by Peter David
“Yes. Exactly,” I said.
“I thought that might be the case. Still… the physical act was undertaken. That is sufficient for our needs.”
My heart clenched. “You’re… you’re telling me that all I have to do to get into the Imperior’s good graces is to ask an innocent young woman to lay down her life. To die simply because we had sexual intercourse.”
“It is slightly more complicated than that, but yes. That is essentially it.”
“I… I can’t… that would… that would…”
“That would make you as bad as me?” She said it with faint sarcasm, but she almost sounded genuinely interested.
My thoughts were swimming. I moved away from her, needing distance, trying to find grounding. Should I do that? Could I? Actually ask an innocent young woman to sacrifice her life for me? Was I that craven?
Or was it craven? If I kept in mind Mitsu’s arguments over the past months, then to take her suggestion would simply be in keeping with the philosophies and the—
No.
Just that flatly, my inner voice rejected it. And when one considered that there was no greater advocate of my finding ways to live than my inner voice, then that had to be considered a thumpingly flat rejection.
There was only so far, and no further, that I would go to save my own miserable hide. This was, believe it or not, a bit of a revelation for me. I’d really thought there was nothing I would not stop at to keep breathing. But apparently that was not the case.
“No,” I said, my tone flat. “No, I can’t do that.”
“Even if it provides a means of saving your life?”
“Even if. I have… other considerations,” I said.
“Yet you would sacrifice me to prove your loyalty to the Forked Tong.”
As much in disarray as my thoughts had been, that comment of hers suddenly penetrated the haze of confusion like an ice spear.
I turned to face her and realized we were standing right in the center of the bridge. Without even noticing it, since I had been so distracted by the torment and confusion in my mind, I had brought her to where I had promised.
My mouth was suddenly dry.
She was shaking her head, and there was a satisfied smirk playing upon her lips. “Ah, Apropos. Ever the contradiction. You would condemn me for sacrificing a handmaiden, and yet you think nothing of placing me in jeopardy when it suits your needs.”
“Saying that I think nothing of it isn’t remotely accurate. I’ve agonized over this more than any other decision I’ve made in my life, and how the hell do you know that’s what I was doing?”
Except she didn’t really have to provide me the answer, because I already knew it. Even as she stepped toward me, placed her right fist into her left palm and mashed them against her breasts three times, it was clear to me.
“I knew it,” I muttered. “I knew you were one of them. Were you there in the shrine? Standing there, watching me sweat?”
“No,” she said. “I was at the palace. But I learned of it quickly enough. We have eyes and ears everywhere. And a quick spy who relayed information to me with unmatched alacrity.”
“Mordant,” I said with growing comprehension. “I thought I saw something winged in the trees of the forest. It was he.”
“Yes.” She patted my face. Reflexively I drew back slightly. My thoughts were a strange mishmash of triumph that I had fulfilled my end of the bargain, thus “proving” my loyalty, and relief over the fact that Mitsu was in fact in no danger at all since she was already a part of this insanity. But I had not known that Mitsu was part of it when I’d willingly brought her to this place to put her at the mercy of the Forked Tong.
As if she could read my mind, she smiled and, keeping her hand on my cheek, said, “Don’t be concerned, Apropos. I’m very pleased matters have worked out this way. Now you will never be able to feel morally superior to me. After all, my handmaidens willingly and knowingly make the sacrifices that are asked of them. You, on the other hand, were going to take an ‘innocent’ girl and sacrifice her for the purely self-serving purpose of showing your loyalty and desire to join our cause. So whose escutcheon is the more stained? Yours? Or mine?”
“I have no escutcheon,” I replied. “I have nothing. And perhaps that’s exactly what I deserve.”
She drew my face to hers and kissed me lightly on the forehead. “Do not feel that way. You are about to embark on the most glorious adventure of your life. One that you richly deserve.”
I hated it when people told me that.
“Well,” I said, “at least you had nothing to do with the attack on my teacher.”
She looked at me, amused. “You don’t realize? I was the one who fought you that night. You served to delay me so that I wasn’t in the hut when he…”
“You?” I couldn’t believe it. “But… no… it…”
She nodded. “Yes. It was on my way back from that business that I came upon Mordant and recogniz—”
I wasn’t listening. “I saw you naked!”
Mitsu blinked in confusion. “What?”
“I cut the woman I fought. Cut her badly! I would have seen a vicious, red wound on you…”
“Here, you mean?” she asked, touching her shoulder area. “A wound that might look like the tongue of a dragon?”
“Yes, just like…” I stopped, thunderstruck. “Gods… your tattoo…”
“One of the sisters obliged me. I consider my body a work of art, Apropos. You defaced it. I had to restore it. A job well done, don’t you think. Is my body not a piece of art once more?”
“Yes. I’m especially impressed by your brushwork.”
She swatted me on the back of the head.
Chapter 8
Divine Revelations
The sun had come out, but you couldn’t have told that from where we were.
