The Devil Incarnate (The Devil of Ponong series #2) (13 page)

“I’ll be damned if I’ll treat a snake like a relation.”

“It’s not –”
Kyam could see that it was no use trying to convince Voorus that the Ponongese
wouldn’t see it as a claim of kinship. “Where it gets tricky is when they defer
to the person with greater knowledge or experience with a given situation. If
one of them refers to an obviously younger person as ‘uncle,’ that’s the person
in charge, but only in that situation. An hour later, the same person might
refer to that younger person as ‘little brother.’ Unless they both call each
other ‘uncle,’ and then it gets really convoluted.” The more he tried to
explain it, the more complicated it seemed. In real life, anyone who paid
attention could understand what was going on. Voorus didn’t seem like the type
to pay attention.

“See? What a mess. Some people are born to lead, and others
to follow, no matter what the situation.”

“Would you listen to the advice of a fishermen if you were
trying to catch a fish? Sure. But you wouldn’t ask him to write your will.”

With a twist of his hand, Voorus waved that argument away,
but his eyes lit up. “Interesting that you should use that phrase. Guess what?
I’ve decided to study law. With these new soldiers taking over, there’s no way
to distinguish myself and earn my articles of transport home. But as a lawyer,
I might. Never wanted to be a soldier anyway.”

“Then why are you in uniform?”

“Mother’s friend arranged entry to the academy, and how
could I say no? It’s not as if I had private tutors or the kinds of connections
that get you into a university.”

It took connections to get into the military academy too, so
Voorus’ mother’s friend must have been a member of one of the thirteen
families. She had good taste, and more sense than her son.

“Borrowed a set of books from one of the assistants to Chief
Justice Cuulon. He hasn’t even cracked them open. Said the Chief Justice tells
them what’s what, saves them the trouble. Once I got the hang of the language,
though, I plan to figure it out for myself. From what I hear, it’s fascinating
stuff. For instance, did you know that it was perfectly legal to seize the
agricultural terraces when we colonized Ponong? Their women owned the land, but
by Thampurian law women can’t hold property, so of course it all came under the
control of the colonial government.”

“Well, that’s neat and clear, isn’t it? I can’t understand
why the Ponongese still call it theft.” Kyam swore he could hear QuiTai’s words
coming from his mouth. In his mind, he heard her voice, and that dry sense of
humor. But if women couldn’t hold property, how did QuiTai own the Red
Happiness? The Devil had to be the owner. Or was it someone else? No wonder
QuiTai wanted those deed documents buried where no one could find them.

“Although it’s a shame they can’t. My uncle seized the
family home when my father died.” Voorus shook his head. “Doesn’t seem right.
It was all my mother had.”

“Why didn’t it go to you?”

“Happened before I was born.”

“Why didn’t she claim your rights afterwards?”

Voorus glanced away. “My uncle made threats. Washed out to
sea with the tide now. Anyway, a friend of Mother’s bought a small place for us
to live in a decent enough neighborhood, so we weren’t on the streets.”

The fact that they
didn’t fight it probably meant Voorus had been born suspiciously late after his
mother’s husband died. That friend who got Voorus into the military was
probably Voorus’ real father. Since Kyam didn’t feel like being pummeled
bloody, he decided to keep that deduction to himself.

Kyam juggled his
packages in the hopes of reminding Voorus he had errands to run. The top one
almost fell.

 
“You’re going
to drop one of those. Hire a boy.” Voorus glanced up and down the street.

They were still close to the government building where the
new soldiers roved in packs to scare away Ponongese. The only people in the
shops were Thampurian or Ingosolian. A cat-eyed Li man squatted by an alleyway
staircase behind the soldiers as he smoked a kur.

“I need a market basket,” Kyam said.

Voorus drew back. “Have you gone native, man? Or has the sun
cooked your brains?”

Kyam reined in his anger. He’d barely noticed all the stupid
rules everyone followed in the past year and didn’t want to start now. The
petty taboos grated on his nerves. There was no need to act like a Thampurian.
He was one. No market basket could change that.

“I need –” He
almost said “rum” just to see what level of outrage Voorus’ face could twist
into. So he’d acquired a taste for the local brew. What of it? It was far
cheaper than whiskey and much better quality than any of the imported spirits.

