Fox’s Tongue and Kirin’s Bone

Chapter 42: Dead Men

So he had a father after all; so what. Most people did. So his father had killed a king. No surprise there, either. So had Aaron.

I dont listen to dead men.

The old ways were as he remembered them: cool and dark. The handprints on the opposite wall were the same rusted red-brown, overlapping in location but missing each other entirely through the years. Aaron took out his dagger and ran the blade down his palm, the bite dull and distant. He left his print below Roses. The closing door silenced the banshees keening. He was alone in the dark.

* * *

The man had blond hair. Blond like wheat ready for harvest, like the autumn sun itself. Blond like an enclave man far from home. In the field of reds and browns that filled the capital, he stood out every bit as much as a boy with black hair and a southerners look. Aaron had always wondered if that was why the man had kept him: so they could stand out together.

Hed taken Aaron into the upper town, once. A friendly trip. Aaron had been about seven. Theyd seen a murder trial in His Majestys own palace, trading elbows in each others ribs at the especially solemn parts. Afterward hed taken Aaron to the execution, but theyd spent most of their time wandering between shop fronts. Justice made for a fine spectacle, but a dead man could hardly be expected to hold their attention.

The mans hair shone in the afternoon light. Aaron had followed him, like the shadow he cast.

* * *

A light. Aaron wanted a light: a torch, a candle, a lantern. The old ways were pitch black, and his heart loud in his chest.

He was in no danger of getting lost. Hed been raised in Twokinskeeping a sense of direction, a sense of elevation, was a basic survival skill. The Faces who didnt have it didnt last, simple as that.

He didnt want a light because he was afraid of getting lost. He wasnt afraid of running across the duke in the darkness, or of missing Rose. Their breathing, the scuffs of their shoes against the floorhe would know them before they knew him.

The stone was dry and dusty under his feet. Cold. Hed left his boots back inside the room; there was a familiarity to feeling ground he couldnt see.

Probably Rose was navigating in the dark, as well. The ways ran straight enough, and hed never known her to carry a light. Maybe when she was exploring new passages, but with the banshees howling, and her ducking in quick? No, he didnt think shed have light with her.

The duke, by contrast, likely did; there had been ample lamps in the kings apartments, and nothing to stop him grabbing one. That would be to Aarons advantageall the easier to find his father in the darkness.

Aaron wanted a light because he wanted a light; there was nothing more to it than simple weakness. He did not go back for one.

He didnt need a light.

* * *

You dont need a light.

Aaron couldnt remember exactly what hed said back. Something small and frightened. It was a pathetic, cringing sort of memory. The kind that clings to the mind like an oily film on water. Why was it that happy things and boring everyday things could sink so easily, when memories like this always stayed to poison the surface?

You dont need a light. Rats live down here, and they dont need lights. Bats dont need lights. If youre scared, get yourself doppeled like a proper Twokin, and have done. How old are you? Nine already?

I dont want to be doppeled. I wantIm going to leave this place. And if you try to follow me, Ill tell everyone up there what you are. Theyll kill you. Hang you or skin you or

It had been something like that, anyway. He hadnt been a very smart child. When his ears had stopped ringing, hed been looking up from the ground. The mans hair was white light and black shadow as he stood over Aaron, the torch guttering towards its death.

You dont need a light, the man said, and he ground the flame out against the stone. And this is the last Ill carry one for you.

* * *

The way down to the lower exits was through the same long hall as the roofs stairway. He remembered from his visit with Rose; remembered with the accuracy of someone used to seeing a place once, and keeping it remembered thereafter. He felt the stair before he saw it. A slight tug to the air, a current of cold seeking its way downward. He trailed fingertips along the wall out of habit, not necessity.

It felt different than he was used tosmaller cut, cleaner finish. Not like the rat tunnels that made up the deep Downs. He could tell at a touch that no one had been trying to kill the people whod made this. Not while they were making it. Luxury was cut stone, and all it implied.

* * *

Why even bother? Aaron had asked, running his hand over the smooth stone. Even the ground had been leveled. Swept clean, too, so that his feet were getting the floor dirty rather than the other way around. And yet, more people wore shoes up here than in Seventh Down. He didnt understand it.

Because cave walls arent good enough for the upper Lords, the man had answered. He leaned against the blacksmiths anvil, his arms crossed over his chest.

Lords live down here? Aaron stood out of reach, a few feet away. He wiped a hand over his forehead, clearing beads of sweat from his brow. The furnace was at their backs, and roaring. Its owner had only stepped out for a short while. Hed never known there was such a thing as being too warm. It was hard to remember, in Twokins, that the world did not always remain the same chill temperature.

