The Killing Moon (Dreamblood #1)(95)

*

The third day: afternoon. The stir of fresh air. The stillness of the dead is broken by three new voices, peaceless and loud and disrespectful.

“Is he dead yet? I’ve got money on you, boy.”

“Look at those eyes, Amtal! If hate could kill, you’d be dead already.”

“No luck. The big one is breathing. He’s just asleep.”

“Sitting up?”

“Maybe that’s how they do it. Maybe he’s trying to kill you from afar.”

“Maybe he’s laying a curse on your family line.”

“Maybe he’s laying a curse on your family jewels!” Raucous laughter.

“Just feed them, you imbeciles, and let’s go. I don’t like this place.”

Stone and chains; the return of silence. After a time, the scraping begins again.

*

The third night: early evening.

“You’re shivering.”

“N-not… cold.”

“I know.”

“Have I ever… harmed you, Nijiri?”

“Harmed me? No, why do you ask?”

“A v-vision. It was the pranje. I hurt you. Beat you. K-killed.”

“Don’t be foolish, Brother. I’m here, aren’t I? I never sat pranje for you, though I wanted to, trained to. And I listened to the rumors about you, talked to others who attended you. Don’t worry; you’ve never done such a thing.”

A voice that trembles: “In the vision, I wanted to.”

A voice that soothes: “I will never let that happen.”

*

The third night, late, or the fourth morning, early: the small hours. The infinitesimal sounds of stealth. Death creeps on fingers and toes.

Slow, even breathing catches for a moment, then resumes.

“Welcome, Brother.”

Silence.

“Do you want me?”

Silence, pent.

“Take what you need. Use it to free yourself. I’ll wait for you in Ina-Karekh.”

Silence. Stealth abandoned; now there is only breath, ragged with strain.

“N… nnh…”

Waiting.

“Nnnnh…” The voice breaks; it sounds barely human. “N-no. I will n-not. I will not.”

“Brother—No, Brother, don’t—Here. Yes. Yes, Brother.”

The sobs that break the silence are without hope, but the soothing tones that overlay them are confident and loving.

“I wanted to… I would have… Indethe a etun— ”

“Shhh. She has never turned Her sight from you, Brother. You’re Her most beloved servant, and you have served Her long and well. She’ll welcome you when the time comes. You will dwell in Her peace forever. I shall see to that myself.”

“Now, Nijiri. It must be now. The next time—”

“The next time you’ll do whatever you must. But try to hold on, Brother. I cut through the hinges a few hours ago. Now only a push will make the wall come loose. When the guards come again, we can break free.”

“Can’t… hold…”

“You can. I’ll help you. Shhh. Close your eyes. Yes, like that. Shhh. I’ll weave us a dream; would you like that? Not a Gathering, but perhaps enough to keep the madness at bay awhile longer. Now lie still.”

“Nijiri.”

“I’ve always loved you, my Brother. I no longer care what’s right. You are my only Law. Rest now, safe in my dreams.”

Silence.

*

The fourth day.

“The Prince was right, Brother.”

Massive chains rumble, sending forth echoes as stone doors shift. Fresh air wafts through the catacombs. Amid the thrones of the dead, life gathers itself for battle.

“You have indeed become a weapon, but not his. All things serve Hananja’s will—even this. Remember that, no matter what you do.”

The rumbling ceases; footsteps violate the peaceful sanctity of Yanyi-ija-inank as the guards approach.

“And no matter what happens, I shall never leave your side.”

*

The guards stop before the cage’s door. “So, boy. Is he dead yet?” They laugh.

And Ehiru looks up, smiling a smile that chills their souls.

“Yes,” the Reaper says.





36





The Reaper is the abomination of all that Hananja holds dear. Do not suffer such a creature to live.

(Law)





The first guard fell when Ehiru kicked the loosened cage wall off its hinges. The wall was heavy; it knocked one guard to the ground while the other two, caught by surprise, stood there in shock. By the time they reacted, Ehiru was out of the cage and on them.

Nijiri ran out after him, ready to take down whichever one Ehiru missed, but there was no need. Ehiru struck the first guard a slashing blow across the throat, and in the same blurring movement twisted about and took hold of the second guard’s face. Nijiri saw the guard—screaming, blinded by Ehiru’s fingers on his eyes—fumble for his sword. Nijiri rushed forward to assist Ehiru, but abruptly the guard made a strangled sound and sagged to his knees. Ehiru released him. The man fell over on his side, dead.

All things were Hananja’s will. Nijiri clung to that thought. In Her name they would do whatever needed to be done.