Moon's Artifice Read online

  ‘Thief, eh ? Maybe that’s a better Ascendant to be looking down on this goshe anyway,’ he muttered.

  ‘In that, you are correct,’ called a deep voice from a way down the street.

  Narin yelped and whirled around. His hands moved automatically, bringing his stave up to the guard position before he even saw the threat. The Investigator hesitated as no attack came. All he could see was a bearded man ten yards off, but one who’d appeared silently and now stood in the middle of the street watching him.

  ‘Who are you ?’ Narin demanded, moving away from the injured man to give himself space if an attack came. The tip of the stave he kept in line with the stranger’s face, but it was the dark corners of the street he was more concerned with.

  ‘I have many names,’ the stranger said, not moving. ‘I think you’ll be able to guess one at least.’

  Narin stopped and gave the man his full attention. He was big, extremely big in fact – a few inches taller than Narin but vastly broader. His face was tanned and weathered ; darker than a local’s, with a long neat beard of black curls that suggested southern origin, House Redearth or somewhere within its hegemony of lesser House-states. The man had long hair drawn back like a nobleman’s and the cut of his white clothes suggested warrior caste, but he wore no sword or pistol – nor was there a badge of House visible on his clothes. Instead, there was only a black spiral embroidered on the left-hand side of his coat, studded with glinting crystals, the pattern continuing seamlessly down an ornate silver vambrace on his arm.

  Narin blinked and looked again at the vambrace. Suddenly the stave felt like lead in his hands. Unable to help himself he glanced up at the constellation directly above.

  ‘Do not worry, the stars still shine without me,’ the Ascendant God standing before him said in a level tone. ‘You have more pressing concerns right now.’

  ‘I … ah … Lord Shield ?’

  The God inclined his head. ‘Investigator.’

  ‘But … why … ?’ Narin stopped and turned back to the unconscious man with dread slithering down his spine. ‘Ah, who is … ? Oh Empress, have mercy !’

  ‘Investigator,’ Shield said sternly, ‘don’t be so foolish. My Brother-under-Knight would be most displeased in his servant.’

  Narin turned cautiously around. The street remained dark and empty. ‘Is … ah, is Lord Lawbringer here too ?’

  ‘No, nor any other. That is a man at your feet, just a man.’ Shield took a step forward, head slightly tilted to one side as though listening to a voice on the wind. ‘You have inconvenienced me, Investigator.’

  ‘What ? Ah, I mean, I’m sorry, Lord Shield.’ Narin gaped for a moment, then checked himself and dropped to one knee. ‘I did not realise.’

  ‘Clearly.’

  Head bowed, Narin waited. The cool night air prickled on his exposed neck and he started to feel terribly vulnerable. Just as he was about to ask what he’d done, Shield made up the ground between them in the blink of an eye. Gasping, Narin fell back, barely keeping a grip on his stave as he scrambled to recover himself.

  ‘That man was a thief, I believe,’ Shield said distantly, eyes fixed on the black-clad goshe.

  Another blurring movement brought him to the man’s side and he knelt, touching one finger to the man’s injured temple and a second over a closed eye. The God bowed his head in concentration and Narin saw pale light glow from his half-shut eyes. It lasted just a few moments then Shield withdrew his hand and straightened, giving Narin an appraising look.

  ‘A thief of what, however, I do not know,’ Shield continued eventually. ‘I had hoped the rat would return to its lair to lick its wounds, but then you got in the way, Investigator.’

  ‘You threw him from the roof ?’ Narin asked in astonishment. It had to be a miracle the man was even alive after such a fall – that he would be able to walk home even less likely.

  Shield tilted his head to look at the damaged roof. ‘He is hardier than he appears,’ the God said by way of reply. ‘Unfortunately, only in body.’

  ‘But he’s alive ; you can still question him when he wakes !’

  Lord Shield gave him a look that froze him to the spot. ‘Your intervention has precluded that.’

  ‘You can’t heal his injuries ?’

  The God turned to the goshe. He reached out again and brushed his fingers over the man’s head injury, then tapped twice against his chest. ‘Some. Not everything can be undone.’