They used to. Back before the dragons accepted the pact.

Did the king live down here? The upper king, I mean.

Oh, aye. Thats his old castle youve seen, built right into the heart.

Can we live there?

Why dont you try it. See how that goes for you. This was one of the mans favorite sayings. Generally, the implication was obvious. If you come back alive, turns out your parents wereah, here we are.

The woman pulled up short, her hand tightening around the knob of the half-opened door. Her surprise lasted only a moment. Then a fire came to her eyes, a match for the furnace behind them. She stepped inside, her back straight, her shoulders squared, her voice smoldering.

Our business is done, she said. Ill not sell to you again. Get out.

Now see, Id be fine to leave things there, the man said. But as I hear it told, youre not selling to anyone Kindly, yet your furnace He glanced casually over his shoulder. Well, its still burning.

Out, she repeated, a hand clenched around the dagger at her side.

The man shrugged. He pushed off from the anvil, casually reaching his arms over his head in a dramatic stretchhis hands were well clear of his weapons as he brushed past her, her eyes trailing him all the while. At the doorway he turned, one eyebrow raised. Its a nice blade you have there. Made it yourself, did you?

Out, she replied, through gritted teeth.

Aaron did his best to stay small and still. He was waiting for the mans order to follow; he wasnt allowed to leave that spot until it came.

Aaron, the man said, I like that dagger. Bring it back with you. He gave a little wave as he shut the door. I wont wait up.

She spared Aaron a glance, but otherwise wasted no time in throwing the locks on the smithys heavy door. Aaron stood where hed been left, his throat dry. After a few tries at swallowing, he managed to find his voice.

Maam? Could I please have your dagger?

The look she leveled on him was not unkind. He called you Aaron?

Yes, maam. There was just enough space between two of the racks for him to fit, if he kept his shoulders tucked in. He stood very still as she approached. The stone was cold on his back, the furnace hot on his face.

How old are you, Aaron? Nine? Ten?

Twelve, maam. I think. Please, maam. I cant go back without it.

Then dont go back. Slowly, she reached a hand out towards him, like she was reaching out to touch a fawn. Her fingers brushed a black strand out of his face.

I have to.

No. You dont.

Saying a thing didnt make it true. He took in a shaky breath. He wants for me to kill you. Thats what he really meant.

Im not going to hurt you. Not all the worlds like Twokins, Aaron. Youre still human, arent you? The castles got amnesty for Faces. You know what that means? Amnesty?

Amnesty meant people ran away and got themselves netted by redcoats, and no one saw them again. Or they didnt make it that far, and everyone got to see what came to them. It was one of the words he hateda word with the lie built right in.

It was her knife hand she was using to brush his hair. The blade itself hung from a braided belt on her waist, unguarded.

Aaron caught up to the man on the border with Fourth Down, where the leveled floor and the smooth stone walls gave way to rough-hacked stone. There were still lanterns set in the walls here, carefully maintained by the kings own men for the benefit of his citizens; just a few steps farther, and the darkness of Twokins began.

I got it, he said, holding the dagger out. The man didnt even glance down.

Is she dead?

Aaron kept silent.

Did you understand I wanted her dead?

There was nothing much to say to that, either.

Youre never fool enough to lie to me, Aaron. I like that. But make no mistake: were going to get you blooded. Their blood or yours; its your choice.

The hand he set in Aarons hair was warm, and almost gentle. It was a hand with lies built in. Mutely, Aaron offered up the blade again.

Keep it, the man said. Its better than yours.

Aaron didnt want to, but he did. As they crossed into Fourth Down, the mans bright hair looked like light extinguishing.

* * *

The change in gradient was subtle, but obvious to eyes that were accustomed to complete darkness. Total dark had an almost palpable quality: it was a thing that wrapped around the eyes, so that they were always looking but never seeing. A persons vision would never adjust, no matter how many years were spent in it. But add in just a hint of light, from around a corner, from down the length of a passagewayand suddenly, there was gray mixed in with the black. A little more, and the difference between a wall and a door became clear. Come to the edge of that doorway, and each stone began to stand out again as its own thing, separate from the rest. Aaron pressed his back to the wall, gripped the hilt of his dagger in his hand, and inched forward.

