The Nameless Shadow: Darkling Souls 1.5, page 10
The ink and the person. Espionage always came back to those two things. The supply caravan was supposed to meet the returning army.
It wouldn’t get that far.
The ornate pommel of the stolen saddle glistened as the spy rode down the golden road. Dozens of wagons followed.
The small turnoff was just ahead. They’d unload the supplies there and return with empty wagons. It would be an administrative nightmare that the auditors would never uncover. The army wouldn’t be able to march through the isthmus to Avyllon, buying Aurienne weeks if not months to prepare. They turned down the small road.
It was all going according to plan. Until the sound of approaching hooves stopped the supply caravan in its tracks.
“I’ll do the talking. No one make any rash moves,” the spy hissed.
About twenty soldiers reined their horses to a stop before the spy, stallions snorting and stamping their polished hooves.
“Whoah,” the front soldier said. “Where are you going?”
“Stopping to rest the horses,” the spy replied. “We traveled through the night.”
“We didn’t hear anything about a stop ordered,” the soldier said.
The spy shrugged. “We got a late start. The paperwork wasn’t in order.”
“We were sent to escort you. Our rations are running low,” the soldier said.
Shitting gods of Nyx’ela.
His mind raced to think of an excuse they’d buy. “One of our wagons has a cracked wheel. We will need to repair it. Could you send for supplies?”
The soldier’s gaze narrowed. “Don’t you have repair supplies?”
Did they?
“I didn’t see any.” The spy shrugged.
“Leave the broken wagon. Let’s get the rest of these to the army,” the soldier said, circling his horse.
The soldier glanced between the spy and Guo, who was drifting closer. The spy squinted at Guo and brought his hand up against the light, pretending to shield his eyes while he was glaring and warning Guo to stand down.
“Is there a problem?” The soldier’s hand tightened on the hilt.
“None at all,” the spy said as brightly as he could. “I hear you. The army needs its food. We’ll get those rations to your people and come back for the damaged wagon. We’ll leave two soldiers here to guard the wagon until we return.”
The soldier hesitated, studying Guo carefully.
The spy nudged his own horse forward. He reached into his cloak, fingers closing on the cool vial of blinding dust. They’d have to figure out how to spin this later, but at least—
A soldier squinted at Guo. “Don’t I know you?”
Guo drew his sword and charged.
“No!” The spy cried.
Metal clanged.
Guo crossed swords with the captain. A soldier charged for the spy. The spy reined his horse out of the way and hurled a vial at him. The soldier fell from his horse, screaming and holding his face.
Another charged Mei, but she was staring at the screaming soldier and didn’t see her coming.
The spy kicked his horse into a gallop. The soldier raised her sword and started to bring it down on Mei. He wouldn’t make it in time. Mei’s attention snapped up, and she dove from her horse’s back. The sword clanked against the metal pommel, and Mei’s horse reared. It kicked the solider in the chest, knocking her off her horse. She stood, rising her sword again as Mei scrambled away. Knives flicked from his wrists and sank into the woman’s spine. She toppled beside Mei, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth.
When the spy turned back to the skirmish, twenty soldiers were already dead, having been outnumbered three to one with angry rebels.
Guo wiped his blade on a cloth. “We’ll hide the bodies in the woods. This close to the Nyx’ela mountains, the shades and beasts will take care of them.”
The spy’s gaze snapped to Guo as anger burned inside his chest. Guo’s comments were callous on deaths of soldiers who may not have wanted to join this war, who were following orders and trying to stay alive. They could have been turned or silenced.
The spy stormed up to the rebel leader. “I was going to dust them. They wouldn’t have known what we were doing and would have recovered in days.”
Guo shrugged. “People die in war.”
The spy’s hand went to his hilt. “Not when they don’t have to. It leaves a trail we don’t want.”
Guo held his hands up and puffed out his chest, taunting. “You wanna try this?”
