Chapter Six: A Veil of Rain
I
Torrential rain pelted the ground, sending up clouds of white mist that spread through an abandoned village where even time seemed to have ground to a halt.
In the cellar of a falling-down chapel in that same village, seated around a timeworn round table, were gathered the members of that unparalleled league of assassins who had since time immemorial plied their trade with darkness as their companion—the Asura.
“...and that is what happened. The Deep Folk girl’s powers are nothing short of extraordinary. A monster like that cannot be killed.”
Krishna Siren was not exaggerating. The fact that she could no longer walk without the aid of a cane was incontrovertible proof of that. No one had a ready response. Only the flames of the candles on the round table flickered—naught else in the room moved.
The sound of the rain is soothing, thought Nefer Quan, who sat diagonally opposite Krishna. He stared absently at the black stain covering the ceiling, listening to the downpour.
It was veteran assassin Palacio Jinn who broke the silence.
“Two were unsuccessful, but it should be no trouble for four. They say that it was four Asura who defeated Garcia, the mightiest of the Deep Folk. Of course, I doubt she is as strong as Garcia, but consider it a gesture of respect for Krishna, who has to live with this dishonor.” His voice dripped with sarcasm and contempt, but when Krishna only laughed quietly, he added, “You find your sorry plight amusing?”
“I do apologize if I gave you the wrong idea. I laughed because you are so wildly off the mark, that is all. Or perhaps age has addled your mind so badly that you did not understand me. People give the name ‘monster’ to that against which human strength cannot prevail. We Asura are no exception. Send two assassins or four, it matters not; you might as well try and put out a wildfire with a glass of water. You never met Garcia, so comparisons only waste our time.”
“You seem to have formed a very high opinion of the Deep Folk girl. But at the end of the day, all that means is that she was stronger than the two of you, doesn’t it?”
Krishna’s lips curved. “If that’s what you think, then why are we still talking? Go kill her yourself.”
“Bold words from a woman more dead than alive. How about I perform last rites for you before I move on to the Deep Folk girl?”
“Old Palacio! You, kill me? I wonder if you have it in you...”
Faced with relentless provocation from Krishna, Palacio’s unmasked fury threatened to boil over.
“May I speak?” Just when it seemed the pair would come to blows, a cheerful voice cut between them. It came from a young man whose black mask bore a white snake motif. His name was Kamuy Troa, the youngest of the Asura, who had a well-established reputation for totally refusing to read the room.
“The plan itself wasn’t sloppy, was it?” he inquired.
Krishna fixed him with a cold-eyed stare. “Would you still be saying that if I told you it was Mirage who planned the whole thing, boy?”
“I mean, you botched the kill, didn’t you? You and Mirage are both so weak. Just like my master.” Kamuy, who had been Safiss’s apprentice, doubled over, hooting with laughter.
Unlike the master, the apprentice is a nightmare, Krishna thought. He’s well and truly cracked.
Weak or not, everyone knew that Mirage had possessed an uncannily tactical mind. Not only that, but he had been religiously cautious. He would not have been sloppy when facing one of the Deep Folk—the fact that he had lost anyway only served to underscore the truth of what Krishna had said.
“Oh, that’s right. The monster told me this: the next time an Asura attacks her, she’ll kill them on the spot. And just so you know, I’m not going near her ever again. I am out, and not a moment too soon.”
“I have been listening for a while now,” a new voice chimed, “and I must say, you are very yappy after getting beaten like a dog. I never heard of an Asura who feared death.”
Rosalina Bastche sounded incredulous from behind the four-clawed scorpion that adorned her black mask. Krishna met her eyes steadily.
“I am not afraid of death. What chills my blood is the thought of that monster smiling as she plays with me, like a cat with a mouse.”
“It amounts to the same thing, doesn’t it?” Rosalina scoffed, but she looked away from Krishna.
“In any event,” Krishna went on, “after the state she left me in, I couldn’t care less about our mission. I have informed and warned you of the danger. If any of you still want to carry out your noble calling, far be it from me to stop you. She’s all yours.”
For a moment, the cellar went still. Then, one by one, the room filled with voices railing against Krishna.
The candles were half burned down. The elder, whose gaze had been cast down since the start of the council, opened his eyes.
“Together as one, we shall wipe the Deep Folk girl off the face of the earth. After all that has passed, and what Krishna has told us, I believe she warrants it.”
