Endsinger

  A severed feather drifted in their wake, tumbling out of the sky, over and over upon itself. The wind caught it, buoyed it, keeping it aloft for as long as it could.

  Not forever.

  But perhaps for long enough.

  19

  FALLING

  A darkened room of greasy iron. The rumble of sleepless engines. Whispers of treason.

  “Tonight,” said the first.

  “No. Too much risk,” the second replied.

  “We can make it look like an accident.”

  “No. Even if we were taking down officers, Commander Rei would be our priority target. Not this Fifth Bloom.”

  “If you kill Rei, they’ll catch you. You’re his aide, and the first they’ll blame. We’ll need all three of us to stop the engines when the time comes.”

  “Which is why we don’t touch Rei or Kin until the time is right.”

  “You know our orders. All Upper Blooms are targets now.”

  “No. Too much rides on this. We lay low. And when we meet outside resistance, in the Iishi or outside Kitsune-jō, we take out the engines. Cripple this thing. That’s the plan.”

  “This Kin was promoted by the Inquisition, Bo. He probably has their ink on his arm!”

  “This isn’t the plan!”

  “I’m doing it. I can make it look like an accident.”

  “Shinji, no!”

  “Death to the Serpents, Bo. Death to them all.”

  The rasp of brass on brass, an arm snatched from a clawing grip. A whispered plea overscoring rasping bellows, the clunk of a bulkhead door, heavy boots stomping into the dark. Bo standing in the gloom, glowing eyes downcast as he slammed his fist into the wall.

  “Shit.”

  * * *

  Knife pressed to forehead. Yoritomo’s face looming overhead in the lantern light.

  “But I think no other man should want for it either…”

  Pain.

  “No!”

  Kaori lunged upright in bed, drawing her wakizashi from beneath the pillow, face slick with sweat despite the chill. She blinked, chest heaving, searching the gloom for her attacker. But he was dead now—long dead in the shadow of the Burning Stones. Killed for the Black Fox’s murder. The Stormdancer’s revenge.

  Her own forever denied …

  A faint knock at her door, a silhouette outlined in the rice-paper window. She rubbed her eyes, dragging her hair over her face. What time was it? Monkey’s hour? Dog’s?

  “Kaori.” Maro’s voice.

  “What is it?”

  “A radio message. A transmission.”

  “You can’t take it yourself?” she hissed. “Gods above…”

  “He asked to speak to you personally. And alone.”

  A frown in the gloom. “Who is the transmission from?”

  “I am uncertain. But he claims to be Isao…”

  * * *

  Kin descended the service ladder, the space so narrow his skin rasped against the walls. Dropping down the last few feet onto a suspended walkway, he looked out over the engine room.

  A wide space, ringed with iron gantries and ladders, a transmission block big as houses, the engine thrumming with the power of a thousand horses. The deck beneath his feet swayed with the Earthcrusher’s gait, shock absorbers only partially compensating. Kin surveyed the room, stricken with déjà vu. Blinking in the chi-lantern light, staring at the glittering skins of the Artificers working below, struck to the heart with a single, burning thought.

  I have been here before …

  “Fifth Bloom Kin.”

  Do not call me Kin. That is not my name …

  Kin turned, saw an Artificer on the gantry behind, red eye aglow. He looked to the small sigils marked beside the mechabacus, denoting the Guildsman’s name.

  “Brother Shinji.”

  The Shatei bowed. “You are here for inspection?”

  “Forgiveness. I’m early, I know.”

  The Guildsman nodded. “I thought we might commence with the gear train? We will have a good view of the transmission from the upper walkways if you wish to see?”

  “Very much so.”

  The Artificer bowed, motioned him forward. “After you, Fifth Bloom.”

  “My thanks, brother.”

  Kin turned and clomped along the walkway.

  * * *

  Kaori closed the radio room door, locked it behind her, sweat-slicked from the climb. The listening posts were positioned up the mountainside south of the Kagé village—the better to escape magnetic interference. She’d covered the distance at a run, heart hammering, hair tangled about her face. Sitting at the radio table, she snatched up the microphone.