Following Mitsu had been like following a flickering shadow during a moonless night as we made our way to a section of town far removed from any we’d been to. The streets grew narrower and narrower to the point where it seemed almost impossible to keep moving through them, and yet we did. I had gone back to the inn and gotten my belongings, and we had headed out almost immediately. Now I was starting to wish I’d stayed where I was. I was constantly checking my person every time I came near any of the denizens of this pit to make sure that no one had relieved me of any valuables. “That’s probably a very wise thing for you to do,” Mitsu had assured me. As assurances went, it wasn’t very reassuring.
Because the buildings were so close together, the roofs overlapped. As a result, no sun was filtering through. I felt as if we were swimming in gloom. Just to try and distract myself from the sense of foreboding, I tried to engage Mitsu in conversation as to how she had wound up being part of an organization dedicated to removing her father from office.
She was not especially forthcoming, unfortunately, which was a bit of a change from the young woman I’d known who was happy to talk about practically anything. Then again, it seemed ridiculous to think of her as the young woman I’d known considering, obviously, I hadn’t really known a damned thing about her.
All she would say was “You’ve no idea what my father’s done. No idea what he’s like. If you knew, you’d understand.”
“I can’t know unless you tell me.”
“Not yet. When it’s time, you’ll know.”
“Wonderful,” I said, rolling my eyes. “But I still don’t understand. If you lived in the palace with him, and you want him out of power, why not just—”
She stopped, turned, her eyes flashing. “Kill my father?”
“Well… yes. Except you make it sound so unpleasant when you say it that way.”
Mitsu looked disappointed with me… which, considering the circumstances, was quite an achievement. “That is not an option. Eventually you will understand. But not now.”
And again she had said I wouldn’t be able to understand. I wasn’t sure if she was just being patronizing, or whether
she was one of these people who believed that fate and the gods dictated the timing of certain things, and it wasn’t for her to do anything to muck with that timing. The one thing I knew for certain, though, was I was starting to get well and truly annoyed.
“Where are we going? Will I understand that?” I asked.
“Yes. Once we get there.”
“Wonderful.”
Nothing more was said. Eventually we reached a section of town so impenetrable that we were the only people on the narrow street. I felt as if the buildings were alive, moving toward us to hem us in so we’d have no possible means of escape.
Suddenly I collided with something, and realized belatedly it was Mitsu’s back. At least I thought it was. It had gotten so dark that I could barely see her face. If she’d been dressed in her Anaïs Ninja black, she would have literally been invisible.
“Through here,” she said.
I had no idea where she was pointing. I couldn’t see a damned thing. “Where?” I said.
I felt her placing her hands upon my shoulders and guiding me slowly forward. I kept my walking staff extended, like a blind man with his cane, waiting for it to bump into a wall so I would know when to stop walking. But it encountered no obstruction. Instead I kept moving and, within moments, was off the street entirely. I was completely surrounded by blackness. No air currents were moving about me; I was in some sort of structure, but how big it was or what it looked like, I couldn’t even begin to guess.
“Mitsu?” I called out softly.
No answer.
“Mit—?”
And then that scent wafted toward me. That singular, incredible scent. My skin tingled just from the slightest hint of it. I felt as if it was lifting me up, up off my feet, sending me soaring above the city. As if I could touch the heavens just buoyed by it.
“So… you’ve proven your loyalty.”
It was she. Her voice was coming from just ahead of me. I moved in the direction of where I thought it was coming from and just ahead there was the gentle flickering of light. More candles. The Forked Tong apparently used more candles than everyone else in Chinpan put together.
I took several deep breaths to clear my mind. It was essential that I not let my infatuation—or was it obsession—with Veruh Wang Ho cloud my judgment. “You deduce that because Mitsu brought me here.”
“Yes.”
“Are more of the sisters here?”
“No. We are alone.”
I listened carefully, my hearing as sharp as ever. I was reasonably sure she was telling the truth. I could detect no one else around.
The twinkling illumination made it easier for me to see the doorway of the room just ahead. One more deep breath, and then I entered the room.
Veruh Wang Ho was seated cross-legged upon the floor. As opposed to the far more elaborate garb she had sported when I had first encountered her, now she was outfitted in a simple white kimono. Her face was still delicately made-up, though, her hair elaborately piled atop her head.
That first rush of passion I felt for her paled in comparison to what I felt for her now. That same giddy, intoxicating rush of sensation.
There was a small table in front of her with the now-familiar sight of tea set up. Two cups were upon the table on opposite sides. The steeping tea was in the middle. She gestured for me to sit, and I did so. It was something of a relief. In her presence, I was literally becoming weak in the knees. It would hardly be the height of manliness to collapse in front of her.
“I confess,” she said softly, “I am glad. Very… very glad.”
“Really. Why would that be?”
The edges of her mouth upturned slightly, and there was amusement in her dark brown eyes. “Why do you think?”
“I couldn’t begin to guess.”
“To guess? Or to hope?”
The truth was the latter rather than the former, but I did not trust myself to speak. For someone who had spent a lifetime being glib, I was atypically tongue-tied.
