He suspected his deathmark had everything to do with it. Either his mark was holding the plague at bay, or slowing its progress. It might kill him eventually, he knew, but not today. Nor tomorrow. And there was still work to be done.
The plague also gave him a potential opportunity. That was why he was creeping amongst the thousands of sleeping forms. That was why he’d chosen a victim near the middle of the group. It would only take one, he knew, and the plague would do the rest.
The slave soldier, like all of them, was young—perhaps fourteen. Young, yes, but a deadly weapon in the hands of his masters. He felt no remorse at what he was about to do. He wished it wasn’t necessary, but this boy’s life had been forfeit from the day he was born. He would be another sacrifice for the greater good. Slowly, carefully, Bane touched him on the ear. The soldier stirred but didn’t awaken.
Bane waited.
Nothing happened.
He touched him again, this time on the cheek. The boy’s eyes fluttered open, but in the dark he wouldn’t really be able to see Bane the way Bane could see him. “Hello?” he said. “Is someone there?”
Bane said nothing, silencing his own breathing.
Still, nothing happened.
Bane vanished, returning to his hideaway, the one he’d once shared with Chavos. Whatever his deathmark was doing to stop or slow the plague was also preventing him from spreading the disease. A pity. A tool like that could’ve come in handy. No matter, he had plenty of his own powers to use. But he would need to move up his timelines, just in case the plague killed him sooner than he thought it would.
And he needed another ally. A stronger one. One who was striving for the same thing as he was but perhaps in a different way. An ally who might even be able to save his life.
Yes. He could sense the violence brewing, like the tingling sensation in the air before a major storm. Not here, but somewhere else…
He shifted to Calypso, to the palace, but it was remarkably empty. A lone guardsman spotted him and called out, but he was already gone, moving to the next likely place for a battle. The east. Ferria. Grian Ironclad had been stirring all kinds of pots as of late.
He reappeared well away from Ferria, just to be safe. The Iron City looked peaceful in the early morning light. There were no shouts, no cries of battle, no smell of blood in the air. Then again, there was something…
He turned to face the sea. There!
He spotted them closing in. From this distance they were small enough to be birds. Below them were ships. Dozens of ships, each bearing the Calypsian dragon. Warmongers and destroyers of peace.
Where there was battle, there would be fatemarked. With any luck, I’ll find the one I’m looking for, Bane thought.
Ninety-Eight
The Southern Empire, Phanes
Falcon Hoza
Falcon’s brothers had heard rumors of the previous night’s disturbance in the slave quarters, and they wouldn’t let it go, prattling on about how weak he was and how “Our father would never have allowed such a mockery to be made of the Hoza name.”
Falcon tuned them out, his mind still clicking through the events that led to his decision to concoct the story. Shanti’s words replayed over and over again in his head. We would have been killed. Unless…
Unless…he did something. Which he did. But he hadn’t saved them, not really. If not for his rash actions they never would’ve been in that position in the first place. Still…she’d made her point in dramatic fashion.
He was emperor, and he did have power. But could he really do anything for the slaves’ plight? He shook his head. He could, but he knew the Phanecians would never allow it. They were too accustomed to the slaves, too happy to be served, to have the worst jobs done for them while they ate and drank and carried on their slothful lifestyle. There would still be a rebellion, only it would be his own people rising up against him.
“Are you even listening, brother?” Fang shouted, finally breaking through the fog.
“Yes, yes, it was a foolish decision, I heard you,” Falcon said, hoping they would go away.
“That’s not what he said,” Fox said, rounding the other side of the throne. He was holding something—a book. The book Shanti had given him. The last page was ripped out and clenched against the front cover.
Falcon frowned. His brothers were being insolent, even for them. “You ransacked my quarters?”
Fang said, “I was looking for an emperor, but there’s none to be found in all of Phanes.”
“You have crossed a line.”
“No, brother, we are on the same side of the line. It is you who has crossed over, and this is the final piece of proof. Father would be ashamed of you.”
Anger boiled up inside Falcon. “Father was a tyrant!” He instantly regretted the words, not because they weren’t true, but because of the risks associated with speaking them. Thankfully, no one but his brothers were around to hear.
“Father made Phanes great again. You are disassembling it stone by stone.”
Falcon could sense something else lingering on the tip of his brother’s tongue. “Say your piece, brother. I am all ears.”
Fang hesitated for the briefest of moments, and then said, “I. Challenge. You.”
“On what grounds?” Falcon growled. Inside, his heart was beating too fast. This is it. It came sooner than I expected…
“Right to rule. You are the eldest, but not the strongest,” Fang said.
“I’ve defeated you both numerous times in combat.” Falcon pointed out, using the same argument he’d relied on time and time again. Please back down. Inside, however, he knew they wouldn’t, not now that the challenge had been issued.
“Not at the same time,” Fox said, grinning. “Songs will be sung of this fight.”
