Moon's Artifice (16 page)

‘Gods ! Yes, you’re awake !’ Narin exclaimed, clearly distracted enough that he’d not even had time for his thoughts to catch up with events. ‘Wait, what about your mind ?’

‘He can’t remember anything,’ Enchei supplied. ‘Not his name, where he came from, what he was doing out on that street or who his friends are.’

Narin hesitated, staring at Irato as though a hard look would change matters. The muscular goshe matched his gaze but could say nothing further, pained helplessness on his face. ‘Nothing ?’

Irato shook his head.

‘He’s not lying, I’m sure,’ Enchei added.

‘So that’s what Lord Shield meant,’ Narin breathed after a long moment of thought.

‘Shield ?’ Irato croaked. ‘What’s Lord Shield got to do with this ?’

Narin glanced at Sheti and Enchei. ‘You haven’t told him ?’

‘I thought it best he hear everything from you,’ Sheti said firmly, ‘and now seems as good a time as any.’

The Investigator grimaced, as though the idea made him feel physically sick. ‘Everything ?’ he echoed. ‘Stars above, I don’t even know where to begin.’

Curls of orange cloud flecked the western horizon of a darkening, striated sky. The Gods shone bright in the evening light – the Order of Knight slowly wheeling through its allotted month of dominion. Shield remained in ascendance and there were a few days more before star’s turn, when Lady Pity would assume her place at the fore of the Order’s nightly march across the sky. Behind the Gods only a handful of other stars were visible yet, the sky still not fully dark after sunset.

‘You know,’ Enchei said as he and Narin looked up at the night sky, ‘when I first got here, the world seemed to make more sense.’

‘Here ?’ Narin looked around. The compound was peaceful and still, but the city beyond, with its markets and gambling dens, was often chaotic and incomprehensible to most. ‘How’s that then ?’

Enchei pointed up to the stars. ‘It’s Shield’s Ascendancy across the Empire, everyone knows that and everyone lives by it. But you try living somewhere distant. You live by the Imperial calendar and you know the date, but it doesn’t look right from where you are in the world. Shield doesn’t look ascendant when you’re in some far corner of the Empire, Pity does.’ The grey-haired man shrugged. ‘Just saying ; the known world turns around this city. You look inward from the edges, things looks different.’

Narin shook his head. ‘Not much makes sense to me right now.’

Enchei offered over his pipe and Narin took it, drawing in a long breath of the silky-smooth smoke.

‘Even without this damn goshe and a dead little girl, I’m lost at the moment.’

Enchei gave a fatalistic shrug. ‘How about this Prince Sorote of yours ? Ever heard the name before ? The Office of the Catacombs means nothing to me.’

Narin shook his head. ‘But there are dozens of small fiefdoms surrounding the Imperial court, some ancient or extinct, others just names for some minor royal trying to carve themselves a little piece of power around the court. With the Houses always ready to go to war with each other, someone needs to broker between them I suppose, but what one wants with me I’ve no idea – except he was asking about Rhe.’

‘Makes sense. Lawbringer Rhe’s star is burning bright. He’s already a presence in the Forum, so how long before he’s on the Vanguard Council itself ?’

‘What’s that got to do with me ?’

‘Rhe’s got a reputation – one that doesn’t sound like he’s willing to help the politicking and quiet deals that run this Empire. But if you’re right there at his side and this man’s got dirt on you, you’re valuable and vulnerable in equal measures.’

‘I’m a bloody Investigator !’ Narin protested. ‘What use could I be to him ?’

Enchei held up a finger to correct him. ‘Currently,’ he said, ‘currently an Investigator – but not forever. Prince Sorote’s investing in the future, to my mind, wants to get his hooks in nice and deep in case you ever become useful.’

‘So why mess around ? He could have come out and given me a choice – not as if there was much I could do about it. The rumour alone would be enough for Vanden to have me killed.’

The older man took his pipe back and puffed appreciatively on it as he idly looked around the still rooftops and nearby streets, watching for any sign of trouble. ‘You’ve got a future ahead of you,’ he said eventually. ‘It’s a way off but some men think decades in advance. He might not think he’s the only one.’