* * *

Their main home was below Seventh Down, marked by nothing but a series of cracks tucked in between larger caves. Nothing special to look at, and worse to enter. To someone who didnt know the way, they were a panicky affairthey pressed down and down, narrower and narrower, so that a man had to turn on his side and hold his breath just to get through. In some places, he had to crawl on hands and knees, and finally belly. If he carried a sword, he could not wield it; if he carried a dagger, he might just manage. If he were in plate armor well, good luck fitting through without taking off a vital piece or two. These tunnels were for rats, not rat catchers.

To anyone who knew what waited up ahead, that squeeze was the last press to safety. The final few feet to home.

The cavern opened up suddenly and spectacularly. Even with the brightest lantern, there was no seeing the other side, or the ceiling above. The underground river rumbled over their roof, a constant growl of warning that lulled them to sleep at night. To the west the great waterfall split around the castle and crashed down to depths best left alone. Their own deep basin flowed languidly to join it, undisturbed by all except the occasional drips from hidden stalactites, and the rare curve of a ribbed fin cutting the surface.

From a distance, their home looked like stars in the night sky: pinpricks of light hanging in the darkness, lanterns and cook fires clinging to the unseen far wall. It wasnt just the Kindly Souls home, of course. For all their influence, they were a small group, and this was a bigger place than that. But there was no doubt as to who was the brightest star.

Why are they putting the lights out? the boy said, holding tight to his brothers arm. I thought we were safe here. I thought the royal guard never made it this far.

He was nine, maybe ten. Aaron could remember that age, if he tried. He didnt usually want to. Its just to be safe. Were going to block the tunnels after you lot are in, but we cant risk some rat catcher spotting light through a chink in the wall, and getting the bright idea to start digging.

And what if one of them slips in before the hunt, playing at being a refugee? one of the older boys with him asked, casting a hard look around. Youre not exactly discriminating in who you take in.

Aaron cast a glance back over his shoulder, and found green eyes meeting his gray. Your name?

Kieran, he answered. Thats Pieran. This is Cormac. He nodded to a young man who may as well have been his doppel, and to the younger boy who still clung uncertainly to his arm. Kieran and Pieran were older than Aarons fourteen, but not by many years; they were eighteen, or perhaps nineteen.

I think weve got some of you lot down here already. Rafferty, right? Aaron asked. The older boy shrugged a confirmation. Big family. Is it true that you were merchants? Whats that like?

Is it true that youre his pet? the young man retorted. Whats that like?

Kieran, the other one snapped. Please excuse my brother, Aaron. Its a sore subject.

Aaron nodded stiffly. He hadnt given them his name. Apparently, theyd done a bit of asking around before deciding to shelter here.

They were treading, carefully, along the ledge that wound around the caverns side. Most of it was natural. Here and there were signs of men: rocks that had been wedged in to fill a small gap in the trail, boards that had been laid to cross a larger one. With the small lantern Aaron carried, he hardly even needed to pay attention to where he stepped. The brothers moved much more cautiously, keeping their younger brother to the inside of the path. They came upon a rope ladder; Aaron gestured for them to go ahead of him, as he scanned their back trail. At the top, other Kindly Souls waited to help them get their footing. It was not the flattest of landings, and could be a bit disorienting to someone who stood up unprepared.

Still, the more tactful of the elder brothers said, as Aaron joined them at the top, Its a good question. How do you stop the royal guard from simply walking into this place?

Weve a saying, Aaron said. Theres two ways into Twokins.

You can be born here, or you can be made a doppel, Pieran dutifully quoted.

You werent born here, Aaron prompted, making no move to lead them on. The other Kindly Souls waited with him, at ease in the near darkness, their stances so casual it was easy to miss how completely theyd ringed in the newcomers. Except for the side with the fall; they were welcome to that, if they wanted it.

It took Pieran only a moment to get it. Oh, he said. So here? Right here?

If you please.

Cormac cant keep his clothes yet, Kieran said, his hands tightening over the younger boys shoulders.

Then hell have to put them on again when hes done. If they were looking for a safe place, they were in it. If they were looking for sympathy, theyd soon learn that the two didnt often live side by side below Third Down.

The three brothers exchanged glances.

This is why you only take us in small groups, isnt it? Pieran asked. Aaron and the others simply waited. Another glance. Then the younger boy squirmed free of his elder brothers grip, and took a step forward.

I think Ive got this, he said, with a frown of utmost concentration. Several moments passed. Then, with a suddenness that always sent a jolt through Aaron, the boy ceased to exist. In a slow poof, his clothes settled on the dusty floor. Something squirmed inside of them: a nose appeared first, then whiskers popped free, then a little black head. A young rat crawled out of the neck of the boys shirt, and looked up towards its brothers expectantly.