  He stood and gazed down at Narin, who had recovered himself and knelt again. Shield’s stare was unblinking. Narin flinched under the intense scrutiny, though there was no anger in that look. If the God felt any emotion, he betrayed nothing.

  ‘This is a problem for you, Investigator,’ Shield added gravely.

  Narin’s guts went cold. ‘My … my apologies, Lord Shield, I thought he was spying on me.’

  ‘Why would he spy on you ?’

  ‘I, ah, I do not know.’

  A massive hand reached down and took hold of Narin’s tunic. Shield lifted him to his feet with no appreciable effort, his expression grave. ‘I choose to forget you lied to me there. Try again.’

  Narin gaped – his mind blank until a tiny light flickered in the recesses of Shield’s eyes and startled him into life again. ‘I’m sorry, Lord – I meant only to protect another.’

  ‘I can keep a secret, unless you think to protect them from me ?’

  ‘No ! No, of course not. I was meeting someone ; she ah, she gave me some news.’

  Shield bared his teeth in what Narin hoped was a grin. ‘Husband found out ?’

  The Investigator’s heart gave a lurch. For the hundredth time he wanted to rap his knuckles against his forehead.

  What sort of a fool falls in love with a noblewoman ? A married noblewoman ? A married noblewoman of House Wyvern, second only to its cousin House Dragon in its obsession with honour ?

  ‘Close enough. How did you … ?’ he asked weakly.

  ‘I still remember mortal life.’

  Narin lowered his eyes. Lord Shield, carried dying into the heavens by his lord, the Ascendant God Knight, to serve him there as he had in life.

  ‘Of course, I’m sorry. Ah, why have I inconvenienced you, Lord Shield ? Surely he will wake still ?’

  ‘He will wake.’

  ‘Can’t you interrogate him then ? He won’t be able to lie to you either.’

  Again the distant light flashed, white-green in the blackness of the Ascendant God’s pupils, and Narin felt it like tiny claws brushing his mind. He winced at the sensation and Shield released him. Narin sagged with relief and staggered back a step before catching his balance.

  ‘It would be of no use,’ Shield said slowly. ‘Tell me, Investigator, your oaths – you have a duty to any you harm or place in danger, no ?’

  Narin’s mouth fell open as the memory of his father’s stitched wall-hanging appeared in his memory. The words were etched into his heart ; the first he’d learned to read, long before Narin could fully understand what they stood for.

  ‘I – yes.’

  ‘Then you bear a duty to this man and a debt to me for your interference.’ Shield gestured to the goshe on the ground. ‘You will make amends.’

  ‘How ?’ Narin asked in a hoarse whisper.

  ‘You will investigate,’ Shield said simply. ‘This man carries secrets with him, secrets he cannot now tell. You will find them out or you will die in the attempt, do you understand me ?’

  Narin found himself unable to speak. Only a tiny wheeze escaped his throat. The moments ticked by, the crisp salty air caressed his cheek and still he did not reply. With an effort he managed to nod, realising his hands were shaking as he did so.

  ‘Good. Once you know this man’s secrets, you will answer me this – who is the moon ?’

  Narin blinked. ‘Who … ?’

  The words died in his throat as Shield vanished from sight. Narin reeled as though struck around the head, black stars bursting before his eyes. The nig
ht seemed to have twisted and snapped like a hungry creature, enveloping the Ascendant God and leaving no sign he had even been there before.

  A voice echoed down the empty street. He didn’t hear the words, but it stirred him into action all the same. An Investigator of the Imperial House he might be, but Narin still didn’t want to have to answer any questions about why he was out here all alone with an injured goshe.

  ‘Who is the moon ? What in Lady Pity’s name does that mean ?’ Narin muttered in disbelief. ‘What have I got myself into ?’

  He looked around at the dark, still streets. The faint scent of wood smoke mingled with the ever-present salty tang of the sea. The breeze was light, brushing unhurried across his cheek. He stared at the empty cobbled ground where Lord Shield had stood and tried to work out what had happened. Foreboding was a cold weight in his gut, despite the mild night air.