‘What do you mean ?’

Enchei grinned. ‘Seven men dead, a lord saved and you helped into a position many Investigators would cheerfully kill for. You’re a lucky boy there, some might wonder if it’s more than luck. If Prince Sorote wants you as a plaything, he’s got to be careful you aren’t already someone’s toy.’

Narin stared blankly for a moment before realisation began to creep over him like a cloud’s shadow. ‘He’s looking to see if I’m a plant, if the whole thing was engineered to win Lord Vanden’s trust.’

‘I would be, if I hadn’t seen your prowess first hand,’ Enchei said with a smile.

‘And if it was all a set-up, there’s someone powerful behind it, Astaren even.’

‘Aye ; Imperial caste power-broker or not, Prince Sorote won’t want to get his fingers burned. He comes to say hello and make a few allusions, but not actually threaten you … well, if you belong to someone, you mention it and he gets a whisper in the ear to back off. Royal family don’t tend to get killed so easily after all, not without a fuss, and anyone running your operation won’t want to draw attention to their games.’

‘Bloody madness,’ Narin sighed. ‘And yet I’m left wishing I did have a handler to make him go away.’ He paused and cocked his head at Enchei. ‘Fancy playing the role to get him off my back ?’

‘Could be a good thing, in the end,’ Enchei said, pointedly ignoring the question. ‘People who do stupid things like falling in love with a married woman above their station go one of two ways. Either they die pretty damn quick or they know someone who can help them fix it. Until this afternoon, you only had one of those options to hand.’

Narin gave a start. ‘What ? Submit to him ? Become his pawn for whatever game he’s playing ? I have the oaths to uphold ! I can’t just betray the Lawbringers like that !’

‘Oaths are fine when it’s just your life on the line,’ Enchei said with a sour expression, as though the words tasted unpleasant to speak. ‘Put someone you care about in the mix, it gets tricky. Mebbe wait until you find out what he wants, and what he can do for you, before you make any decisions.’

Narin opened his mouth to argue then seemed to think better of it. He looked away, his shoulders slumped. ‘Fine,’ he muttered. ‘Since you’ve got all the answers tonight, what about these burned bodies we’ve found in the streets ?’

Enchei frowned. ‘Easier than carrying your dead home, mebbe ?’

‘Eh ? But why do it at all ?’

‘Didn’t you hear Kesh’s story ? That goshe had lightning at his fingertips – was strong enough to jump to roof-height from a standing start.’

Enchei nodded towards the closed door, behind which Irato slept. Beyond it, in Narin’s bedroom, Sheti had gone with Kesh to help wash the rest of the blood and dirt off before changing into something clean for the night.

‘Your man in there – don’t know if he knows it or not, but he’s the same. He’s been altered I reckon ; some mage has made a weapon of him.’

‘So they don’t want to reveal their weapons ?’

Enchei shook his head. ‘They don’t want to reveal they’ve got weapons. Tell me, what’d happen if the goshe started producing guns and any Astaren found out ?’

‘They’d be slaughtered,’ Narin said slowly, ‘in the night, with no warning. That’s the law ; no one would dare do such a thing.’

‘Exactly. Since the Ebalee Trading Company got obliterated, no one’d be fool enough to think they could keep it hidden. But – what if they had mages doing something similar for an elite cadre ? You can’t leave your dead behind ; absolutely
can’t
if it means you might get the full force of the Empire’s Astaren hunting you down. Gunpowder weapons are the one piece of Imperial law no Great House would compromise or hold back on. Imagine what they’d do if you threatened the power of their Astaren.’

‘So they burn their dead – even if the Great Houses do investigate, there’s not enough left to point whatever suspicions they might have at the goshe. Could easily be Astaren doing the same thing. No one wants to leave their secrets for the enemy to find.’

Narin looked around. Suddenly he felt very exposed out there under the stars. That it was Lord Shield looking down on them wasn’t enough comfort. The Gods had greater things to occupy their time than watch mortals for every moment, even mortals they’d taken an interest in.