“You’re both challenging me?” It wasn’t unprecedented, but he didn’t expect it in this case. The challenges were always to the death—only one emperor could emerge from the circle. He’d thought Fox would back down and let Fang rule.
Fang said, “Either of us would be better than you, and two of us improves our odds.”
“But at least one of you will die, too.”
“True,” Fang said. “But we’re willing to risk it for the good of Phanes.”
For the good of Phanes, Falcon thought wryly. Strangely, he felt no fear, only resignation. This day was inevitable from the moment his younger brothers had been born with malice in their hearts.
“May the strongest emperor survive,” Falcon said, leaving them in his wake.
Shanti came to his quarters on her own terms, just after the evening meal. News of the challenge had swiftly spread throughout the palace, and then through all of Phanea, if not the entire empire. With the stream network, the Four Kingdoms would know soon, too. A palace officiant had informed Falcon several hours earlier that the challenge would take place the following day, on neutral ground.
Shanti said, “I heard,” and closed the door.
“You’re not happy? I thought you would be.”
“You’re the best thing that’s happened to Phanes in a long time,” she said.
Her compliment, though undeserved, sent a thrill through him. “Says a rebel slave.”
“Yes, I do. And I do not make such statements lightly.”
“Is that why you kicked me in the face?”
She cringed. “Sorry, but I needed to be certain.”
“Of what?”
“Of you.”
He mulled over her words, remembering the man who’d come to help her, who’d tried to kill him. “Who was—”
“You didn’t recognize him?” she interrupted. “That was Jai Jiroux.”
“What? But he had—” Red skin, narrow eyes, a slight limp. Falcon shook his head at his own prejudice. He’d sized up the man as a faceless slave using three very vague details, even though he’d known there was something familiar about him. “A disguise,” he said.
“In fairness, it is an effective one. I had to lo
ok twice to make certain my eyes didn’t deceive me.”
“You know him from the Garadia escape,” Falcon said. A statement, not a question.
She nodded anyway. “Yes. We are…close.”
“Lovers?” Falcon said, forcing a thin smile. He wondered how the former Garadia Mine Master had managed to infiltrate the palace. Then he realized he didn’t really care.
“None of your business,” she said, but it wasn’t a reprimand. There was a brief moment of silence as she stood inside the door. “I’m sorry I pushed you so hard. I was hoping you would be able to make a difference without bloodshed.”
“It’s fine,” Falcon said, and he was surprised how much he meant it. The last fortnight had been more interesting than the last eighteen years of his life. “But there is always bloodshed. That’s something I learned as a boy.”
“What will happen?” she asked.
“My brothers and I will fight to the death. Two will die, one will emerge the emperor.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow.”
“So soon?”
“We can’t leave the empire perched on the edge of a knife. There are kingdoms to conquer, wars to be won!” The only solace Falcon took from any of it was that the spectacle would not be public.
“Perhaps I can do something.”
“You might not want to,” Falcon said, taking a deep breath. He felt as if a giant weight was crushing him into the floor.
“Why not?”
“Because I have something to tell you. A truth, long kept from you.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What truth?”
“It’s about your mother,” he said.
There was a slight tremble of her lip as he began to tell the story of how her mother had died.
When he finished, Shanti said nothing, but he could sense the grinding of her teeth behind her pursed lips. She had to be saddened by the news, but only anger showed in her posture, her expression. After a moment in which her fierce green eyes seemed to bore through him, impaling him on a spike, she turned, opened the door, and left, slamming it behind her.
And Falcon knew, whatever she’d been considering doing to help him on the morrow had been lost the moment he told her the truth.
Despite that, he felt relieved. Exhausted, but weightless, as if his feet were lifting from the floor.
Ninety-Nine
The Southern Empire, Phanes
Jai Jiroux
Jai had gone to sleep as soon as his evening work was finished, but found himself being shaken awake. “Jai!” Shanti hissed.
“Erm?” he replied.
“If you want to kill the emperor, I will allow it.” She spoke the words directly in his ear, so that any of the other slaves who were pretending to sleep couldn’t hear.
He jolted up, fully awake in an instant. She put a finger to her lips, motioning for him to follow. They snuck from the quarters and into the corridor. The guards patrolled this area regularly, so they wouldn’t have long.
“What happened?” Jai asked.
“Nothing,” she said, but her eyes were a moving target.
“Tell me,” he said, placing a steadying hand on her shoulder. Like a brittle stalk blown over by the wind, she fell into his arms. Her body shook silently, her tears wet against his neck.
“She’s dead,” she sobbed. “My mother is dead.”
For a moment he was stunned, thinking of his own mother, how beautiful she had looked as she danced phen sur—just as he remembered her. Then he remembered the story of how Shanti’s father and sister had been murdered, how only she and her mother had survived. If her mother was dead, it was only her left. He felt his own eyes welling with tears, his heart cracking to see her in such pain.
“I wish I could have met her,” he said, immediately wondering whether it was the right thing to say. He shook his head. “Not just her. All of them.”
