Wolf's-own: Weregild (45 page)

Malick licked his lips as Fen pulled back, scrutinized the gray gaze looking back at him, but the intense, even stare could mean too many things, and he apparently wasn't going to be allowed the time to find out what. He cut another look up at Joori, saw the clamped jaw, the urgency of his gaze, then merely curled a snarky smile at Fen, said, “Woof,” and stepped aside.

Fen smirked, but it was flat, and when he peered down the stair as Malick moved out of his way, it curled wider, almost wicked. Shig was there, leaning against the wall and smoking, her bright, multicolored hair, without the braids now, pulled back into a neat, subdued tail at the back of her neck. A crutch was propped beside her.

"I've decided I can live with it,” Fen told her. “But it seems I won't have to. I'm no one's redemption."

He didn't look at either of them again, just made a point of trotting a little too carelessly down the steps, refusing to limp, and only paused when Shig stuck the crutch out, blocking his path. “Sure, Fen,” she said, took a long drag and blew a thin stream of smoke into his face. “But then, you still think you have to do everything by yourself, even though you know damned well you can't.” She shrugged, pulled the crutch back, and shoved it into Fen's chest. “Here. This'll help you get to your suicide faster. I'll tell Caidi not to bother to wait for you."

Fen's teeth clenched tight, his eyes blazed, and he grabbed the crutch, swung it back over his shoulder the way Samin swung his sword just before he decapitated someone. Malick sucked a quick breath in, tensed to jump between them, but Shig didn't even blink. In fact, she smiled. Held her smoke out to Fen.

"Don't touch Joori.” Fen's voice was low and thick, the threat even more clear than the crutch raised over his shoulder like a ready bludgeon. “It wasn't his fault."

Shig turned a slow look up the stairs, past Malick, before she let it drift back down to Fen. “You Fens punish yourselves so thoroughly, anything I might do would be redundant.” She shrugged and waved the cherry smoke under Fen's nose. “Kinda takes the fun out of it."

Fen stared at her for a long, long moment, rigid, too obviously close to murderous. And then he just growled, flipped the crutch down, and shoved it back at her. He took the smoke, stuck it in the side of his mouth, and walked away.

Malick and Shig merely watched him go. Strangely, so did Joori.

"He thinks it's Asai,” Shig said quietly. “But it's really just him."

Malick slanted a curious look at her. “You can ‘hear’ him?"

"No.” Shig snorted dully and shook her head as she lit herself another smoke. She propped the crutch against the wall. “I just know how he thinks.” A wink as she squinted through a puff of smoke. “I watch. I see."

"If there's no one about who will tell him he's a failure,” Joori put in behind Malick, “he'll invent someone."

Malick turned to him, eyes narrowed. “All right, what's his too-likely very stupid and almost certainly suicidal plan?"

Joori ventured out into the hallway. Malick wasn't surprised to see Husao right behind him.

"Jacin doesn't plan,” Joori said. “Jacin does. The Ancestors said I'm a key, so he's going to destroy the lock.” He darted a glance over his shoulder at Husao then back again to Malick. “It's a bit simple for a grand plot, so I guess I'm not surprised you had to have it explained to you."

Malick might have scowled at that, but he let it go. “And you agreed to it?” he asked, surprised. Joori was the last person Malick suspected would let Fen walk out of here to do what he meant to do.

Joori shrugged. “You won't let him go alone, even if you have been forbidden. I don't really care if you risk your soul, as long as he walks away from whatever's to come. And this one—” He jerked his head over his shoulder at Husao. “—he can't stand that his son's Blood is being used.” His mouth pulled down, and he turned to face Husao squarely. “That's why you promised him what you did. You never actually cared about my brother. You helped him because he meant something to your schemes, not because he meant something to you. And the worst part about it is that you have no idea, nor do you care, what that's done to him, on top of everything else."

Husao had the good grace to look away, but his expression showed none of the remorse Joori was probably looking for. Joori's mouth tightened, and he turned back to Malick. He placed his fist over his heart and dipped his head low. “Kamen-seyh,” he began, caught himself when his voice wobbled a little, and cleared his throat. “Kamen-seyh, there is nothing I can say to—"

"There isn't,” Malick cut in—partly because there really wasn't, and partly because the entire family truly had suffered more than their share, and he saw no point in adding to it. “It was a mistake, Joori, but you should never have been put into the position of making it. All of us share the burden of what happened today, but it was Umeia and Asai who allowed it to happen. I might have done exactly what you did when the dust settled—I don't mourn for Umeia."