  The city seemed to stop around him, silent and harmonious while he alone struggled. For a man used to solitude, Narin suddenly felt more alone than ever before. The weight of all he’d learned tonight pressed down as though the light of the stars themselves had him snared in a web. Narin bowed his head and closed his eyes briefly. Kine’s smiling face came easily into his mind ; her dark skin fading into the shadows, her beauty like a fire’s warmth against his skin.

  He opened his eyes and looked down at the unconscious man. The goshe was dark-haired and tanned of skin, with scars on his face and faint stubble on his cheeks. What House he belonged to, Narin couldn’t tell. The Imperial City included districts ruled by each of the ten Great Houses – once just extended noble families, now synonymous with the nations they ruled. Public thoroughfares under the rule of the Lawbringers cut through each district, but beyond those the Emperor’s law was always in competition with the Great House who claimed sovereignty there.

  ‘You’re obviously not House Dragon or any House under it,’ Narin said to the goshe, ‘but looking at you I can’t fit your heritage to any House I know.’

  The Imperial City had spent five hundred years under the stewardship of House Dragon, a hegemony that ruled its own nation and those of the lesser Houses under it. Thickset, black-skinned Dragons were a common sight on these streets, as were their lesser cousins, House Wyvern, to which Kine belonged. The other states within Dragon’s domain maintained less of a presence in the Imperial City, but Narin had seen enough of each to at least know a Darkcloud citizen from a Smoke. Beyond that, there were so many shades and tints of skin and eyes in the city that most were as impossible to discern as the dark Dragons or near-albino Leviathans were obvious.

  ‘So what do I do now ?’ he asked the man at his feet. Narin shook his head in disbelief and almost smiled. ‘I’ve no idea – what would Lawbringer Rhe do ? What would Enchei do ?’

  That last thought seemed to trigger something inside him and he stirred into action. ‘Enchei’d just deal with it as though nothing strange had happened,’ he said with a sigh as he knelt and hauled the goshe into a seating position.

  ‘Come to think of it, this is all the old man’s fault anyway.’ He ducked his head under the goshe’s arm and manoeuvred him until he was draped over his back.

  ‘All Enchei’s fault,’ Narin repeated as he tried to stand. ‘Stars in heaven you’re heavy !’ he gasped, wavering and almost dropping back down to the ground.

  The goshe was a dead weight on his shoulders, all hard muscle and bone. Crab-like, Narin hauled the man over to the window sill and grabbed hold of it to drag himself up. For a moment his knees wavered before he at last straightened them with a gasp.

  ‘Damn you, Enchei,’ he continued through gritted teeth. ‘If I’d never met you I’d not be in love with another man’s wife. Not be dragging this Gods-cursed lump home for reasons that’ll probably get me killed – if my friend doesn’t find out about me and his wife first.’

  The layout of the city unfolded in his mind, a broken wheel of streets and districts that followed the curve of the Crescent River around the Imperial Island. Narin’s home was on the near-side of the island, between the Tier Bridge and the vast Imperial Palace, but he would have to cross a lot of ground to get there.

  ‘The Harbour Warrant,’ Narin said to the weight on his shoulder, ‘That’s just a few streets away. I’ll take you there and find a patrol to help me. Lord Shield, if you’re looking down, steer me clear of House Dragon’s soldiers or I’ll never get him out.’

  He started off across the street, staggering to the nearest alley to be swallowed up by the shadows there. Something pattered down onto his feet as he went. He looked down and saw the sparkle of glass fragments glint in the starlight.

  ‘Who is the moon ?’ he repeated under his breath. ‘What sort of a question is that ?’

  Under the glare of Shield’s starlight he didn’t dare voice his thoughts entirely out loud. The God might still be watching him, might even be listening to anything he said.

  The High Gods and their Ascendants had not figured largely in Narin’s life. There were traditions and rituals he knew as well as most in the Empire of a Hundred Houses, but the Lawbringers were the religion his father had taught him ; the ideals they stood for and the order they had brought.