She looked up at him, her eyes moist with tears, mixing with the black ones etched on her cheeks. Though her pain flowed over her like a waterfall, she was as beautiful as he’d ever seen her. “Me too,” she said, raising a hand and wiping one of his tears away with the back of her thumb. He hadn’t even felt it drip from his eye.
Jai’s expression turned serious. “How?”
She shook her head, and the sadness seemed to disappear, replaced by anger. “The wound is too fresh. Perhaps one day I will be able to speak of it…”
Jai remembered what she’d said before, about killing the emperor. “I am yours to command,” he said.
“I—” She hesitated, biting her lip. “You heard about the challenge from Fang and Fox?”
“It’s all anyone is talking about,” Jai said. “Tomorrow the world will be two Hozas better.”
“The frustrating thing is, Falcon was honest about my mother. He could’ve told any lie, or said nothing at all, but he chose to tell me, so that I wouldn’t protect him anymore.”
Jai’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve known the Hozas for a long time, Shanti. It’s a trick. It’s what they do. Falcon is the same as the others; he’s not what he appears to be.”
She blew out a breath. “You saw what he did last night, how he saved us. I gave him the ultimate test and he passed.”
Jai had thought of nothing else since it happened. It was…strange. And unexpected. Jai had originally believed it was because Falcon seemed to have feelings for Shanti, but that didn’t make sense. If that’s all it was he could’ve had Jai executed for trying to kill him.
“There’s more,” Shanti said. Jai raised his eyebrows, waiting. “I told him who you are.”
“You did what?”
“He barely batted an eye. He almost seemed to have expected it.”
“Then why am I still here? He should’ve had his guards take me back to Garadia, or worse.” Falcon Hoza showing some kindness toward a pretty slave girl was one thing, but sparing Jai was something else entirely.
Shanti said, “I know you don’t trust him, and neither do I, not fully, but there’s more to him than you think. He’s a brilliant actor playing the role he was born to play, but behind closed doors he’s kind and insecure and always seeking an escape from his real life.”
Behind closed doors. Jai tried to control the flush of jealousy, but found it impossible.
“Jai,” Shanti said, reading his expression. “We have only talked, I swear by the light of the sun goddess.” She touched his cheek, grazing her lips against his. It sent shockwaves through his very soul. “My heart is broken, else I would give myself to you this very moment.”
Jai swelled with happiness and desire, tempered only by his remembrance of the pain she was in. He held her against him, their heartbeats falling into step until they felt like the rhythm of a single heart.
And though Jai had only seen the dark side of the emperor, he trusted Shanti’s instincts implicitly. They’d been through too much together for him to do anything different. A plan began to form in his head.
“If Falcon is winning against his brothers, we shall let him win,” he said. “But if he is losing…we will crush his brothers as soon as they defeat him.” It was the best compromise he could offer.
“Thank you,” Shanti said against his neck.
“I want to show you something,” Jai said.
One-Hundred
The Southern Empire, Phanes
Falcon Hoza
Falcon had a feeling the “neutral” location for the challenge had been planned by his brothers, and perhaps his own generals too. It was clear from their expressions that they were tired of being blocked by the emperor, and would be happy for a change of rule. Yes, they’d each wished him support from the gods, but their hearts weren’t in it.
The fight, of course, would take place in the large canyon where the slave army had been hidden away for years, living and training for the day when they would finally be set loose on Phanes’ enemies.
The slaves had formed a giant circle around the “ring,” and were charged with pushing an
y of the competitors back into the fray if they attempted to flee. Only victory would allow them to step without. Falcon remembered a story his father had loved to tell, about how one of his brothers had once challenged him. Needless to say, Vin Hoza had come out on top, and was never challenged again.
Falcon had seen Shanti and the crippled slave he now knew to be the infamous Jai Jiroux boarding the large slave chariot. They would be in attendance, serving the many important men and women who had been invited to the private battle. Falcon had tried to catch either of their eyes, but they’d both ignored him completely.
It is better this way, he thought. It shall be easier to die knowing I have no one on my side.
And die he would, he knew. Though he was a master of phen ru, his brothers were too. One on one, he’d defeat either of them eight times out of ten, but facing them together…his chances were slim. The odds makers were giving him one in sixty, which he thought was generous in his favor. Perhaps I should have bet on myself, he thought wryly. It’s not like I’ll need my wealth where I’m going. And it would mean less wealth for one of his brothers to inherit.
Beyond the army of slaves, the canyon walls stood like massive sentinels, or perhaps witnesses, their heads heavy and downcast. The sun had not yet breached their guard, and the ring was shrouded in shadows.
Fang approached him. He raised the fist that was meant for brothers, one of the Three Great Pillars of Phanes. Falcon just stared at it, for fists would be the least of his worries today. All three of them were strapped with blades on their wrists and feet, in the traditional Phanecian manner. Fang only laughed, mimicking the gesture to Fox, who returned it.