Witch King, page 20
The demons murmured assent as Arn-Nefa and her followers reached the bottom of the steps.
Bashasa stared as if he had never seen Kai before. Kai knew his clothes were covered with slashes and blood, that his braids were unraveled because someone very foolish and now dead had grabbed his hair from behind and tried to cut his throat.
Bashasa was just as disheveled, his brocade coat sleeves slashed bloody, his knuckles scraped raw. He said, “You have a knife in your chest.”
Oh, right, he did. That was what was wrong with his right arm. Kai reached to remove it but the angle was awkward.
Bashasa’s brow furrowed. “You’re just going to pull it out?”
“Sure.” Kai didn’t have the words right now to explain how Enna’s body worked.
“Wait, let me.” Bashasa gripped the hilt and jerked the knife free.
Kai let out a huff of breath. That did feel better. He looked out over the cavern-like space and saw the pockets of fighting growing smaller, that the new arrivals focused on the platform, watching them. Maybe they were something to watch, standing at the nave of the Temple Halls where the Hierarchs were meant to be worshipped, surrounded by dead legionaries. He asked, “Who are all these people?”
“Arike, Enalin, Ilveri from Nibet, the Grale, others I don’t recognize. Hostages, emissaries of conquered client states, enslaved captives who have freed themselves,” Bashasa said. He nodded toward the knots of unfamiliar Arike soldiers taking up guard positions around the Halls’ entrances. “Prince-heirs Asara and Stamash have broken free of their courts and joined us.” He turned to the tall gold doors behind the platform. “We think the Hierarchs are there.”
Air whipped around, tossing Kai’s hair and making the Arike banner flutter. Ziede dropped to the floor beside them. She said, “What are we waiting for?”
“For you,” Bashasa said, no hesitation. He stepped back from Kai and dropped the legionary spear. He held a hand out and one of his Arike soldiers put her own sword hilt into it. He faced the door. His soldiers and all the others on the platform gathered behind and beside him.
Kai watched Ziede brace herself, her clothes drifting in the breeze as she drew her remaining power to her. From her guard position on Bashasa’s other side, Tahren glanced at Ziede as if hoping for a look in return, but Ziede didn’t notice. Kai made himself focus on the door; he knew this was the end.
A breath of air that smelled of blood and recent death tugged at Kai’s clothes, ruffled Tahren’s short hair. It grew rapidly stronger until Kai had to plant his feet to keep from leaning into Bashasa. Smaller mortals stumbled sideways or set their spear butts on the platform to stay in position. It didn’t touch Ziede, standing like a statue in the eye of her growing whirlwind.
She made a sharp gesture and the wind slammed into the doors. The crash reverberated through Kai’s bones. One heavy door buckled, the other flew off its top hinges and spun inward with a sharp crack of gilded hardwood.
Bashasa shouted and lunged for the opening. Kai surged forward with the soldiers. Then the mortals started to scream.
A heartbeat later, an invisible force closed around Kai’s body. It squeezed his lungs, sapped his strength. Bashasa and the other mortals staggered, fell, lurched away. Ziede’s face knotted with furious effort as she held her ground, struggling against the crushing force. Tahren kept her feet but she strained to move, barely inching forward. Kai managed a look over his shoulder and what he saw made his heart contract in despair.
The effect spread off the platform, rolled like a fog across the room, pushed even the other demons back. The unsuspecting mortals who still fought staggered or dropped to the floor, legionaries and rebels alike.
Kai had felt this for the first time on that terrible day in the hills, when it had killed Saredi and borderlanders and Witches in droves. He had never been this close to the source. Now he knew it was the Hierarchs’ Great Working, preparing the power of their Well to rain death on everyone in range.
Kai stepped toward the doorway and felt a shove against his chest, like a hand planted there pushed him steadily away. It froze his heart, made his legs shake. It was draining his life, but Kai had been draining mortals all across the Halls; all that life now flooding Enna’s body gave him the strength to force his way forward.
