“No, they won’t.” Rali frowned at Sanya like he was just now seeing her for the first time. “We tricked ourselves into thinking she’s more or less powerful because of arbitrary gang rankings, but they’re all Ketsu. Beyond that final level, it’s just politics. Who wants to sit at the top, who doesn’t, who’ll do the work to take the throne, who won’t.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe I let randomly assigned numbers pull the wool over my eyes. You’re just as powerful as Takeshi or any of the others, aren’t you, Sanya-ketsu?”
Her eyes sparkled. “My wise young Selken friend, your understanding of Spirit is wasted on that broken sea.”
“You murdered people who trusted you,” I said.
“Murder is a lucrative business, Death cultivator. What’s your USL account up to now?”
“I’m not doing this for the money.”
“Don’t play the virtuous killer with me,” Sanya said, slipping the artifact back in her pocket. “You might be able to fool your friends, but you can’t fool me. I saw into your soul, Death cultivator, every hope and desire. The reluctant murderer turned avenging angel, taking the burden on himself for the greater good? Not even you believe such a tired act, a little self-torture just makes it easier to sleep at night. You’re a natural-born killer. You love it. All you needed was a push in the right direction.”
My face burned. I could feel Rali staring at me.
“None of it was real, was it.” I wasn’t asking. “It was all a setup to get me to do what you wanted.”
“Tell me, avenging angel, how much do you think it costs to hire a pair of sharks to ugly cry over some fake dead pup?”
I shook my head. Not because I couldn’t believe her, but because I couldn’t believe me. I was such an idiot.
“They held out for more than we had to pay you.” She shrugged. “For Takeshi’s part, he agreed it was well worth the credits to fix two problems at once. The theatrics got you over your ludicrous aversion to killing and you stopped a low-level moron skimming money from the organization.”
“Galston never sold out the artifact team’s locations, did he?”
“Does it matter? You got your rush of self-worth. You sharpened your killing intent and became a weapon instead of a waste of—”
Sanya’s left cheekbone exploded over the top of her surgical mask, spraying blood and teeth and skin.
Kest, Rali, Warcry—everybody looked at me as she fell. They thought I’d killed her. I was the Death cultivator, and I’d been the one arguing with her. It didn’t take a genius to connect the dots.
It was less than a second before the faraway crack of a rifle proved I hadn’t done it, but that was long enough to sear the expressions of fear and doubt on my friends’ faces into my brain forever.
Sanya’s corpse hit the ground in a heap, and suddenly everything lurched into high gear.
“Sniper!” Kest grabbed Rali’s hand and pulled him down in the tall grass. “Everybody down! Get under the rocks!”
I dropped and belly crawled toward boulders, casting a wide net of Dead Reckoning. Besides Rali, Warcry, and Kest’s life points, six brightly colored candles converged on the field.
“It’s the Bailiff,” I said when the four of us were huddled under the edge of the rocks. “He’s got some hooligans I don’t know backing him up. Five of them.”
“Probably his new Jianjiao lads,” Warcry muttered.
Kest scowled. “The Bailiff’s here, too?”
“Not for long.” I turned toward the cluster of approaching life points and sent a wave of Mass Grave careening after them.
Two died immediately. Three more had defenses. Automatically I triggered Moldering Bones, eating through each of them, but not really paying attention as their flickering candles went out.
The Bailiff was the one I wanted, but when I groped for his airy gray life point, it disappeared.
His laugh bounced off the rocks.
“Is that you a-knocking, Smart Boy?” he called. “You’re gonna have to put some more mustard on it if you want to take me down.”
Off in the Technol encampment, the pop of guns and crash of Spirit attacks filled the air. A series of blasts shook the ground, one after another, followed by a series of plinking thuds like hail. Shards of ancient temple rained down around us.
“What are they doing?” Kest craned her neck to see around the bottom of a boulder.
Rali glanced toward Sanya’s body. “Taking out the most powerful cultivator on the planet?”
“I meant the ruins,” Kest snapped. “Why blow the temple up? Aren’t they worried about losing the artifact?”
“Not if they already know who has the bracelet,” I said. “The dancer could’ve told them right after we left.”
“Probably bought her way straight back into the Jianjiao’s good graces,” Warcry growled.
Out in the field, the Bailiff tipped back his bowler hat and whistled at Sanya’s corpse.
“The great equalizer! All y’all Ketsus talk tough, but blow the back of your head off and you ain’t any better’n us low-level jacks and jennies.” He crouched beside the body and started rifling through her suit pockets. “Let’s see what you brought me, oh mighty Ketsu.”
“We can’t let the Bailiff get his webbed fingers on that bracelet,” I said. If the Heartblood Crown accepted him as its master, he would be invincible. He could do anything to Kest or Rali or Warcry, and nothing I could do would be able to stop him.
“You guys can’t just run out there,” Kest said. “He’s got a sniper.”
“And probably more backup on the way.” I checked Dead Reckoning again. “He’s alone for now. This is our best chance, before his Jianjiao buddies realize the guys they sent with him are dead and the Technols get the situation in camp under control and start sweeping out here.”
“Then let’s not waste it, yeah?” Warcry gave a short nod. “You hit the cove where it hurts and get that artifact; I’ll keep the Martial Devil off your back.”
We triggered our Ki-speed enhancements and hit our feet at the same time.
Kest’s cinnabar