  “Isao?”

  The boy’s voice was edged with static, dimmed with distance. “Kaori.”

  “What did you give my father on his last birthday?”

  A pause, crackling with white noise. “Atsushi and I carved him a flute of kiri wood.”

  “What was the first tune he played?”

  “Well, he tried to play ‘The Ronin’s Daughter.’ But he was so awful, I wasn’t quite sure. And then I got drunk and sat on it. Accidently, of course.”

  Kaori’s heart ached at the memory, even as she smiled. “Gods above, it is you. How can this be? We thought you’d been killed when they took my father…”

  “Are you alone, Kaori?”

  “Hai.”

  “Are you sure? Look in the corners. Listen. Do you hear a clock ticking?”

  “You mean the spider drone that Guild bitch Ayane let loose up here?”

  “… You found it?”

  “And destroyed it. Would that I could have done the same to her.”

  “Izanagi be praised. Well done.”

  “How is it you still live? You were supposed to be guarding my father during the Kigen attack. If the Guild took him, they should have taken or killed you too.”

  “Kin did kill me. He stabbed me in the back. Atsushi and Takeshi too.”

  “What—”

  “At least as far as Ayane was concerned…”

  * * *

  Kin stood on the walkway above the gear train, looking down into an iron mouth full of chomping, rolling teeth. The Earthcrusher operated on a four-speed transmission, power transferred via a series of colossal cogs to the eight legs pounding the ground outside. The transmission was enclosed in an iron housing edged with safety railing, but from the top it was exposed to the open air, allowing technicians easy access to the gear train. An Artificer stood on a service ladder halfway up the housing, checking a lump of gauges.

  Looking down on the poetry of gears and bearings, Kin was forced to admire Kensai’s genius. The Second Bloom might very well be his enemy, but he spoke the language of the machine better than anyone. He was glad he’d never made the mistake of underestimating his uncle, or believing for a moment Kensai put stock in his story.

  Thankfully the Inquisition hadn’t shared the Second Bloom’s suspicions. It was a blessing they put so much faith in their precious “What Will Be.” In the future Kin even now fought tooth and nail to prevent.

  “Call me First Bloom…”

  Kin smiled grim behind his helm.

  Not if I can help it.

  He turned to Shinji, raising his voice over the clamor. “Tell me brother, how—”

  An iron pipe crashed into his head, swung in a double-handed grip. The impact was almost deafening, head rocked sideways, helm buckling under sledgehammer force. Kin toppled forward over the walkway, pistons whining as he seized the railing with all his strength. White flowers bloomed in his eyes, blood in his mouth, pain overshadowed by terror of the gear chain churning below, waiting to chew him into mince.

  He looked up at the Guildsman who’d struck him, raising his pipe for another swing.

  “For the rebellion, bastard,” Shinji spat.

  “No,” Kin rasped. “Wait…”

  * * *

  “Isao, you’d best explain yourself swiftly…” Kaori hissed.
/>
  “Rat’s blood.” The boy’s voice crackled in the speakers. “I had bladders of it strapped to my back. Kin used a fake knife with a retractable blade when he stabbed me. Easy enough to manage, even for a novice like him.”

  “You faked your murder at Kin’s hands? You knew he’d betray us?”

  “No, no Kaori. It was Kin’s plan. He knew Ayane was a plant sent by the Guild to turn him against us. Or at the very least turn us against him. He knew.”

  Stomach in knots. No spit in her mouth.

  “How?”

  “The shuriken-throwers. Ayane sabotaged them. Well, her spider-drone did anyway, while she was locked in the cells. But she did it too well. Kin figured it out by studying the wreckage. Nobody but a Guildsman would have understood the ’throwers well enough to have them all fail simultaneously, right in the middle of an oni assault.”

  “This doesn’t explain what happened to my father in Kigen!”

  Static hissed down the line as Isao drew a measured breath.