Yes.
After what he’d seen at the temple, he was so tired of bloodshed. The worlds were too grand, too magical to be wasting life. Anger rippled through him, but he released his hilt and instead leveled a flat stare at Guo.
The spy bent down and ripped his daggers from the soldier’s back, stowing them into his sleeves with purposeful snaps. “This was my mission. The next time you deviate from the mission and end lives without my permission will make you my enemy.”
The rebel leader drew his sword. “Is that a threat?”
An inky shadow beside the wagon winked at the spy.
Time to teach the rebel a lesson he’d never forget.
The spy spun, dissolving into the shadows and reappearing behind Guo. Roughly, he gripped the collar of Guo’s uniform and pressed the dagger against his neck.
“Yes,” the spy hissed.
The rebels drew their katanas. The spy pressed his blade a little closer. His other hand was blinking in and out of existence, but he managed to keep the other hand corporeal enough to hold the dagger. Guo froze before he held up his hand and sheathed his sword.
“Just a misunderstanding, everyone.” Guo cast a dark glance over his shoulder and said, “We all understand each other now.”
If the spy killed Guo, they’d attack him and maybe Mei. He might shadowstep and kill them all, but for what. Death was what he wanted to avoid, and they were just fighting for their freedom.
“There’s been enough death,” the spy said.
The spy withdrew his blade and slipped back into the shadow. He stepped out from behind the wagon near Mei—who he realized hadn’t drawn her own knives during the encounter. Both hands blinked in and out of existence this time, and he stuffed them into his pockets.
Guo’s eyes fell upon him. “You’re not a man. You’re a shade. A wraith,” Guo said. “It’s why you use no name. Shades have no name.”
Guo didn’t sound afraid. Wary or apprehensive, but not afraid. Like he’d taken the spy’s measure and would decide what to do with that information later. The other rebels backed away.
Mei rubbed her arm absently, the one that had the bandage on it.
He frowned. “Is your arm alright?”
She tugged her sleeve down. “Let’s get these wagons to the village and unloaded before any other soldiers come looking for them.”
Retaliation
Chapter Thirteen
Sweat and dust coated the spy’s skin and hair. The bed creaked under his weight, and he glared at the bathing tub and the effort required to clean the days of travel. They’d unloaded the rations in the village with plans to slowly sneak it back into the city. The empty wagons returned to the administrative offices. They’d pulled off the heist, but the deaths of the soldiers weighed heavily on him. He was no stranger to death, but it was so unnecessary, and where was the line between that and the dark deeds in the heart of the pyramid. Judging by Mei’s silence on the ride back, something weighed heavily on her too.
The nameless one scrubbed his hands over his face and dragged his fingers through his short hair. He hadn’t slept in days, after not sleeping when he’d fallen through the worlds at the pyramid. It felt like he hadn’t slept in a week and maybe he hadn’t. He wasn’t sure how shadowstepping world-traveling time worked.
He leaned back on top of the faded, threadbare blanket. If he just closed his eyes for a minute, he could get just a little sleep—
Screams cut through the morning bustle. And then more screams. The spy’s eyes popped open.
Click.
Scrape.
Clunk.
Thud.
Click.
The spy’s chest clamped down around his lungs. He darted to the window, pushing back the curtains.
Titan-ore-clad wardens dragged Mooncursed beasts on leashes through the city. The spy froze as his blood hardened to an icy sludge. Needles of pain pricked his heart as he blinked and rubbed his eyes. Prowling monsters dripping black ichor stalked every street. There were hundreds.
People huddled in terrified groups, too afraid to even scream or shout.
“Bring your tax to your door,” a warden announced.
“We just paid taxes a week ago. They aren’t due for another three weeks,” a woman yelled as she stormed outside, before freezing in her doorway with her mouth hanging open.
The warden loosened the leash, and the Mooncursed bit into her neck.