Im beginning to see a family resemblance, one of the other Kindly Souls remarked.

The elder brothers again looked at each other.

What would happen if one of us were not a doppel? Pieran asked.

Why dont you try it, Aaron suggested. See how that goes for you.

Kieran was the first to change. A moment behind him, Pieran did as well. He was a gray rat with a white star on his forehead. As was his brother, down to the last stroke of fur.

Close enough to be doppels, indeed.

Aaron hesitated. If I may ask which of you is the real one?

One of the rats sat back on its hunches. Its eyes were small and black and far too human. Do you know what you mean by that?

No. Under the quiet stare from those eyes, he suddenly didnt.

Ask again when you do.

The star-marked rats changed back to their human forms. They were new doppels, the entire family of themtheyd only a handful of darker hairs between them when they were human, mixed in with their fiery red. The Rafferty clan. Theyd been armored merchants. One of their kinsman sat the Wasting Kings council, just as one had sat the Steadfast Kings, and the Regent Queens before that. Thered been talk that a new line of blood nobles was about to be born.

Someone must have taken offense to that, given how literally theyd been ratted out.

Kieran scooped up their younger brother in his palms. Pieran gathered up the boys clothes, flashing a tight smile.

Aaron led them into his home.

* * *

Niall Sung carried a lantern in one hand. It was an ornate thing, and no doubt heavy. Wrought in steel, with gold dragons inlaid on its sides, it was meant to be a table centerpiece. It had never been intended for carrying. But then, Aaron couldnt remember any in the kings rooms that had been: most were bolted straight to the walls. How silly of the mandidnt he remember to bring his own light to the murder? Really, the things some people overlooked.

Aarons foot scuffed along the floor more loudly than hed intended. Either that, or hed wanted to be noticed. He wasnt sure himself. The result was the same: the duke spun to face him, drawing his sword on the instant and raising that ridiculous lantern higher as if it would make the light carry farther.

Aaron stepped fully into the passageway. Good evening, father. Youre looking better than some.

Markus, the man scowled.

Aaron didnt correct him. There was no need to complicate things. The duke knew his son had come for him, and why. Which son was trivial at this point.

* * *

Aaron didnt need to stop and soliloquy about his reasons; he didnt need to hold off the final blow until comprehension dawned on the mans face. Justification was something tight and coiled that crouched ready in a shut-in corner of the mind, not something that needed to be said. Ever.

The man was dead. He had died without any final words: no threats, no pleading, no half-choked why? He had not seen it coming; had not felt betrayed. Hed taught Aaron better than that. Kindly Souls did what needed doing, and that was the end.

His golden hair was strangely soft under Aarons hand, like he was still alive. How long was it before a corpses hair lost that feel? Aaron cleaned his blade off, and cinched his belt around his waist. Slipped back on his shirt. Buttoned up his coat. He took a deep breath, and let it out. When he left the room, he did so ready.

Hes dead. Aaron told the guard outside. The man sat on an outcropping of stone, placing down faded old cards in a game made for one. He looked up when Aaron spoke, and there was never any doubt between them: this was no joke.

Must you always pick my shift? the man asked. They both knew the answer to that. Feel better?

A little numb, actually. Aaron sat down on the cavern floor. He hadnt really planned to. He just did. He drew in his knees, folded his arms on top of them, and waited for the world to feel different.

The guard played another card from his deck. Apparently that let him move around a few stacks, and shuffle some things. Aaron knew the rules of the game; this was the man whod taught him, in fact. He just couldnt remember them, at the moment.

Youre running, arent you, the guard said. Aaron nodded. The man played another card. Theres another way. You just assassinated an assassin king, Aaron. That gives you a right. Theres certain of us that wouldnt mind you claiming it.

The Raffertys are coming.

The mans hand stilled. Tonight?

Aaron nodded. The guard tossed down the rest of the deck. With sweeps of his large hands, he gathered them back up. Their box was wood: a dark, rich wood inlaid with white bone. His coats always had a hidden pocket just to fit that box.

Where will you go?

Aaron didnt answer. Didnt have an answer to give. It would go best if everyone surrendered. Just swear to them.

Why did you do it? he asked. If you didnt want then why?

The crouching, caged thing in the back of his head let him say just one thing. He didnt need to justify himself. He didnt. But he could.

I dont listen to dead men.

* * *

Aaron drew his blade while the duke was still speaking.

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