“I’m not going to carry anything for you, so stop asking,”
Voorus said. “Ha! You need a boy; I found you one.” He strode across the street
to the old cat-man. The cat-man tried to back away, but Voorus gripped him by
the collar and dragged him over to Kyam.

Kyam wondered where he had seen this odd old fellow before. The
Li Islands were a Thampurian colony several hundred miles south of Ponong in
the Te’Am Ocean, but few Li lived on Ponong, just as few Ponongese moved to the
Li Islands. If they wanted to escape Thampurian rule, they made the dangerous
and expensive voyage to the southern continent. Chances were if Kyam had seen
an elderly Li in Levapur before, it had been this man. But where? If he saw the
man in context, he’d probably recognize him right away, but outside of his
normal setting, Kyam couldn’t place him.

Voorus grabbed
Kyam’s packages and shoved them into the old man’s hands. “There. My good deed
for the day. When you get back to Thampur, tell everyone how helpful I was. Who
knows? A good word might save me.” He looked at his pocket watch. “Is that the
time? I’m supposed to lead drills at the fortress in an hour. I keep forgetting
that I need to leave earlier now that the funicular is broken. I wonder when
they’ll get it fixed?”

“Never, if the
governor doesn’t allow the workers to pass through the town square to get to
it.”

With a grin, Voorus shrugged. “This island... You won’t miss
it, will you? Anyway, I have to go. I leave your packages in good hands.”

He stepped smartly down the street.

Kyam turned to the old cat-man who stood patiently holding
his shopping. “I think I know you. Where have I seen you before? What’s your
name?”

“LiHoun, Mister, Sir.” The old man bowed many times as he
balanced the packages. “I’m honored to carry the worthy’s –”

“I’ll give you an extra coin if you stop treating me like a Thampurian.”

LiHoun slowly grinned, showing mostly toothless gums. His
demeanor changed with his tone. “As Mister Zul wishes.”

Something about LiHoun still made him wary. It wasn’t
anything he could point to, but the muscles across his back stayed tight. Paying
attention to his body’s warning signs had saved his life a few times. He
certainly wouldn’t head down any deserted alleyways with the cat-man, and until
they parted ways, he’d keep his eyes and ears open for suspicious behavior.

“Come on. I need to buy a bottle or two,” Kyam said.

LiHoun easily
balanced Kyam’s bundles as they headed for the spirit merchant’s shop.

~ ~ ~

Kyam left LiHoun on the veranda outside the spirit
merchant’s shop and went inside. The merchant acknowledged Kyam before turning
his attention back to his other customers. Fresh wood shavings were arranged
artfully around bottles stacked on wooden crates; Kyam supposed that was meant
to inspire trust that the bottles were imported and not refilled with imitation
local spirits, but he knew from his days at sea that the crates were too clean
to have been in a ship’s hold.

Kyam pretended to read labels while he watched LiHoun
through the glass-paned door. LiHoun waited with the resigned patience of an
errand runner. Kyam almost turned away as the other customers in the shop
started talking about the marketplace. They seemed more upset about the
inconvenience of having to go to the Ponongese market and their fear of the
slums of Old Levapur than the injustice to the Ponongese merchants. He held his
tongue as long as he could, but just as he was about to join the conversation,
he saw LiHoun’s back straighten.

What had caught the old man’s attention? Kyam peered down
the street. Five soldiers had turned the corner., and LiHoun was looking directly
at them.

It was Kyam’s first good look at the new soldiers. He’d
passed by them before, but he’d been drunk and couldn’t remember much. This
time, like LiHoun, he watched them pass by.

Oddly, there were no insignias or other identifiers on the
soldier’s uniforms. It was as if their posting, position, and even ranks had
been deliberately obscured. Who were these men, and why had they come to
Levapur? From their apparent familiarity with each other, they’d served
together before, possibly for years. Strangers didn’t move together that way.
If Voorus’ quip about every Thampurian in Levapur being there in disgrace was
right, there had been a scandal back in Thampur that he hadn’t heard about
– something big enough to put an entire troop into exile.

He should ask Hadre. No, he wasn’t going to talk to Hadre
until Hadre apologized for attacking Grandfather. He could figure this out
without Hadre’s help anyway.