He reached the broken door and clambered across it into a chamber that was clearly some kind of retreat. Lamplight flickered against walls of figured marble and an ivory floor. Mortals were scattered around, legionaries with officer tails, richly dressed servant-nobles, all helplessly sinking under the indiscriminate effect of the conjuration. But Kai only focused on the Hierarch who stood in the center of the room and the expositor shielding him.
Kai had never seen a Hierarch this close but the stink of the Well, of pain and stolen lives, came off him in waves. He looked like a small man, dressed in a white and gold gown, with pale white hands, a pink unlined face with shaved brows and a trim white beard and long white hair. His expression was mild, as if this was only an inconvenience. And maybe it was; so far it was only his legionaries and servants who had been killed.
The expositor in front of him stood with hands outstretched, a slim figure all in black with features concealed by a veil. Frozen in place like a statue, the expositor used the Hierarchs’ Well to flood the room with the numbing power that would kill everyone in range, then feed their lives back into itself.
Kai didn’t want to die, didn’t want Ziede and Tahren and Bashasa and all the others to die just to cause a moment of inconvenience to a Hierarch. He flung himself forward.
It was like swimming through cold mud that sapped the blood from his veins, the strength from his muscles. A flicker of movement in the corner of his eye warned him just in time to catch the arm holding the cursebreaker before it touched him.
But the wielder was just as hampered by the power of the Well as everyone else. Kai yanked them sideways and drained their life. Shoving the corpse down, he stumbled over its legs and pushed forward the last two steps toward the expositor. This close the vortex of power had the weight of a mountain and he collapsed under it.
This was what it felt like to have your life eaten away. The Hierarchs’ Well pressed Kai down into the cool ivory floor as his bones creaked and bent and snapped. Neck muscles straining, he forced his head up just enough to see the expositor’s gilded sandals under his skirt. Kai dragged his arm up to stretch out and grab a bare ankle.
The Well ran through the expositor’s body and it should have overwhelmed Kai instantly, but it was all flowing outward to kill the mortals in the Halls. Something about that connection must have kept the expositor from fighting like Cantenios had; Kai felt the expositor’s life leaching into his veins and was so shocked he almost let go. He had never expected this to work; he had just wanted the Hierarch to feel fear, to see how close one demon Saredi could come.
The crushing force of the Well ceased, rage-filled voices screamed, a heavy boot stepped on Kai’s leg, then pain stabbed down into his spine. Some kind of cursebreaker, a short spear with a demon-killing intention on it, he wasn’t sure. But if he was going to be forced out of Enna he was killing this expositor first. He clutched at the expositor’s life with everything he had left.
Then the world went dark.
Kai came back to feel the soft scrape of ivory tile under his hands and he rolled over. He remembered crushing weight and splintering bones but nothing hurt now. Except his swimming head and the sick knot in his stomach. He saw white skirts and looked up, expecting to see the Hierarch standing over him. But it was Bashasa.
Bashasa flung out his arm. “Stop, stop!” He stared down at Kai in horror. “Sister Witch!”
Kai blinked up at him, then down to where the Hierarch sprawled in blood-soaked robes, just past Bashasa’s boots. The Hierarch was dead. “Bashasa. You did it,” he croaked.
Kai should have been happier about that, but he just felt exhausted. Oh, right, because he had broken all Enna’s bones and a powerful cursebreaker had done something terrible to him. This was what being knocked adrift from your body was like. Except not, because Bashasa was clearly staring at him and a mortal wouldn’t be able to see an adrift demon.
Ziede’s voice said, “Kai?”
Bashasa said, “Here. He’s here.”
Ziede lunged into view, throwing herself down beside Kai. Her brow knit in an incredulous frown, which at least was better than horror-struck disbelief. She said, “Kai?”
He said, “Ziede?” His voice still sounded strange inside his own head. “Bashasa killed the Hierarch. Didn’t he?”
Ziede’s gold makeup was a smeared mess. He tried to reach up to wipe it away. “Kai.” She took his hand. Her hands were warm and he realized how cold he was. “Did you … mean to do this?”
This? “To kill the expositor,” Kai managed. His ankle hurt, his back ached. He was freezing cold. Worse than lying outside in an ice storm without a coat. Why did his voice sound so strange?