"But....” Tears were crowding Joori's eyes, and he turned a quick glance at Shig then winced and looked down. “Yori,” he breathed, “and Cai... Caidi."

"Will go to Wolf and be reborn,” Malick said gently. “You'll see them again, and that's the best I can offer you. You made a mistake. So did I.” Because he'd always had shit timing, and it just kept getting worse. And his mistake was the biggest, when it came down to it. Umeia might not have had Malick's own power, but she'd always been more
Temshiel
than Malick had been, no matter how he'd tried to outdo her in hardness and indifference. He'd trusted her with his mortal's heart, and he should have known better. He'd been shown better only days ago, and today had still happened.

Joori shook his head, but couldn't seem to lift his gaze from the floor. “Shig,” he said and just stopped there, like he couldn't make himself say another word.

"Shig's forgiveness is up to Shig,” Malick said, “and I don't have time to concern myself with it now.” He cut a rueful look at Shig. “At least we know she's not going to kill you.” He was pleased when she managed to pull up a smirk, though it was weary and quite sad.

Malick turned to Husao, then nodded at Joori. “Is he right? Did you make your promise to Fen for the amulets?"

Husao's mouth twisted down. “I'm not quite certain an explanation of my reasons is either necessary or yours for the asking."

Malick's teeth tightened. “Then try
demanding
. Let's don't forget, Husao—
you
I can kill."

"He loves Fen in his way,” Shig put in, her voice tired and dull. “He just doesn't recognize the sentiment.” She sat now on the bottom of the stairs, staring at the lit end of her smoke, absently bobbing it up and down to force tiny smoke rings from the end. “You
Temshiel
with your hard hearts. You work so hard on forgetting what love is that you have no idea what to do with it when you have it. P'raps if you could remember what it was, you wouldn't have to manipulate so much to get what you want.” She took a drag and blew the smoke out slowly. “And p'raps mortals wouldn't hate and distrust you so much."

She turned, peered at Malick intently. “You're back at Zero, Kamen. You've started again. Don't fuck it up this time, yeah?"

Malick's eyebrows shot up, but Husao growled. “Impudent tripe,” he snapped. “You dare to interpret the mind of—"

"Oh,
shut
the fuck up,” Malick grated. “That right there—that's what I've always hated about this business. That's what made me want to walk away from every one of you and never have to deal with you again. Immortality doesn't make us better, it makes us afraid to lose it. Power doesn't make us superior, it makes us lazy. We're supposed to be the teachers of mortals, we're supposed to guide them to keep the laws of the gods, and yet when those laws were broken by our own kind, I asked for justice and found I stood alone.” He looked right at Husao, face set. “Even Skel's father would not demand a reckoning from his god, because he was too afraid he might be turned away.

"Yori lived less than two decades, and still, I'd put her honor against yours any day. Now, make up your fucking mind—are you prepared to take a stand or not?"

Husao looked away, jaw tight. “I intend to do what I can to the limits of the laws.” His chin lifted, and he looked back at Malick. “That is all I will promise.” He held up his hand when Malick's lip curled up in a sneer. “
However
,” he went on, “your Catalyst already changes the future, I can see the ripples in Fate winding out from the void of his presence even now, and the laws glance off him just as fluidly as magic does. The Paradox is perhaps the key, but the Catalyst is a battering ram."

Malick narrowed his eyes a little, but it wasn't at what Husao had said. There was a light tug at his veil, and he angled a sharp look at Joori. “Where is Morin?"

Joori blinked, his brow beetling when Shig barked out a surprised laugh, which rather answered Malick's question. Damn it
all
.

"How was Fen planning on getting out to Yakuli's?” he asked Joori.

"Steal Asai's coach,” Joori answered immediately. “Limp if he had to."