‘What you’re saying,’ he began slowly, ‘is that they’re not going to stop – that there’s nothing they won’t do to hide their secrets ?’

‘Aye,’ Enchei nodded. ‘There’s too much at stake. Good thing you weren’t followed home eh ?’

Narin turned to Enchei, hoping to see a reassuring grin on the man’s face, but the eccentric foreigner looked deadly serious now – a sight that chilled Narin more than the cool night air.

‘You think we were ?’

Enchei made a non-committal noise. ‘Don’t know, but I bet they’re working hard to find out one way or another.’

‘And that doesn’t worry you ?’ Narin snapped, trying hard not to shout.

The older man shrugged. ‘Ain’t trying to kill me.’

‘You think they’ll leave witnesses ?’

Enchei grinned. ‘Everyone underestimates a man o’ my age. They’ll be more worried about you and Irato.’

‘Why don’t I find that encouraging ?’ Narin wondered grimly.

‘’Cos you ain’t a fool.’ Enchei knocked out his pipe on the wooden rail they had been leaning on before turning to the door. ‘Come on. If they do come it won’t be until the whole city’s gone to sleep. There’ll be another heavy fog tonight I reckon, perfect for nasty little deeds. Gives us some time to choose our ground a bit.’

‘It does ?’

‘Aye, you’ve had a few good ideas about making these rooms more secure, just in case,’ Enchei said. ‘What with you being the one in charge and all. You’ve just told me what to do and here I am following orders.’

Narin looked around one final time and shivered. He was all too keen to follow as Enchei pulled open the door and headed inside, the quiet cold of the night suddenly too much to bear.

As darkness descended, the lights of the Gods dulled. Faint dabs of white in the sky, they illuminated a ghostly blanket of fog that rose up from the waters of the Crescent and spilled across the city. With her Starsight, Synter watched the fog’s gradual creep through the city’s streets. Looming through it all was the Imperial Palace, its white walls picked out by the blackened iron gas lamps that burned on only the grandest buildings.

To her twice-blessed eyes, the city was at its most beautiful at night – a monochrome etching of heart-stopping intricacy. It had always been a pleasure for her to haunt these streets at night, untouched by the cold and embraced by the myriad shadows.

She turned her head slowly, wary of attracting the attention of any demons that hunted them. Perel had killed several of the foxes before his arrogance got him killed – they would be keen for revenge, but weakened by the losses. Foxes were the best hosts, their preferred minds, but cats and rats would also serve when times became desperate – and they were indeed growing so.

They’re feeling the loss of their lodestone,
Synter remembered,
and it festers like a wound in their heart.

The demons’ nightmarish soldiers would be scuttling through the empty streets of the Thumb, Synter guessed ; desperately hunting for the scent of a blessed goshe or the girl who’d escaped Perel. They’d not pick up Synter’s trail, she’d made sure of that, but they were enough of a danger for her to remain vigilant.

Few people would venture out now the fog had come – their superstitions were justified by the array of horrors she’d encountered over her years, but in turn the demons had long since learned to fear the light in its various forms. A prickle ran down her neck as she saw a shape moving stealthily in the dark, then a second in parallel. Crossbow in hand, Synter watched the advancing goshe agents for anything following them.

Even to her eyes it was difficult to make out the net of killers slowly closing around the quiet Imperial compound. Two full teams ; all slaved to the mind of a leader and chosen to be expendable. Some Investigator and a young woman, whether or not she could handle herself, should prove little trouble for the dozen fighters, but they could take no further risks and it was best any losses did not prove disastrous. Eyes blessed with Starsight were the only advantage these goshe possessed, but it was one unlikely to be discovered on any corpse they left behind.

Even if the attack causes a scandal and the Lawbringers close down the hospitals and Shures, they’ll find nothing.

A flicker of movement caught her eye and Synter pressed the butt of her crossbow into her shoulder as she tracked it down, but then realised it was just an errant scrap of cloth twitching in the breeze. She relaxed her arm and continued to scan the streets and rooftops.