  ‘When has the moon been anyone ?’ he wondered as he turned a corner and shifted the goshe to a more comfortable position. ‘The moon’s a lump in the sky where no God lives, and a Great House far to the west. Moon’s water is a drink I could do with a few of right now, but it’s no man or woman I ever heard of.’

  The night seemed to grow colder, his breath casting clouds of vapour before him as the effort of carrying the man increased with every step.

  ‘I’m dead then,’ Narin muttered miserably. ‘Dead and buried one way or the other.’

  Scowling, he shook his head and plodded on, trying to focus on his anger rather than the strain on his back.

  ‘I’ll be dead,’ he continued to the uncaring night, ‘and Enchei won’t have a friend in the world again. That might shut the bastard up for a while at least. Should’ve thought of it sooner really.’

  Chapter 2

  In his dreams Narin walks home through the streets of the Cas Tere Warrant alongside a man he hardly knows. A tattooist of the Imperial House called Enchei Jen, he is a grey-haired man once of House Falcon, foremost of House Eagle’s subordinate nations. Narin has been surprised how quickly he has warmed to the man since they first met, just a few weeks before. Enchei’s ready smile and mocking humour reminds Narin of the bullies he endured during his years in the novice dormitories, but somehow he senses no malice in the man – only a quiet strength and peace Narin instinctively envies.

  His arms ache from the effort of two hours’ hurling a leather ball with all his strength, only to see it batted back or deftly deflected away. They have played dachan once before so Narin is not surprised he has lost to a man two decades his elder. His thigh also hurts ; a straight blow from the fist-sized ball that hadn’t seemed intentional until Enchei had cheered the strike.

  It is late in the evening, but the air is still sticky and warm. The summer afternoon heat is too fierce to play in so they played in the hours before sunset, then ate at a strange back-street eatery serving racks of griddled prawns. Narin carries his dachan stick in hands stained yellow by his food and they talk of inconsequential things, ambling along as men do after a good meal.

  Crossing the Fett Canal into the Tale Warrant, they pause to admire the lanterns strung along the bridges and shopfronts even at that late hour – white, red and purple. The purple lanterns hang outside teahouses where men and women alike sit on the wooden decks and smoke cigars or pipes of balese, while inside the opium users have likely crawled onto a pallet to sleep and dream.

  Tale is quiet this late. The occasional burst of noise comes from a tavern or gaming den, but nothing that Narin feels he should investigate. Moths and tiny flying lizards dance in the bright starlight of the Gods on a cloudless night. The entire Order of Shaman is displayed in all its glory, the stars of
each distinct constellation seeming to cast a purer light than the aged moon.

  They turn a corner and stumble to a halt. There is a body on the floor before them. It takes Narin a moment to fully comprehend the sight after a convivial evening, fatigue and wine both dulling his thoughts. Then the black pool of blood and brutal gash in the dead man’s neck snap into focus – as do the long braids of hair and white embossed holster that marks him as a warrior caste of House Wyvern.

  At last he looks up and sees more dead men, two in labourer’s clothes and three more of the warrior caste. He is astonished by the sight ; the idea that trained warriors could be cut down by so few lower castes surprises him as much as the sight of slaughter.

  The starlight shines down on a strange tableau in the middle of the street. Propped up against a stone water-trough is a nobleman, trousers cut away and lying in tatters around his ankles. Bent over him is a scarred man with a bloodied knife, while around him five others are frozen by the sudden appearance of Narin and Enchei.

  Then the spell is broken and they surge forward together. Narin feels a cold knot of fear in the pit of his stomach, realising his Investigator uniform will serve as no defence here. He hurls his dachan stick over-arm at the nearest, causing the man to throw his arms up to protect his face. It gives Narin just a moment’s respite, but long enough for him to pull his stave from behind his back.

  A darkened blur flashes across his view. His placid companion has not needed to think, has experienced no moment of uncertainty and fear – he has simply acted. He watches Enchei in the staccato movement of dreams, leaping towards the dead House soldier and rolling across the fallen man. Narin doesn’t even see him pull the pistol from its sheath. One moment Enchei is diving, the next he is crouching with one arm extended.