LiHoun, he noticed, watched the soldiers until they reached
the end of the street. Then the old man finally relaxed.

 
“Can I help
you, Sir?” The spirit merchant asked Kyam.

Kyam turned away from the window. “Two bottles of rum,
please.”

He ignored the rude stares of the other customers as he paid
for his bottles. There were more important matters than their approval. It felt
as if he’d been yanked back suddenly into his old work as a spy, and every
sense, every thought, honed in on LiHoun. The old man was watching the
soldiers. Why? Who did he work for? Kyam didn’t like jumping to conclusions
without any proof, but the name that immediately came to mind was the Devil.

~ ~ ~

Kyam shot glances at LiHoun as they walked toward Kyam’s
apartment. How could he broach the subject of the Devil without alarming the
old man? What if he were mistaken?

“I’m sure I’ve seen you before. Not many Li live in
Levapur,” Kyam began.

“I used to run errands for the workers at PhaJut’s. Now I’m
at the Dragon Pearl, but I assist their customers.”

Something LiHoun said earlier came back to him. “You know my
name.”

“It can be helpful in my line of work.”

“Fetching and carrying, or gathering information?”

It seemed as if LiHoun knew where this conversation might
lead. From the twitch of his upper lip, he was enjoying Kyam’s attempts to get
to the point. Cat and mouse. Of course, a Li would enjoy that game.

“I saw you watching the soldiers.”

They stopped at the steps to Kyam’s apartment building.
LiHoun passed the packages back to Kyam and put his hand out for his coins.
After unsuccessfully trying to juggle his purchases and reach into his trouser
pockets, Kyam set the packages on the top step.

“They are not typical colonial militia men,” LiHoun said.

LiHoun wasn’t even
going to try to pretend he’d been stringing for the Dragon Pearl. That was
unusually direct. Direct for a Thampurian, Kyam reminded himself, not a Li, or
a Ponongese like QuiTai. He wondered why the Devil was interested in the
soldiers. If they were cracking down on the black market, Kyam was all for it,
but so far all he’d seen was their attack on legitimate businesses.

Kyam jangled the
coins in his hand.

“And you’re not a
typical errand boy, uncle LiHoun.” Kyam opened his hand.

LiHoun glanced at the coins but didn’t take them.

“Two for carrying my packages. One for not bowing and
scraping. And three more if you can pass a message to the Devil.”

LiHoun said nothing, but looked directly at him. There
weren’t many Li or Ponongese who would dare such insolence, but he had told the
man not to treat him like a Thampurian. The cat-man’s vertical pupils were
narrow slits in the middle of murky green irises. Nothing in his expression
suggested shock, anger, or wariness at the mention of the Devil.

While he had few coins left to live on, Kyam took a valuable
one out of his pocket and put it on his open palm next to the others.

Kyam glanced up and down the street. No one was near. “I
prefer that you tell his concubine this: someone paid Petrof the werewolf to
kill her. I don’t think he’s succeeded – yet. He must be stopped.”

“Must?”

Kyam jerked back. Had he told the wrong person? Was the
Devil behind Petrof’s attempts to kill her? Anger flashed through him. How many
times had he seen bruises on QuiTai’s neck? Was the Devil stupid enough to harm
the woman who controlled his entire criminal enterprise? As far as he could
tell, she was the brains behind the underground network. The Devil was just
some lucky bastard who got a free ride on her accomplishments.

“Tell the Devil that
if she dies, I will hold him personally responsible for failing to protect her.
If she dies, I will come after him,” Kyam growled, inches from LiHoun’s face.

Understanding dawned on LiHoun’s ancient face along with a
grin. “Ah.” He snatched the coins from Kyam’s palm as Kyam gaped in shock.
LiHoun backed down the stairs, every crooked tooth showing, eyes squinting with
merriment. “Don’t worry, Colonel Zul. I know how to keep a secret.”

He damn well better, Kyam thought, or QuiTai was in more
danger than before.

~ ~ ~

Kyam set his packages on the desk in the corner of his
apartment and went to light his cooking fire. Most people left theirs burning,
but he couldn’t afford that. The flame wouldn’t catch, and he was almost out of
matches. He checked the jar of juam nut oil under the burner. There was barely
any left, and he didn’t have enough coins left to fill it.