The Killing Moon (Dreamblood #1)(37)

Nijiri sighed and shifted to sit on his knees. Ehiru took his hand as a pranje attendant would have, to help him focus. “Like a forty of children dance a prayer inside my skull, Sharer Mni-inh, with every one of them wearing thick, heavy sandals. Forgive my irreverence.”

Mni-inh let out a chuckle breathy with relief. “Under the circumstances I’ll gladly forgive you, Apprentice. Do you remember what happened?”

The boy’s face grew momentarily still. “I remember… an alley. No. A darker place. There were creatures. I… I saw them breathing…” Abruptly he shook his head. “I remember nothing more.”

The boy’s furrowed brow and tight lips said otherwise, but Ehiru did not press and neither did Mni-inh. Instead the Sharer touched his other hand. “Your memory may return in time. For now, you need rest—”

“Sharers,” Ehiru said. “Always putting body before soul.” He got to his feet, pulling the boy up with him; Nijiri swayed a bit but then steadied. “The threat to the people is more important than our comfort, Mni-inh. We’ll both rest after we’ve made our report.”

The boy focused on him, nodded agreement. Mni-inh rolled his eyes.

“Gatherers, too stubborn for sanity!” He mimicked Ehiru’s voice. “Very well. I’ll send an acolyte to wake the Superior—”

“No need, Mni-inh.”

They turned. The Superior stood in the doorway of the healing alcove, flanked by Dinyeru, a senior Sentinel. A hastily donned robe draped the Superior’s shoulders, but his eyes were clear—and hard.

Two more warriors stood beyond him, Ehiru noticed abruptly. Strangers, wearing the red and gold of the Sunset Guard.

“Gatherer,” the Superior said quietly, “present yourself for the judgment of the Hetawa.”

Nijiri gasped. Ehiru stared back at the Superior, uncomprehending. Mni-inh recovered first. “Superior, you cannot believe that Ehiru…”

“I believe many things, Mni-inh.” The Superior stepped aside; Dinyeru and the two strangers came into the alcove. In Dinyeru’s hands was an odd contraption—two long, hinged cylinders sealed together down the length, each ending in a round bulb. Manacles, meant to enclose the forearms and force the hands into closed fists—a rogue’s yoke. Ehiru had seen the device many times as a child, while cleaning items in the Hetawa’s archival vault. It had never been used in his lifetime.

“I believe in the beneficence of our Goddess,” the Superior continued. “I believe in the honor and judgment of our Prince. Therefore I must believe it when his guardsmen come to tell me that a child was murdered in the city last night—a companion of the Kisuati ambassador Sunandi Jeh Kalawe. Your commission, Ehiru, was she not?”

Ehiru, shocked, made several attempts to speak before his voice worked. “Yes—that northblooded youngster. Yes, her body…”

“The child’s body showed terrible desecration, Ehiru, of soul as well as flesh. It was found in an alleyway.” The Superior’s voice never rose, but his words grew sharp as blades. “What have you done with the Kisuati woman’s body, Gatherer?”

Ehiru stared at him. “Done? There was no body. I declared an abeyance until I could discuss the matter with you—”

“No, there’s no body. Her bedchamber is disordered by the signs of struggle; a weapon was found but she is gone.” The Superior shook his head then, sorrow eclipsing anger in his face. “It’s clear the madness hasn’t taken you fully, Ehiru, or you would have been unable to stop yourself from killing your apprentice tonight. I thank the Goddess for that. Because of it I cannot cast you out; some part of you is still our black rose.”

“All of him, Superior!” Mni-inh stepped forward. “I’ve examined this man. His reserves are gone, true. He may be afflicted by the early symptoms, but there’s none of the spirit-wide corruption you’re accusing him of. For the Dreamer’s sake, he’s empty, Superior—if he had taken a child and a woman and then attacked Nijiri, he wouldn’t be!”

“The woman was alive when we left,” Nijiri said, stepping closer to Ehiru. His tone bordered on disrespectful, Ehiru noted through a haze; he would have to take the boy to task for that. “She said she was leaving town, she and her girl. She feared an assassin would be sent, to kill her for her secrets.”

“That may be,” the Superior said, though he sounded less than convinced, to Ehiru’s ears. “An Assay of Truth will determine the fullness of it. In the meantime, the Prince demands that the threat to his city be subdued.”

Behind him Nijiri was compounding his disrespect, speaking with unseemly loudness. “The creature that killed the child was not Ehiru-brother. I saw it! It touched me and, and—” He faltered, took a shaky breath. “It was not my mentor. Ehiru-brother fought the creature off me, saved me. It was someone else. Something else.”

“No other Gatherers went out last night, Nijiri.” The Superior had regained control of himself; his voice was inflectionless. “Sonta-i and Rabbaneh had a much-deserved night off. The girl-child died in obvious agony, but no fatal wounds had been inflicted on her before death.”

“That’s because a Reaper—”

“That is a myth, Apprentice,” said the Superior, and Nijiri flinched into resentful silence. “A myth told around campfires to make the desert nights pass. A rogue Gatherer has no special power or invincibility; he is nothing more than a pathetic creature consumed by his own weakness who may have to be put down for the safety of all.”