchange for your service, you'll be well treated. Otherwise, you and your daughter will work in the mines, or meet the fate of her husband. It's your choice."

  Giup-yo looked from me to Henge-sa. "Doesn't she get a choice?"

  "No, she'll be used as the guards see fit."

  I suppressed a groan. I had seen all the ways the guards could use a pretty young woman, and I wouldn't wish those on anyone, much less my niece.

  "My old friend," Giup-yo said, "will you allow us a few moments alone? I want to say goodbye to my daughter in private."

  "I've been more than generous . . ."

  "Please, Beaky."

  Surprise and anger crossed the Doyen's face before he nodded. "You can say goodbye, but the Sneak Lord stays in the room with you. Guards will be stationed outside, don't think about running. And this is the end of our friendship. Don't let me ever hear the name 'Beaky' again."

  Without a backward glance, the Doyen left and shut the door behind him.

  "How will we escape?" asked Giup-yo immediately.

  I stared at the wood grain of the door, pockmarked by age and claws, and felt it closing in on me like a coffin.