The spy’s hand slammed against his mouth, and he stumbled away from the window.
The Mooncursed tore into her neck, shaking and ripping, and blood spurted everywhere. And then it started to eat.
“No arguments,” the warden snarled. “No questions. The army didn’t get their rations, and the emperor has ordered us to restock them so they can head to the isthmus immediately.”
Another warden yanked on the Mooncursed’s leash. “Any empty offering bowls will be met with our emperor’s Mooncursed. Spread the word.” One of her teeth gleamed gold.
People ran through the streets giving the warning. Others hid indoors. The spy watched a few people on his street dump food, sweets, coins, and other offerings into bowl after bowl.
“We don’t have enough,” a woman carrying a newborn cried as she handed a soldier a bag of gold.
A neighbor handed over several small bags. “Here you go.”
The woman cut her finger and bled into an offering bowl.
Apparently, Niamh accepted blood as an offering.
Bang, bang, bang.
The spy palmed a dagger and opened his door. Mei burst in.
“Do you hear what they’re doing?” she demanded. “What are we going to do?”
“How fast can Guo get the supplies back?”
“A few days…” she said. “A week maybe. But people don’t even have enough to pay these new demands. People are going to starve.”
Screams caught the spy’s attention.
A warden dragged a man down the street. Other wardens dragged shouting people in the same direction.
The spy slipped out his window and began following on the rooftops. Mei was behind him, surprisingly keeping up as he leapt from roof to roof.
In a large public square, the people were dragged onto the roof of an audit building. The warden knotted a noose around the neck of the first man.
“They’re not going to,” Mei whispered. “They can’t.”
Crack.
The first man fell. Then another and another. Eight swinging bodies.
“Their offering bowls were empty,” the warden said.
Chaos broke out. The spy was jostled roughly by the fighting and bartering. A shoulder slammed into him, then an elbow. He fought to push through the crowd. Offering bowls overflowed with gold and gems beneath his feet, and he danced to avoid stepping on the heaping, bloodstained piles.
Mooncursed attacked people in broad daylight, dragging them away. People screamed and ran from the chained beasts. Empty wagons were filled as people sobbed and begged for mercy.
The same wagons they’d used to steal the rations.
It all made sense. They’d been responsible for all of this. It was a message he received loud and clear.
“Go to Guo. We need those rations here as quickly as possible. Maybe the emperor will stop attacking his own people if the rations are returned. We can find another way to delay the invasion.”
Mei whirled on him. “All you talk about is the war. And Avyllon and all the other nations. But what about us?” She threw up her hands.
The spy’s temper flared. “Everything I’ve done is for both. If he invades and has Avyllon’s seers at his command, he will be unstoppable. How do you kill an enemy who can see you coming? I’ve been doing everything I can to weaken him. That helps us both.”
“I don’t know who you are,” she hissed. “Who you’re working for. I don’t know anything about you. I don’t even know your name. And now people are starving, dying because of you.”
“Me? I did everything I could to stall him. Guo killed the soldiers, and it was his idea to disrupt the army rations. The emperor is kidnapping and corrupting citizens into monsters. And I—”
“What have you even done but buy other nations more time?” she demanded. “I thought you could help us. I believed in you.”
Something clicked in her mind, which was evident on her face. The small changes in her expression. Bitterness in her eyes. The angry flare of her nostril. Sadness on the corners her mouth.
What did she expect? He was a spy. He wasn’t a rebel leader, or a strategist. Spies found information and shared it with people who made the decisions. Except, he’d been here alone with no way to get new orders. He should have left when he had the chance.
He forced his voice to be calm. “He’s too powerful. That’s why we need to take him down.”
She looked away. “I’ll go talk to Guo. I’ll see you later.”
Mei strode off, clenching her fists. The spy watched her until she disappeared in the crowds as the icy needles of unease crept down his spine.