“May I take that to mean that you will join us, Elder?” Nefer asked immediately.
“Naturally.” The elder’s commanding nod was met with a succession of spirited voices.
“With the elder at our side, we have nothing to fear!”
“Let us bring death to the Deep Folk girl, for the honor of the Asura!”
The elder attended to them without a word before finally turning his scintillating gaze on Nefer.
“You are not pleased, Nefer?”
“How could I not be pleased with your decision? It’s only that the situation has become, well, complicated.”
“In what way?”
Nefer had an underling he had raised from infancy who was undercover in the Azure Knights. He now revealed to the others one part of the report this underling had sent him. The reaction was more or less as he had expected.
“Felix fought the Deep Folk girl?!”
“For all his disapproval of us, it seems the noble Asura blood runs true in him after all,” said Schew Heinz, folding his arms and nodding with a knowing expression. It was the blind Asura’s first contribution to the council. He was a man of few words, and inscrutable at the best of times.
“Why the hell didn’t you raise this first?!” Palacio demanded loudly.
“Everything in its proper order,” said Nefer with a glance at Krishna, whose eyes had gone wide.
“And who won?” The elder’s voice was calm. Nefer answered that the battle had ended in a draw. It was as though he had dropped a boulder into a pond. Everyone began to talk over each other in a state of agitation. Only the elder remained perfectly still.
“There is no such thing as an absolute victory, any more than an absolute defeat. But a draw with Felix—now that is absolutely impossible.” He spoke, it could be inferred, from a deep understanding of Felix’s nature. Felix was known for his gentle manner, but he gave no quarter in battle.
“Strictly speaking, the battle was interrupted before a victor could emerge...” Nefer paused to cast a sweeping look around the others seated at the round table, then said, “By an undead army in thrall to Darmés Guski, the newly crowned emperor of Asvelt.”
“Darmés Guski? Isn’t he the empire’s chancellor? You’re saying he’s emperor now?”
“An army of the dead? Is that some kind of figure of speech?”
Reactions were varied, but they all clearly showed the same confusion. Nefer had felt the same way when he’d first read the report, but he trusted the underling who had sent it, and it did not take him long to accept it as fact. He now laid out in full the parts of the report he had deliberately withheld, concluding with Felix’s decision to join forces with the Deep Folk girl.
“If Darmés can puppet corpses, is he a mage?” Kamuy asked, giving voice to the obvious question.
Palacio banged his fist down on the round table. “Who gives a damn about that now? Felix has betrayed us and allied himself with the Deep Folk! This must not be allowed to stand!”
“From what I hear, the alliance is a temporary one to deal with the corpses. Under the circumstances, it cannot categorically be called a betrayal.”
“You defend him, Nefer?!”
Nefer let Palacio’s fury wash over him, then said, “I do no such thing.”
“No matter how temporary the circumstances, an alliance between Asura and Deep Folk is not to be borne. The elder has always defended Felix at every turn, but after this, the boy must be purged!”
“If nothing else, no one’s going to accept him as the elder now, are they?”
“Personally, I don’t care who the elder is so long as they’re stronger than me.”
There was a pause, then Palacio cried, “Elder!”
All eyes were drawn to the elder, who held the right to the final decision. He stroked his luxurious white beard, then at last let out a leaden sigh.
“I will judge it with my own eyes. Everything will wait until then.” With that, he rose from his chair and began to ascend the stairs with an air that defied all protest.
The others exchanged meaningful looks before following him out. Even behind their black masks, it was clear that many of them were angry. But the elder had made his decision. No one voiced any objection.
Well, well, well. What will become of the Asura now? Nefer wondered, as though the question had nothing to do with him. He looked over at Krishna, who alone was still seated.
“If you can’t get up, I’ll lend you a hand,” he offered.
“Spare me. But I would like to know one thing. If the battle between Felix and that monster had continued to the end, which do you think would have won?”
“I can hardly answer when I wasn’t there myself,” Nefer replied. “Although...”
“Yes?”
“Just something from the end of the report. It said that their battle was so beyond belief it felt like being trapped in a long nightmare.” As Nefer smirked behind his mask, he heard Krishna’s intake of breath.
“Are you...enjoying this?” she asked. Nefer turned away from her.
“Couldn’t say. Even I don’t rightly understand parts of it,” he said vaguely. Just as he mounted the staircase, the cellar was rocked by an earth-shattering roar. The rain came down harder still.
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