Kingdoms on Fire

7. Belik

7

Belik

Belik grimaced. All these stairs were killing his legs. Why did all Watchmen need to be in the highest place in the city? They had a sputtering level of Talent, but that Talent could be used anywhere. Still, people liked their mystical beliefs about the job. They liked to believe that all the news coming from these high cells was perfectly accurate, removed from the biases of the world.

As though they’ve never met a person before.

“Do you want to pause?” Shiro asked just behind him.

Belik started to snarl at him but thought better of it. “Maybe to answer that stupid question. No.”

Behind Shiro’s head of dark hair were two more Tanyu. Only one was visible in this blindly winding staircase. In front of him walked one more. Four should do it. Maybe he’d add a couple more.

The problem was that no one could be spared from their duties. There weren’t enough capable people as it was for all the tasks that needed to happen simultaneously for a smooth takeover. Manning the city wall alone took too many people. Several others stationed themselves around the barracks to keep the army true to their word to back the new reigning champions. Some had resisted, of course. Skirmishes. What rankled was that the Tanyu hadn’t closed the net, plugged all the holes to prevent renegades from escaping. Dozens of soldiers had. Belik’s forces could deal with them when they showed their faces again. The rest of the military’s doubt was in Belik’s favor, and they were held in tentative check by the few generals to whom he had promised generous riches.

During the raid, a few Tanyu had stood out as his most loyal supporters. They were the ones who cut the Keepers’ throats, who didn’t cry and moan about where Firian was. Weapons in his hands.

He struggled up a few more steps. He was being a fool—pain subsided in the Unreal. In an instant, he was there. Thoughts of Chetana floated like damned ghosts in the corner of his eye. It was all he could do not to whirl around and fight her, but he knew she wasn’t really there. If she had been, there would be no mistaking it. Instead, he swirled colors against the black like flavors in a pot of soup. He floated in the midst of them, touching the silky texture of the colors floating by. This is where he went if he wanted to completely forget where he was. It was as good as sleeping.

Almost. Belik hadn’t slept since this raid began. After this crucial task, he could rest for a short while before continuing. Delegate to Master Nedi and Shiro until he could join them again.

His foot reached the top landing. He came to himself again. The room at the top of the palace was large and circular, ornate and white. Around the windows there was yellow discoloration. A man sat cross-legged on a lush deep purple rug. The Watchman looked placidly at them as they entered, his old face scored with deep wrinkles.

“Are you the Watchman?” Belik asked, though he already knew the answer.

“Yes.” The voice was husky from disuse. The single word came out clearly, but a little like a sigh.

One of Belik’s eyes squinted behind his glasses. “What is your name?”

“My name is not important. You are the Tanyu who have ravaged my city,” he said, making no move to attack or defend himself. The Watchman’s breath sounded loud in the quiet. How much had he already told neighboring cities?

“I would like to know it,” Belik said.

“My name is Velmay Rancin.” The man’s tone was the same as before, even and breathy.

That was enough. Belik jerked his chin in the direction of the old man. He averted his eyes at the moment Shiro snapped his neck. The man’s death was necessary, one of a short list along with the Keepers, and the soldiers who resisted. The Watchman controlled information.

Belik scratched his ear, trying to replace the sound of the crack with something else, then looked carefully at the man’s face. Slowly, he came closer. The impending trip back down the staircase occupied as much of his thoughts as the man slumped in front of him.

The man’s skin was smooth like tooled leather. His eyes had been gray. That much he’d noticed as soon as they’d walked in. He sat with the quiet poise of a man who had never had anywhere else to go. Typical Kingdom bone structure. He’d just gotten a haircut. As Belik circled, he saw the perfect edge to his hairline. The man wore chipping paint on his nails. That surprised him, though he couldn’t have said why. He stretched his jaw, ready to begin.

With the ease of a bird in the air, he entered the Unreal. Instantly, he had sharply-cut hair, badly painted nails, and soft leather skin, scored with age. He knew the Tanyu with him were doing the same.

After taking a moment to modulate his voice, he reached toward the Watchman in Redshore. “Lady Kiria, the Second Keeper, has run away with Firian Kess, the former Tanyuin Head, compromising the safety of Brithnem in this time of crisis…”