"
Shit
!” Malick shut his eyes, thought about it. He could stop Morin easily, but... perhaps it was better this way. At least if Malick knew where everyone was and he kept them close, he could keep an eye on them all, and Fen was less likely to do something deadly stupid if his brother was with him. “He's not limping,” Malick muttered as he opened his eyes and sighed. “And I imagine he'll get more than one surprise when he gets to Yakuli's.” He looked at Joori's confused frown and rolled his eyes. “You Fens just can't seem to take simple instruction, can you? A fucking family trait, innit?"

Joori was shaking his head. “What? I don't know what you're—"

"Shig,” Malick cut him off, “go find Samin and tell him we're moving the plan up a few hours. I'll want you both ready in five minutes.” Shig said nothing, just kept chuckling to herself, something dark and without real humor, and went to do as he'd bidden. He turned back to Joori. “Your brothers are both being idiotically brave. I don't imagine I could stop you from doing likewise unless I chained you up and left you here with an armed guard."

Joori stared at him, suspicious. “I assumed you'd take me along, whatever happened. Your ‘key', after all."

"Yeah, well, I was thinking of picking the locks myself,” Malick muttered, and realized only that second that he was completely sincere. He'd planned to take Fen along to Yakuli's because he knew Fen wouldn't allow him a choice, but Joori's presence had been conspicuously absent from the scenario of anarchy and mayhem Malick had sketched out for Samin earlier. Somewhere in the back of Malick's mind, at the bottom of his heart, the suns had stopped being such a horrifying threat, and been replaced with the peril of causing Fen one more second of pain. Malick shook his head. “Your brothers have altered the plan a little, but they haven't ruined it, yet."

Now, Joori looked alarmed. “Wait, your ‘plan’ was to let Jacin go and do whatever—?"

"Why would I stop him, Joori? This is his
right
. It's
your
right, it's Morin's. I swore to help him, and I intend to.” He waved back at the door to his rooms. “There are weapons in the chest beside the bed. Arm yourself as you prefer. We haven't time for lessons on how to use them all, so only take what you think you can swing and do some damage.” He waved again, more forcefully this time, until Joori shook his head with a clench of teeth then did as Malick had told him.

Husao watched Joori go then turned a narrow stare on Malick. “Just exactly what
do
you plan?"

Malick merely grinned, shrugged. “Yakuli's not the only one with his own private army."

[Back to Table of Contents]

He chose a small axe first, because he knew how to swing one—all out and from the shoulder, aim for the joints, and make the cut clean. He chose a long, curved knife, because the one he'd had at home for slaughtering had the same arc, though it was a little shorter, and he'd appreciated the way the curve lent a certain neatness and precision when cutting the throat of an animal for the table. He chose several others simply for their look, the way they fit his grip, and though one looked suspiciously like a boning knife, it was sharp and the small serration at the tip would likely....

Joori sucked in a breath and made himself stop thinking. He'd never thought himself particularly bloodthirsty, but he'd learned quite a lot about himself today, and he didn't think he liked any of it.

"It isn't how many you take."

Shig's soft voice came from behind him where Joori crouched on Malick's floor, beside Malick's bed, arming himself with Malick's weapons. He didn't turn, only paused for a slow breath, curled the short sword he was holding in his palm, testing its weight. “No?"

"It's how you use what you have,” Shig told him. “Here."

Joori turned just in time to see a flash of silver netting coming at him, and he reached instinctively to catch it. It runnelled over his hand like musical water, catching the light of the lamp on Malick's bedside table.

"It's Fen's.” Shig shrugged and looked away. “Guess he forgot it."

Joori's mouth tightened. Sure he had. “What am I supposed to do with it?"

"Huh.” Shig's eyebrow went up, slightly mocking. “If you really need me to tell you, no amount of weapons is going to help you.” Her mouth tilted up at one corner at Joori's glare, but she only shrugged again. “Wear it. You made your brother a promise. I assume you want to at least try to keep it."

"How did you—?” Joori stopped, holding back a growl. He knew exactly how she'd known, and she probably knew exactly what he was thinking now. And what could it possibly matter? There was nothing in his head for which he didn't wish he could find words, and she'd been right before: he didn't bleed any redder than she did. “Thank you,” he made himself say. He turned the mail in his hands then laid it carefully on Malick's bed and stripped his jacket. He dared a glance over his shoulder as he took off his tunic and pulled on the light armor, trying not to remember what had happened the last time Jacin had worn it. At least there was no blood on it that he could see.