She squeezed his hand. “Yes, Kai, but did you mean to do this?” She took his shoulders and turned his body toward where Bashasa still stood like a statue. No, past Bashasa toward the crumpled form that lay near the dead Hierarch.
Kai was looking at himself. He was looking at Enna’s body. Her eyes were open, but they were mortal eyes. Kai had never seen Enna’s eyes; when he had woken in her body the first time and been shown her face in the polished metal mirror, her eyes were already the flat black wells that marked a demon habitation. Now they were brown flecked with green, dull and still with death. “Uh,” he said, and his voice came out in a different tone. “That’s me.” Then the sick pain in his stomach welled up and his vision went black.
NINE
On the way back, Kai stopped at the edge of the forest and made a cantrip to call a messenger. He had wanted to do this earlier, but Enalin was landlocked and their cantrip didn’t work on seabirds. After a time, a long-legged river bird walked out of the trees, and stood in Kai’s cantrip. The message he had written there dissolved into the dust, and the bird took wing.
When Kai reached the outskirts of the sea port again the sun was shading toward afternoon and the smell of roasting fish was in the air. He went to the river docks to check the working for the barge and found it nearly complete.
On his way to the Immortal Blessed ship, he followed the dregs of Aclines’ dismantled power well to a stand of tall overhanging trees. They sheltered a long low stone building with thick walls that might once have been a storehouse for perishable food. Ashem had probably chosen it because it was cool and protected from the sun, and not far from an intact well house, a little round building topped by a sculpture of leaping fish.
Kai paused in a drift of dead leaves to glance inside the storehouse. The dusty interior was now full of the semi-conscious, raggedly clad bodies of the cohort, sprawled on the hastily cleared floor or leaning back against the mossy walls. The cadre moved among them, washing faces and tending to the abraded skin on their hands, trying to make them comfortable. It was quiet except for murmuring voices and the occasional cough, though the cool air held the smell of unwashed bodies and mortal sickness.
Ziede would have released what remained of the web of intentions gradually inside the ship, and the cadre had to walk or carry them all up here, so it was a testament to Ashem’s organization and the cadre’s hard work that it was already done. Blankets, water jugs, baskets holding food stores had been brought from the ship to help, and Kai wondered if Saadrin had been petty about it, or had decided it was beneath her notice.
He went back up the walkway and down the broader road past the fishers’ market pavilion, spotting Ramad standing with Ashem at the top of their dock. Some fishers were working on their boats, others sitting outside their pavilion repairing nets. Kai didn’t see Ziede out on the upper deck and touched her heart pearl to ask, Everything all right?
Her reply was reassuringly immediate: It was tedious rather than dramatic. Ashem sent two runners to the Rising World outpost right after you left. It will take them at least a day to get there, but I suspect the faster we leave, the better. Were you successful?
On both counts. We should be able to leave soon.
Always a relief. We’ve packed up some supplies and we’re ready when you are.
Good. I’ll be aboard in a moment. Kai went down the steps and detoured toward the fisher dock. They paused their work when they saw him coming, alert and watchful but not afraid. When he dropped the ghoul’s head on the salt-crusted pavement, several leapt to their feet. There was a splash and thrashing as someone fell off the boat.
Without waiting for further reactions, Kai turned to go along the retaining wall toward Ramad and Ashem. He had their complete attention already. Ramad’s gaze flicked between Kai and the fishers, who had cautiously approached the ghoul’s head, one leaning down to examine it with a long stick. Ashem looked aghast. Before either could get a word in, Kai said, “If there’s anything else you need from the ship, get it now.”
Ramad started to speak, then stared at Kai, eyes widening. Ashem took a full step back with a muffled curse. “How?” she demanded. “Is that a chimera?”
It wasn’t really any of her business, but Kai asked, “Does it look like a chimera?” He brushed at the dried blood on his cheekbones. It felt strange and made his vision watery on the edges. Saadrin’s attention had been drawn by the noise and she glared down at him with a thunderous face.