  “Kin spoke to Daichi alone. He knew the drone would be listening—he figured it’d be following him everywhere. So they played chess, passed notes between moves. Out loud, Kin spoke of the plot to destroy Kigen refinery—the plan Ayane was told would end with his betrayal. But in the notes, he explained to Daichi what was really happening. Ayane. The drone. The sabotage. And finally, he outlined a plan to defeat the Earthcrusher, and end the Guild once and for all.”

  Kaori closed her eyes, dreading the answer.

  “How?”

  * * *

  Kin hunched his shoulders as the pipe smashed onto his helm again. Another blow, Shinji now battering at the fingers gripping the walkway, lost in frenzy.

  “Stop! I’m on your side!”

  Kin glanced over his shoulder, down at the transmission’s rolling, cog-lined maw. Another blow landed on his head, stars bursting behind his eyes. One hand slipped and he gasped, teeth gritted, clinging on with everything he had.

  When he was a boy, a fellow initiate told him in the moment before death, life was supposed to flash before your eyes. The triumphs, the mistakes, everything you’d ever been and done, rendered in white, strobing light, right before the lights went out forever.

  And all he could think of was Yukiko.

  That he’d never see her again.

  Never make any of it right.

  No.

  Iron and brass sang as another blow landed, his grip failing.

  No, not like this …

  * * *

  “He plans to destroy the Earthcrusher’s engines, Kaori. His father designed the combustion chambers or somesuch. Kin knew their workings, but he had to be inside to take it down. And so, he’d have to make a convincing enough show for the Guild to take him back.”

  “He asked my father to—”

  “No. Daichi volunteered.”

  “But why would—”

  “He’s dying of blacklung, Kaori. So why not make it count for something?”

  Tears filled her eyes. Grief. Rage.

  “Why are you only telling me this now?”

  “Kagé radio doesn’t exist in Kigen city anymore. We had to make our way north to the Endless Plains, the first listening station in Hatenashi province. We took a risk even contacting you now. For all we knew, the drone was still in the village.”

  “But why didn’t my father tell me before the attack?” she hissed.

  “Because he knew you’d never agree to it, Kaori.”

  “Isao, you hated Kin…”

  “But we loved Daichi. His words made sense. Yukiko was gone. We had no other way to deal with the Earthcrusher.”

  “Yukiko has returned.” Bitterness soured her voice. “She’s thrown in with these Guild rebels, if you can believe it.”

  “We heard about the rebellion. Rumor is they’ve been killing Guild hierarchy. We figured if Kin managed to get back into the good books, he might become a target—the Guildsman who captured the great Daichi, leader of the Kagé insurgency.”

  Kaori bowed her head, grief-stricken. “Gods…”

  “You have to tell them, Kaori. If Yukiko has the ears of these Guild rebels, you have to let them know not to touch Kin. He can take down the Earthcrusher. And the way Daichi talked, the explosion will take half the Tora army with it. Kin is on our side.”

  Kaori closed her eyes, whispering.

  “Father, how could you…”

  * * *

  Fingers slipping from the railing.

  Pipe descending toward his head.

  Denying it all, with everything he could muster.

  Kin lunged with his free hand, stabbing the flight controls on his wrist as the blow crashed on his head. A burst of sparks fired, rockets igniting, another blow to his skull, another, another. Insensate, eyes filmed with blood, fingers slipping free. Twisting as he fell toward the transmission. Blue-white flaring at his back. Spinning and crashing against the safety railing. Teetering, rockets still burning, and with one last ragged gasp, pulling himself over, falling twenty feet to the engine room floor.

  His rocket pack flared again and died, controls at his wrist spewing another bright burst of sparks. Blood in his mouth. Breath burning in his lungs.

  The Artificer on the service ladder cursed, looked up at Shinji on the gantry above.

  “Idiot, you missed!”

  “Well, get down there and finish him!”

  “Get down here and help me!”

  Drawing an iron wrench from his tool belt, the Artificer dropped to the floor to end what his comrade started.

  * * *

  “Kaori, are you receiving me?”