Come out to play, little foxes,
she called in the privacy of her mind.
Come and find out if I’m as easy to take as those fools, Irato and Perel. Come dance in the starlight.

Narin looked around the room, then back to the door he expected to burst open at any moment.

‘This is the extent of your plan ?’ Kesh demanded at last. ‘Sitting quiet as bloody mice so they don’t notice us ?’

He shook his head and opened his mouth to speak, but faltered after only a few words. ‘We’re not …’ Narin sighed and his gaze dropped to the white shaft of his stave and the banded leather gauntlets that protected his hands. ‘I hope no one’s coming, I don’t think they are.’

‘But ?’

He shrugged and looked at Enchei. ‘Best we don’t make assumptions.’

‘And what about him ?’ Kesh continued, pointing at Irato. ‘You so sure of his story you’re happy for him to have a weapon ? What if everything comes back to him when he sees his friends ?’

Irato shook his head. With food in him and the chance to stand up straight, his strength had started to return. His mind might be shocked and dazed by it all, but his body was recovering the balance and purpose Narin would have expected from some sort of elite fighter.

‘Nothing to come back,’ the goshe said wearily. ‘It’s gone – not hidden behind some door in my mind.’ He scowled and looked down. ‘All I got left is the knowledge I got your sister killed. All I got’s atoning for that. Maybe I’ll figure something else out after this is over, but that’s tomorrow’s problem.’

Narin paused. In all honesty he didn’t know for sure whether Irato was telling the truth. Despite Kesh’s own account of the goshe doctors and Enchei’s confidence, the Lawbringer at the back of his mind reminded him of the risk. Words could be misconstrued and the aging tattooist had a remarkably cavalier attitude to life.

No doubt I would too,
Narin reflected,
if I was so hard to kill.
His thoughts were dragged back to that night when they’d saved Lord Vanden and all that followed. A knot of anxiety began to twist in his stomach but he fought it down, determined to focus on the problem at hand.

‘Lord Shield didn’t think he’d be getting answers once Irato woke. Might not be quite the same, but only a fool refuses to trust what evidence he has. Irato’s going to be the least of our problems.’

Behind him lay the remains of a quick meal. None of them had felt much like eating, but Enchei had insisted and they’d all forced down the broth and noodles he’d provided. The room was illuminated by a pair of candles, their light flickering across the faces of the four of them. Sheti had returned to her room before they ate, ordered out to keep her safe, and a heavy chest pulled up behind the door after she’d gone.

The window’s shutters were fastened shut, Irato’s bed wedged up at an angle against them to stop anyone bursting through. The bedroom they’d left vulnerable, the window shutters slightly ajar and the room dark. Every piece of porcelain Narin owned was concealed beneath the window there and a tripwire fixed across the middle of the room, with another strung across the doorway. Narin had decided against letting the other Investigators in the compound know anything. Narin was a better fighter than his colleagues after two years of Rhe’s training and he was unwilling to drag inexperienced Investigators into a fight with armed elites, quite aside from letting them see too much of Enchei’s skills.

Arrayed at their feet were a variety of weapons, mostly those Irato had been carrying. The injured goshe had, with some assistance, pulled on his boots and now sat in a chair facing the barricaded window. A long-knife rested on his thighs ; his hand seemed to know it and slip comfortably around its grip, though the ease of that seemed a surprise to Irato.

He was still in poor shape physically ; weak after days without food, deep bruises and lingering pain in his bones. It was clear to see that the man he’d previously been was no stranger to hurt, however. Just the prospect of violence had sparked a wakening inside the goshe – his limbs understanding it even if his mind was still reeling.

Irato had been quiet since they returned, apparently cowed by Kesh’s presence as much as he was struggling to accept the gaping hole in his mind. Narin suspected Father Jehq’s assertion that Emari’s memory was gone for good had actually helped on that path. Any sort of explanation, any point to start at, was perhaps better than none. The scars on his body showed he had not been a pampered man and Narin could only wonder what hard truths would be beyond him to accept.