“No. It looks real,” Ramad assured him, clearly trying to conceal mild horror. He glanced back at the fishers still poking at the ghoul’s head. One made a loud exclamation of relief and another started an old sea people prayer-chant. “Who was that?”
“And did you kill him for—those?” With a grimace, Ashem jerked her head in the general direction of Kai’s face.
Kai hissed out a breath. He didn’t owe either of them an answer, but he was tired of being misunderstood at every turn. “It was a body-stealing ghoul. If you think it was pleasant for these mortals to live here with it nearby, you’re wrong.”
Ashem admitted, grudgingly, “I’ve heard of those. We had one sniffing around a waystation when I was first posted to the south coast.”
“Body-stealing,” Ramad repeated, brow furrowed as the implications set in. “And you got … those … from it?”
Kai resisted the urge to scratch or poke at his borrowed eyes. The only mirror he had been able to find was a still pool off the path in the jungle. He knew they looked natural enough to fool anyone but another Witch, which he doubted would be a problem. “The Immortal Blessed don’t let Witches and demons wander around holy sites looking for old artifacts they used to use to harass and punish each other. Now do you need anything else from the ship?”
Ashem let out an annoyed breath but said with surface courtesy, “No, thank you. You’re taking it to Stios now?”
Saadrin withdrew from the rail with an expression of distaste, but Kai was certain she was still listening. He told Ashem, “We’re going to Stios overland. Once Ziede leaves the ship, Saadrin will take it away immediately.”
Ashem’s eyes narrowed, as she glanced up at the rail where Saadrin probably still lurked. She said, “The Rising World council will have questions about all this.”
Ramad began, “I think it would be best if—”
Kai lost the rest as Ziede’s urgent voice said, Kai, we’re out of time, the stone under the steering column is glowing.
That meant more Immortal Blessed were coming, using the ship’s Well-source as a focus. Kai held up a hand for Ramad to stop talking. Did Saadrin call them?
Ziede’s inner voice was breathless. She said she didn’t and if that’s true, they’ve tracked us some other way—
Ziede—He heard a scramble on the upper deck and Tenes ran past the rail. He didn’t know what his expression was doing but Ramad looked concerned and Ashem’s brow knit. Kai said, “Cohort Leader, tell your cadre to hide, stay quiet. Immortal Blessed are coming, maybe the ones who gave Aclines the ship.” Kai bolted back down the retaining wall.
He skidded to a halt near where the fishers gathered around the ghoul’s head. They turned to face him, wide-eyed and curious. He remembered the shell and pebble charms surrounding their camp and made the old Witchspeak sign for danger from the sky. If they understood, it would eliminate the need for a lot of wordy explanation.
A heartbeat of appalled realization, then the fishers burst into motion. Some turned to leap back down toward their docked boats. Others scrambled up to the market pavilion, calling warnings. People scattered out of the camp, small children under their arms, running deeper into the city.
Relieved, Kai turned away. Maybe the warning to the fishers had convinced the Arike. Ramad sprinted toward the storehouse. The cadre members up on the retaining wall grabbed their supplies and retreated up the road toward the shelter of the port buildings and trees. Ashem followed, walking backward, waving for the stragglers to catch up.
When Kai reached the bottom of the ship’s gangway, Sanja and a couple of leather travel bags flew off the deck in one of Ziede’s wind-devils. Kai caught Sanja as the wind-devil dropped her and let the bags fall to the dock.
“They’re coming, someone’s coming,” Sanja said, anxious and frightened. He set her on her feet and leaned down to grab the bags. She had a new tunic pulled on over her other clothes and had been hastily bundled into one of Aclines’ less ostentatious coats. “Ugh, what happened to your eyes?”
“I know, and it’s a disguise.” He slung both bags over his shoulder and took Sanja’s hand to start back up the dock. This was far too close to Kai’s worst prediction, that one or more Immortal Blessed were involved and would come to kill them and all the mortal witnesses. They could stay and fight but it would increase the risk that the cohort would be found and killed. These might just be Immortal Blessed looking for the stolen ship, but they couldn’t take the chance.