  Betrayal after betrayal …

  “You must speak to Yukiko! Kin isn’t to be touched!”

  Yukiko. Michi. And now her father also? To trust that bastard Guildsman more than he trusted her? To throw away his life at the word of that traitor, and say nothing of it to his only daughter? Handing over his katana to Yukiko was bad enough. After all Kaori had given up. All she’d lost. Years at his side. And in a handful of weeks, Yukiko and that bastard Kin had more of his trust than she’d earned in a lifetime?

  She stood slowly, lips pressed together, thin and bloodless.

  “Kaori?”

  Teeth clenched so hard, her jaw ached.

  “Kaori, can you hear me?”

  “No,” she breathed. “No, I don’t hear you.”

  She flicked the switch, Isao’s pleas clipped into ringing silence.

  * * *

  Shinji pounding down a spiral stairwell, pointing at Kin, shouting to his fellow assassin.

  “Stop him, he’s on his mechabacus!”

  Kin’s fingers were flitting across his chest, a complex dance on the device’s face, like a street minstrel on the strings of his shamisen. The message was being transmitted over the Earthcrusher’s internal channel, a distress call heard by every Guildsman aboard the colossus.

  “Assistance required. Engine room.”

  “Stop him, Maseo!”

  The second Artificer crashed into Kin, trying to pull his hands from the device.

  “Stop him!”

  “Accident.”

  Maseo fell still, staring down into Kin’s battered metal face. “… Accident?”

  Shinji reached the engine room floor, stalking toward Kin, fists clenched. But as he drew close, an upper hatchway cracked open, another Artificer stepping onto the walkway, peering down at the three gathered below.

  “By the First Bloom!” he called. “What happened?”

  The two would-be assassins stared at each other, silent and grim. Kin dragged himself up on all fours and looked to the Artificer on the gantry above. His voice was matter-of-fact.

  “I slipped,” he said.

  “… You slipped?” The Artificer leaned over the railing, his voice incredulous.

  Kin got slowly to his feet, gave a creaking shrug.

  “My pack misfired. I nearly went right into the gear-train. Brother Shinji saved my life.
”

  More Guildsmen began arriving in the engine room, all glowing eyes and chattering questions. They were met with the same explanation, repeated by a bloodied, battered Kin, now surrounded by concerned brethren. There was praise to the First Bloom, praise slapped onto Shinji’s back, until finally it was resolved Kin should visit the medical station. The Fifth Bloom insisted it was too much fuss, that skin was strong though flesh was weak, but finally relented.

  “Very well, brothers. It is better to be certain.” Kin turned to his would-be killer. “Perhaps my savior would be generous enough to escort me?”

  “… Of course, Fifth Bloom.” Shinji bowed. “I would be honored.”

  “The honor is mine, brother. I am in your debt.”

  The excitement faded, Guildsmen returning to their stations, several casting wary glances at the railing above the transmission. It was a miracle the Fifth Bloom had escaped unscathed. To think what might have happened if Brother Shinji had not been there …

  Maseo stepped up and took Kin’s arm, slung it around his shoulder. Shinji supported the other side, and the pair shuffled toward the spiral stairwell, Kin draped between them.

  “Walk slowly, brothers,” Kin said. “My legs are still shaking.”

  A humorless smile.

  “And we have much to talk about, after all.”

  * * *

  The listening post operator looked up as Kaori stepped onto the tower walkway. She dragged her fringe down over her face with one hand.

  “Brother Isao has been compromised,” she said. “Atsushi and Takeshi also. Send word throughout the network. Any intelligence from them must be viewed as suspect. Any transmission from them is to be ignored.”

  The signalman nodded. “Hai.”

  Without another word, she slipped down the ladder and off into the dark.

  20

  CAN’T AND WON’T

  When it came to his “Ten Things I’d Rather Make Sweet, Sweet Love to the Dark Mother Than Do” list, Yoshi had decided “Flying On the Back of a Thunder Tiger” sat quite comfortably at number two.