Blown Cover
Chapter Fourteen
Silence had always been the nameless one’s old friend, but today it only made his small apartment feel lonely. He’d received no correspondence from Aurienne in weeks, and he suspected his letters hadn’t been posted either. He’d sent birds, too, but they never returned. Ever since Emperor Rexil declared war on the continent of Teridar, their communications had been cut off. He’d had to resort to the slower spy networks, but those took too much time.
From behind his curtains, he watched imperial guards accompanied by wardens going house to house demanding tribute and taxes. More than anything, he wished for guidance. He’d tried his best, but it had all backfired horribly.
Mei’s face was so disappointed when the first of the army began retaking supplies. Conflicted. Lost. He wished she didn’t always look to him for the answers. Ever since the summit, he didn’t have any. He’d been floundering and trying to keep the army from invading, but it had been setback after setback with luck barely pulling them through. And now, he had no idea what to do.
It might be time to return to Avyllon. If so, he’d invite Mei to come. If they were truly partners—she had the right to know everything. He’d tell her about the High Seer. He’d tell her the truth about shadowstepping and X’era. All of it. He’d never trusted anyone before with his secrets, and that would be trusting her with everything. If there was anyone he wanted to know, and to know him, it was his partner. Working together there was nothing they couldn’t do. Once Aurienne gave them a directive for the rebellion, they could return and help destroy Demorra from the inside.
He hadn’t seen Mei in a few days. They’d agreed to lay low while the army was resupplying. He’d find her and tell her the truth. Scanning his apartment, he realized this might be the last time he would see it. Strangely, he wouldn’t miss it. Another place he stayed a while and left without a word. From the first step inside, he knew this wasn’t home.
Maybe one day, after the war, he’d be done spying. He’d find a home, somewhere near Ma’s house. He could bake bread and raise chickens and cows. It might be nice to have a place he’d miss. People to miss.
He smiled as he packed up a satchel of belongings. His entire life fit into the single bag. The rest he could replace.
The hairs on his neck prickled and not a moment too soon. He dove for an inky shadow under the bed as the door splintered inward. Wardens and Mooncursed beasts filled the room. The Mooncursed’s claws raked the floors and walls, sniffing and searching.
Waiting in the shadow world, he watched, as Emperor Rexil stepped inside his cramped apartment.
The emperor opened a drawer of odds and ends, picking up the needle and thread before setting it down. He pushed back the curtain and peered outside for long moments, looking up and down and around. In the finest robes, he strode to the bed and sat on it. Hands reaching across the threadbare blanket, the emperor traced the holes and frayed edges. The bed groaned under his weight.
“It’s so ordinary,” the emperor said.
That’s the point.
“I suppose that’s the point,” the emperor said at the same time.
The spy’s heart leapt into his throat.
The emperor looked around the room, eyes passing over where the spy hovered in the shadow world. “He was just here. I sense his energy. Search the room. Search the surrounding buildings. Find him.”
The emperor exited the apartment and the spy drifted away. He slipped through the city, until he was far enough away that he was sure the emperor’s guards wouldn’t find him. His chest started to burn, and he stepped out of a shadow.
He blinked in and out of existence.
Godsdamn it.
Cursing, he waited for his body to return. It was taking longer and longer each time. He needed to stop shadowstepping altogether if he wanted to retain his form. How had they found him? He had been practicing shadowstepping a few weeks ago, which had garnered a lot of notice, so it was possible that they’d finally found him. That didn’t feel right though.
Someone had given him up. Someone who had been too interested in the rebellion, and who’d warned him against trusting Mei. He’d gotten a bad feeling about this person ever since he shadowstepped.
Jun.
Usually, he’d never think twice at betrayal. He had no reason to. But here… he cared about the city of Rexila. Mei had made him care. He wanted to help the people here, and the fact that they refused to help themselves by allowing the in-fighting and conquering and warbands continue for so long infuriated him. Maybe his grandfather had been right in leaving. He had to find out.