What Narin hadn’t expected was Irato’s meek response to Kesh’s anger. None of them had – even the big goshe seemed startled by it. It didn’t seem likely guilt had played much part in Irato’s life, but it seemed genuine enough when displayed on his face that afternoon. Narin looked at Enchei and couldn’t help wonder how a soldier buried the guilt and horror of battle – whether a conscience was something that could scab over and scar as the years went by. Without his experience, was Irato’s conscience or soul as exposed as a child’s again ?

We’re both adrift,
Narin realised as he watched the man.
Life’s suddenly not making as much sense as it should. His path might be the longer, but we’re both struggling to even find the right direction to take.

As much as he tried, Narin couldn’t banish his fears for Kine from his mind. Time and again he found himself staring at an enamel brooch placed unobtrusively beside the window. It was a simple design, a yellow humming-bird on a pale blue background, not even Wyvern in origin, but for that very reason Kine had given it to him as a reminder of her. The more he stared at it, the more he almost felt the electric touch of her coffee-dark skin on his own, almost caught a faint trace of her sweet perfumed scent on a phantom breeze. He looked away, for the first time in his life desperate for a drink of something strong to try and drown out the questions in his head.

Opposite Irato sat Kesh, bolt upright and barely able to keep still as she stoked the fires of her hate. No doubt the balm-smeared burns on her forehead and hand helped there, despite her insistence they weren’t troubling her. Of all of them, she seemed the most sure they would be attacked and the long hatchet that had been among Irato’s weapons never left her hand. The weapon had a slim, curved steel head, built to hook or chop with savage speed. Narin had never seen a weapon like it ; it was a far cry from the cold elegance of a warrior’s sword. The hatchet was all functional brutality, stained a dull black to avoid the moonlight, but far more suited than a sword to the confined space they had chosen.

By contrast to Kesh, Enchei appeared calm and serene with Irato’s spare long-knife to complement his own slim blade. More strangely, he wore his long coat still and cut an odd figure on a stool in the centre of the room – coat swept back to be clear of his feet and knives loose in his fingers.

‘Narin,’ Enchei said softly, causing all three of his companions to jerk at the unexpected sound, ‘how’s that shoulder of yours ?’

The Investigator blinked in surprise. ‘Shoulder ? Almost good as new, just a little stiff in the mornings.’

‘Aye well, that happens to boys of your age,’ Enchei smirked, ‘best I give you the talk about girls soon eh ? Anyways, glad the shoulder’s better.’

As Narin frowned, Enchei raised his eyebrows and nodded towards the door, motioning for Narin to stay where he was. The Investigator turned, eyes widening for a moment before he remembered himself. He moved slowly and brought his stave around to the left-hand side of his body. The ceiling was not so high that he could swing it properly, but there was room for a diagonal strike at anyone coming through the door.

The two men had first met playing dachan, a game which employed carved sticks four feet long that resembled very slim paddles. It was no coincidence that the strokes used resembled sword-blows, nor that the sport had appeared in the wake of the House of the Sun’s warrior caste being outlawed by the victorious rebel Great Houses. The game had piled on strength to Narin’s years of stave training and in his hands the tapered edge of the traditional Investigator’s weapon would shatter bone with ease.

Enchei rose and faced the door to Narin’s bedroom, one foot on the cross-piece of his stool to kick it back and out of his way. He gave a barely-perceptible nod just as Narin heard a small sound from the room beyond that door, the muffled crunch of some clay cup breaking. In his peripheral vision Narin saw Kesh edge forward and Irato push up from his chair, pain briefly showing on his face.

Without further warning the bedroom door crashed open, only to wedge hard against a knife Enchei had driven into the floorboards. A man in grey barrelled through, collided with the immobile door and lurched sideways just as a second bang echoed through the small room. The chest that had been pushed up against the outer door rocked back, jolted far enough by the impact that a second blow slid it half-over a second dagger Enchei had set there.

Narin tensed, ready to strike at the first person to force their way through as the tattooist threw himself into the grey-clad intruder. Enchei slapped away the goshe’s short-sword and slammed his dagger into the man’s ribs hard enough to knock him over. Blood sprayed up as Enchei jerked the weapon out and slashed left with his longer blade. Pinning a second attacker’s weapon against the door Enchei cut at his face then kicked him in the midriff with shocking speed.

