She frowned like the same thing had just occurred to her.
“We’re twins, so it’s a rational conclusion that we would have similar advancements,” she said. “I can go Hot Metal or Cold Metal. Rali got to choose between Warm and Cold Heart. We’re more alike than people think.”
I nodded, but I was thinking that was probably the least logical thing I’d ever heard her say. I’d never had a brother before, though. Maybe sibling rivalry clouded your judgment.
“Maybe I haven’t advanced because I don’t know which way I’d pick.” She weighed her options for a few seconds. “Probably Hot Metal. That’s most useful for welding and other artificer tasks.”
I wondered what Hot Death and Cold Death would be like. Maybe those weren’t options at all. Warcry had said he’d gotten to pick between Frozen and Burning Hatred. If Sanya-ketsu and the Emperor’s Spirit specializations were any indication, the paths they hadn’t chosen must’ve been something like Harvested Dreams and Flexible Justice.
Kest sighed, looking up at the tree’s branches. Dark sky was peeking through the leaves in a few places.
“I wish we could stay out here forever,” she said.
Here came the axe.
“But,” I said, trying to sound like it wasn’t a big deal.
“Yeah. But.” She stood up and dusted her jeans off. “I’ve got to get Rali out the door so we can meet Naph.”
I stood up and caught her hand. “Hey, real quick before we go back.”
Saying goodbye took a little longer than I thought, but being late was worth it.
When we made it back to the pagoda, Warcry was in the kitchen, and Rali was in the sunken living room with one of the Soulchamber servants. The servant was sitting on a cushion, looking like he wanted to flee for his life.
Unfortunately for him, a big Selken guy was blocking his way.
Rali held out the fruit basket. “We’ve also got a selection of teas and milks cooling in the ice box, esteemed servant. Might I bring you a drink? It would be my honor to serve you.”
“N-n-no, I really must insist... Death cultivator!” The servant sounded relieved to see me. He jumped up and bowed deeply.
“Hake, meet our esteemed guest,” Rali said. The heavyset Selken was holding it together pretty well, but his eyes were sparkling like he was about to bust up laughing. “How are you with foot rubs? I think the honorable servant could use one. He’s been on his feet all day.”
The servant stared at Rali like he was out of his mind.
I snorted. “Kest, get your brother. He’s freaking out the people who have to work here.”
“Come on, dork,” Kest told her twin. “It’s time to go. Naph’s going to be here soon.”
Rali heaved a big sigh and set the fruit basket down.
“Well, it was a pleasure serving you while it lasted,” he said, bowing deeply to the servant. Then he turned to Warcry. “Burning Hatred cultivator.”
Warcry hopped down into the sunken living room, keeping most of his weight off his prosthetic.
“Don’t go weepy on me, big man.” He kicked back on a cushion and jerked his chin at Kest. “Take care of him, Stumpy.”
“Take care of that prosthetic I built you,” she said. “It can take a beating, but there’s no point putting extra stress on it. That much cinnabar is worth more than your life.”
Kest turned to me, her eye lace shifting subtly. I squeezed her hand. She gave me one of those secretive smiles and squeezed back.
Rali broke the spell by slapping me on the back as he walked past.
“See you, Hake,” he said, grabbing his walking stick from beside the door. “Oh, and I believe the esteemed servant was sent here for you.”
“Yes, in fact.” The servant bowed to me again, this time a little shallower, like he was getting impatient. “The Emperor has summoned you, Death cultivator.”
Kest shot me a look that said text me later if something big is going on. I nodded, and she followed her brother out into the night.
“Lead away,” I told the servant.
The twins had already reached the gate when we got outside, but they were busy talking to the hooligans there, so they didn’t see us heading up the opposite path toward the mansion.
I wanted to ask the servant what this was all about, but the guy was ruffled enough from Rali’s joke, so I kept my mouth shut.
Only one thing Emperor could wish to speak to Death cultivator about, Hungry Ghost whispered.
The Sentenced to Death crosshairs flashed through my head, and my guts twisted uneasily.
The servant led me to the same study where we’d met with the Emperor earlier. Like before, the Spirit stone sucked away everything in my rivers and sea as I walked through.
The Emperor sat with his shiny shoes kicked up onto the desktop and his scaly fingers steepled over his huge chest.
A different suit-level gangster was there this time, probably another double-0 rank like Sanya, standing guard over a kneeling prisoner.
The bottom dropped out of my stomach when I saw who it was.
The blue guy from the ramen shack knelt in the middle of the floor, gagged and with his hands tied behind his back. The bright red crosshairs of the Sentence glowed over his face.
“Death cultivator,” the Emperor rumbled. “You are recognizing this scum?”
I swallowed and nodded.
“Is good you do not lie,” he said. His chair creaked as he swung his legs off the desk and stood up. “Continue to tell truth, and Takeshi will not Sentence you. Now. This scum is not dead. Why?”
“H-he wasn’t doing anything wrong.” The words came out paper-thin as if even my voice didn’t want to back me up on this one, but the Emperor didn’t have any trouble hearing me.
“Nothing wrong?” Takeshi pointed a clawed finger at the blue guy. “This scum of galaxy is Dragon hooligan. Was Dragon hooligan, until Takeshi finds
