Peter Newman - The Deathless

‘Of course, Honoured Mother. But what—’

‘—Immediately, dear Roh.’

The cook beamed at the use of her name, then went the wrong way, snatching up a bag and stuffing it with food.

Chandni channelled her mother again as she admonished the cook. ‘Were you not listening? Or is this an act of deliberate insubordination?’

‘But you’ll be wanting something for the baby, and a cloak for your shoulders. Wouldn’t do for you to be seen out there in your nightwear, I’d never forgive myself. And what about your poor feet?’

Behind her, Chandni felt rather than heard someone enter the room. She went to step away but a hand caught her arm.

She turned to find a woman dressed in House Sapphire uniform – but most definitely not House Sapphire – looking at her. The absolute lack of respect in the assassin’s eyes was chilling. She was about to say something when the assassin pulled out, not a sword, but a long, thin needle coated in something that glistened in the gemlight.

Chandni made to pull away but the assassin simply stepped with her, keeping close, the needle arcing down towards Satyendra’s neck.

Instinct took over, and in the next moment she felt something bite into her palm, briefly painful, and then suddenly, worryingly numb.

The point of the needle protruded from the back of Chandni’s hand, quivering inches away from her baby’s skin. Blood rather than poison coated it now.

Chandni exchanged a helpless look with Satyendra, whose little eyebrows raised questioningly, as if asking if this was an appropriate time to cry.

Yes, she thought. This is the perfect time to cry.

If the Bringers saw Pari, they made no comment as they passed out of the chamber, keeping to their ritual path. She listened intently as their robes whispered their way to the door, paused, then came the measured sweep of the door opening and them passing through, one by one, taking the light with them. The door closed with a heavy thud, plunging them into darkness. She heard Rochant sigh.

‘You can come out now.’

Pari used the pillars to navigate through the darkness, letting each one brush cool against her fingertips. ‘How did you know I was here?’

His voice was tired but not without warmth. ‘I didn’t, I just hoped.’

She reached out for him, finding the line of his shoulder in the dark. ‘Ah, there you are.’

‘Yes.’

She wiggled onto the side of the slab, enjoying the feeling of his warmth against her, and leaned down so that her lips hovered just above his. ‘And here I am.’

‘Yes.’ He lifted his head so that the word brought their mouths brushing together.

Pari longed to stay like that but neither her conscience nor her back would allow it. ‘Yes,’ she agreed, breathlessly. ‘But we have to talk, you and yours are under threat.’

‘Something’s happened?’

She told him quickly of the assassins, of the recent deaths in his line and the attempt against baby Satyendra that she’d foiled. He didn’t argue or interrupt until she’d finished.

‘Who would do this to me?’

Pari considered. ‘High Lord Sapphire could have done it, the Bringers implied he was angry with you.’

‘You heard them? By the Thrice Blessed Suns, is nothing sacred?’

‘No, and you should be grateful. Without me things would be much worse.’

Rochant found her hand and squeezed it. ‘You’re right about me but wrong about my High Lord. If he had wanted me removed it would be done publicly, as an example to others. He would never stoop to knives in the dark.’

‘Perhaps that was true once but I hear rumours that High Lord Sapphire is not the man he was.’

She felt Rochant turn his head away. ‘I tell you it is not his way.’

‘Who then?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Even someone as charming as you must have enemies.’

‘Whoever it is has planned well. They’ve taken full advantage of the disruption the ceremony causes.’ She could hear the interest in his voice. Despite the threat, he was intrigued by the puzzle. ‘The assassin you confronted, you said he was in Sapphire uniform?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did it fit?’

Pari thought for a moment. ‘Yes, like it was made for him, in fact.’

‘So that means either he had been working here for some time, or he’d had the uniform made specially.’

Pari shook her head, then realized Rochant wouldn’t be able to see the gesture. ‘Or he found a guard of similar size and stole his.’

‘In any case,’ Rochant continued, ‘this is something that has been planned well in advance.’

‘I agree but how does that help us here?’

‘Motivation. Someone wants this done but is willing to wait to achieve it.’

‘But why? Revenge? Ambition?’

‘That’s the next thing we have to understand.’

‘No,’ said Pari. ‘The next thing we have to do is get you out of here.’

‘Wait, I’m not ready to move just yet.’ Though his new body was exhausted, his mind seemed agile as ever. ‘There are two obvious reasons to remove my line. One, because the person or persons behind this desire my death. Two, the person or persons behind this stand to gain from my death. If I and all of my descendants were gone—’

Pari nodded, ‘—then High Lord Sapphire would be able to raise a new member into the Crystal Dynasties. Who would he have in mind? We need to find out …’

‘And I need to think about the past, cases I have presided over, decrees I’ve made, anything that could have seeded resentment.’

‘While you’re doing that, I’ll go and make sure Chandni is coping with Satyendra. I fear life outside the castle is going to be a bit of a shock for her.’

‘Quite.’

Though she couldn’t see it, she could imagine Rochant’s expression. His face rarely gave much away, but there was a whole language kept in the crinkles around his eyes. She resisted the urge to touch his face, seeking them. ‘It’s good to have you back.’

He took breath to reply but the second door to the chamber opened suddenly, interrupting him.

Pari slid from the slab, darting behind the nearest pillar.

She just had time to tuck herself out of sight before a pair of boots could be heard marching on the stone, and then Dil’s voice, oddly cold, ‘My lord.’

‘Dil? Is that you?’

‘Yes, my lord.’

‘Ah, the mantle of adulthood suits you, captain.’

‘Thank you, my lord.’

Something in Dil’s manner seemed off, but it was hard to read the man by sound alone. Unable to help herself, Pari peeked round the pillar. With the second entrance wide open and light flooding the chamber, she was able to see, not just Dil, but two other guards alongside him.

But I only heard one pair of boots!

She had to hold her hands together to stop them shaking. The assassins were here, and Dil was oblivious. She prepared herself to act. Perhaps between them, they could hold off the killers long enough for help to arrive.

‘Forgive me, my lord,’ said Dil, ‘but you are about to be attacked by an assassin sent by the Tanzanites.’

The comment was so ridiculous, so unexpected, that she nearly came out of her hiding spot to argue.

Luckily Rochant seemed happy to do it for her. ‘Explain yourself, captain. The last I heard, our accords were strong with all the crystal dynasties.’

‘They are, my lord. But after we’ve killed you, that’s what we’re going to tell everyone, and I suspect the accords won’t matter then.’

Dil turned to the man and woman behind him. ‘Find the Tanzanite.’

They immediately drew weapons and split up.

Pari retreated further into the darkness on the opposite side of the chamber. After we’ve killed you! Who is this man? Dil had served Rochant his whole life. Where was the faithful, quiet child she remembered?