Narin never saw the second man fall, his view obscured as one made it through the main door. He smashed down at his first glimpse, moving so fast they were barely out from behind the door when the stave struck. The black-masked figure wore no armour and Narin felt the arm snap on impact. The goshe stumbled sideways, almost dropping the mace he carried as he fell back against the stove. Another took his place and Narin struck again, forcing that one back into those behind while the first yelled something unintelligible.

Suddenly a flash of light burst around the mace head and Narin realised it wasn’t a weapon at all but some sort of lamp. The second masked face lunged forward again, long-knives thrust out towards Narin, but the Investigator had the longer reach and drove forward faster than the other could counter. The wooden staff’s snub tip crunched into the goshe’s face before his blades could deflect it, knives sliding uselessly down the haft as Narin connected and the goshe’s nose shattered.

The man with the mace made no effort to attack – on the contrary he hung back, injured arm hanging useless at his side while another two goshe charged in and Narin was forced to retreat. To his left, Enchei still held the bedroom door – blades flashing through the dull candlelight with unnatural speed. Another man moved in to match him and the pair traded blows, three quick clashes of steel that looked like a stage-fight. From nowhere the goshe’s throat burst open, white skin and shocking red blood tearing open through the black cloth without Narin seeing the lethal blow fall.

He called a warning as one man swung down at Enchei’s back, but the tattooist turned as the sound left Narin’s mouth. Long-knife raised, he caught a high blow then twisted back around to ward off another from the still-dark bedroom doorway. Somehow he caught both, although Narin could only prod forward with his stave to keep his own attacker back.

A second burst of light came from the mace-like lamp, leaving purple traces across Narin’s vision as he lunged again to create an opening for Kesh. The nimble woman had dodged around him and she buried the hatchet’s head into the goshe’s wrist as Narin’s blow was deflected. Without pause Kesh drove her knife into the man’s neck and he fell with a cut-off shriek.

Narin glanced over to see Enchei run one man through while taking a slash on his forearm at the same time. Then the strange purple light pulsed once more – and the next moment everything went pitch-black.

Irato blinked as darkness filled his eyes. He heard Narin cry out and reel from the shock of blindness, but then Irato opened his eyes again and found he could see. The room had become an etching in black and white ; shadows and outlines unfolding before him while the candle’s light remained an orb of white. Kesh and Narin both hurled themselves backwards, falling as they flailed blindly and tripped. Enchei continued to fight, unaffected by the tidal-wave of night that had swamped the room. The tattooist hurled his long-knife towards the main door, looking like he’d discarded it until another goshe fell with the blade buried to the hilt in his throat.

Enchei retreated into the centre of the room, his own knife held ready as the next came for him. Somehow he seemed to slip inside the goshe’s guard – twitching away the man’s blades with his own and a casual slap of the palm. He punched the man left-handed in the ribs and Irato heard agony in the man’s cry. In the next moment Enchei had stabbed him in the neck and dragged the body around to use as a shield.

White-outlined droplets of blood arced around Irato’s vision and at last his sluggish mind seemed to snap back into movement. He saw the nearest goshe advance on Narin, looking to finish the stricken Investigator off. Irato lurched forward and the goshe flinched, stopping dead as he realised Irato wasn’t blinded like the rest.

‘You ?’ the goshe called out, astonished enough to drop his guard.

Irato faced him, almost close enough to touch. The recognition was clear despite the goshe’s mask, but to Irato it meant nothing. All he felt was a cold sensation, like ice water slipping down his gullet. The pain receded, his injured limbs and aching head faded from his awareness as he faced a man he’d perhaps once known.

‘Irat—’ the goshe said, but got no further.

Irato looked down and saw he’d thrust forward with his long-knife. He blinked at the weapon, the savage movement seemingly ingrained and entirely natural to his body. He jerked the weapon clear and the goshe fell with a sigh of air expelled from his punctured sternum.