She poured the tea into my cup, then into hers. I reminded myself that the woman was evil—which, granted, was part of what I found so attractive—and did not make a move for my cup. She saw that I was allowing it to sit there, and appeared most amused by my caution. Without comment, she lifted her own cup and delicately sipped from it. I noticed a small bit of her bright red lipstick was rubbing off on the inside of the cup. I sipped from mine as well at that point.
“What would you know, Apropos?” she asked.
I lowered my glass. “Know?”
“Would you know the truth? Or would you know me?”
I quickly put the cup down, because I could feel my hands starting to tremble. “Know you… in what sense?”
She did not answer immediately, instead prolonging the delightful agony by simply sipping more tea. Then she held it a few inches from her face and the smile widened ever so slightly. “Apropos… we are aware, we two.”
“Aware?” I asked guardedly.
“Yes.” Her voice continued in its lyric grace. “There are very few people in this world who are aware of the truth of things. Who see the world for what it is, and what it isn’t. People with true clarity of vision. And when two such encounter each other, there is an instant attraction. You must have felt it. Do not bother to deny it.”
“I…” My voice felt thick and heavy, as if coated with tar. “I… don’t deny it…”
She nodded slightly, apparently approving. “You want to know why events of recent vintage have happened. You also want to know me… in every sense of the word ‘know.’ You may have either or. Choose.”
I wanted to scream. I wanted to burst out of my skin. I wanted to clamber across the small table, knock her to her back, and take her right there on the floor of this darkened room.
But I could not allow myself to become totally at the mercy of lustful impulses, no matter how gratifying they might be if acted upon. As much as I wanted her, burned for her… there were priorities that needed attending to. Things that simply had to be done.
I wanted her. Desperately. But I, who was one of the most selfish bastards in the history of selfish bastards, couldn’t do it. What I didn’t know now could get me killed later.
“Why have these things happened?” I asked. It was the most difficult five words I’d ever uttered together.
Veruh Wang Ho looked truly surprised. I think there’d been no doubt in her mind that I would forgo all other concerns in favor of satisfying my carnal urges with the woman who might very likely be my true soul mate. Then the surprise gave way to… approval? Yes. She didn’t seem upset at all. In fact, it appeared that she was regarding me with something akin to approval.
“Very well,” she said. “Let us be specific, then. What do you wish to know?”
I decided to speak forcefully and, even more important, quickly. Who knew if she might change her mind and feel that I had somehow insulted her by making the choice that I had. “Mitsu resides within the palace,” I said. “As does the most obvious enemy that the Forked Tong has. I understand Mitsu’s rejection of the notion that she assassinate her own father. On the other hand, I suspect her loyalty to your organization would have prompted her to obey you if you ordered her to do it. Furthermore, with her there, she could very likely facilitate your getting your own agents and assassins within the palace walls. In short, if you wanted the Imperior dead, then he would be dead. Yet he lives. What am I to conclude from that?”
“You seem to be under the impression that the Imperior would die as do other men.”
That stopped me short. “Well… why would he not? Is he not like other men?”
“No. He is a shennong.”
“A what?” The word was completely new to me. I didn’t have the faintest idea to what she was referring.
“A shennong. A wielder of sorcerous powers.”
“He’s a weaver?” I mentally called up an image of the wrinkled little man and tried to comprehend how such a one would possibly be any sort of true
magic user. “I don’t believe it!”
“It does not matter whether you believe it or not,” she said, sounding quite reasonable. Her tea was getting low in its cup and she refreshed it from the pot. She offered it to me and I politely waved her off. “It is true. Furthermore, he has knowledge that we need. Knowledge both general and specific, which precludes us from simply removing him from the equation… as much as we would like to.”
“What ‘specific knowledge’ are you referring to?”
“Ah… that is not my story to tell.” With that, she sipped more from her newly replenished cup. “The point is, if we were able to kill him by treachery, it still would not serve our needs. Plus the military might he wields is vast. Greater than we can readily combat on our own. So because of the nature of our opponent, and the magicks and might he wields, we had sought help in dealing with him. We thought we had found it. We had heard tell of a vastly powerful magician from a distant, foreign land. A round-eyed individual, similar to yourself. We had learned that he would be traveling by boat to a land some distance from here, known as ‘Azure.’ We sent an emissary to meet him there. It was our intention to enlist his aid and bring him here to defeat the Imperior. But the famed sorcerer never arrived in Azure. As of this point, the vessel he was coming aboard is so overdue that it is generally believed his ship was lost in the crossing.”
“Uh… huh,” I said slowly. “And this, uhm… this sorcerer. What would his, uh, his name be… just out of curiosity?”
“An odd name, actually. Almost as odd as yours. He was known as Ronnell McDonnell of—”
“—the Clan McDonnell,” I finished.
With eyebrow arched, she said, “You’ve heard of him.”
“In passing, yes. I, uhm…” I coughed loudly. “I think assuming him lost at sea by this point is probably a wise idea. It’s, uh… been a long time.”
“Yes. And so we have taken other measures.”
“What other measures?”
She placed the cup of tea down gently and then smiled with grim satisfaction. “It has taken us years to reach a point of mutual trust and respect with them, but we have done so.”