The Mad Voyage of Prince Malock (23 page)

“Let me guess,” said Jenur. “That's not what
happened, is it?”

Kinker shook his head. He tried to focus on Jenur
and not think about what he saw. Because if he did, he doubted he
would be able to finish the story.

“Deber even established a group known as the
Priestly Guard. Their job, supposedly, was to act as bodyguards for
the priests, but I know firsthand that they often carried out
Deber's dirty work, the kind of work she would never do herself. I
bet they were behind some of those 'accidental' deaths, but I don't
have any proof for that.”

“Reminds me of Ruwa,” said Jenur. “But
continue.”

Kinker put a hand on his forehead. The memories were
coming back swiftly now. The temple's inner sanctum. Deber standing
with a knife. An innocent young boy. The more Kinker talked, the
more vivid these memories became, but he couldn't stop. He had made
a deal with Jenur and he intended to be true to his word, no matter
how hard it may be. Even if it made her hate him.

“About a month before I tried to leave Destan, I was
in the Temple of Kano after services were over,” said Kinker. “I
wasn't there because I wanted to be. I had somehow lost my lucky
lure, a genuine shiner—”

“I don't know what that is,” said Jenur.

“A really rare lure,” said Kinker. “Given to me by
my father before he drowned. Anyway, I'd somehow lost it and
thought I might have left it in the Temple's main worship area
because I often brought it with me to worship. The Temple's doors
are usually open during the day for anyone seeking guidance from
Kano, but on that day no one was there but me while I searched the
seats for my lure. I eventually gave up and was going to leave when
I heard a sound.”

“What sound?”

His memory flared again. Walking to the door.
Opening it. And wishing he hadn't.

“It sounded like a little boy crying,” said Kinker.
The words came out broken, but he tried to keep them as coherent as
he could. “Very faint, but I knew I wasn't hearing things, even
though I couldn't see the little boy anywhere. It's unusual for
little children to be in the Temple by themselves, so I searched
for him so I could bring him back to his parents.”

As he spoke, the story played out before him like a
play. Saw Deber, smiling, as she handed him the knife.

“That's when I noticed a door behind the altar,”
said Kinker. “I mean, I had always seen the door, of course, but it
was never opened and I never saw anyone go in or out of it. Always
assumed it led to the head priestess's chambers. On that day,
though, it was cracked, like someone had forgotten to close it all
the way. The sound of the crying boy was coming from it.”

He no longer saw Jenur now. All he saw was the
little boy, his brown hair unkempt, staring up at him, the tears
streaming down his round young face.

“And I found the boy,” said Kinker. “He was tied
down in front of an old stone altar, one covered in blood. The room
was dark and small. It looked like nothing like the rest of the
Temple; in fact, it felt evil. I remember the little boy seeing me,
begging me to free him, asking me to make the pain stop.”

He raised the knife high. He could still feel Deber
watching him, her eyes showing no sympathy or kindness in them at
all.

“So I tried to untie the boy,” said Kinker. “But the
knots were too tight and my hands were too weak. I tried to leave,
telling the boy I'd be back with a knife or some help, but before I
could leave, Deber appeared in the doorway with two of her Priestly
Guard. She was shocked to see me and ordered her two guards to pin
me down. She closed the door behind her, plunging the room into
darkness, lit only by a small candle she had brought with her.”

He hesitated. Felt the darkness around him. He
didn't want to do it, but he knew what they would do to him if he
did.

“'What are you doing here?' she demanded. 'Were you
trying to rescue this little boy? How did you know he was
here?'

“I said I didn't know, that I just found him. That
seemed to calm her somewhat, but she still was angry at me. For a
moment, I thought she was going to kill me. Her Priestly Guards
were both strong enough that they could have taken my life with
little effort if they wanted to. She had a long knife in her hand
that I'd never seen before and I could just imagine it piercing my
heart or slitting my throat. It was terrifying.”

The little boy was still crying, still asking him
not to do it. He wanted to tell the boy that he didn't want to do
it, but he didn't have a choice. Deber stood nearby, looking quite
impatient, and Kinker hated her for it.

“Instead, Deber handed me the knife and told me to
drive it into the young boy's heart. When I asked her why, she told
me it was because that was what Kano wanted. 'Kano desires human
sacrifice,' she said to me. 'In order to continue gaining her
blessing, we must sacrifice this little boy's life. It is our only
option.'

“That didn't sound right to me at all. I had never
been taught Kano wanted human sacrifices. I mean, I had been taught
that Kano could be a harsh goddess and that she sometimes required
great sacrifices from her followers, but this went against
everything I knew. So I told her no.

“But she said, 'If you don't, I will kill you and
the boy.'

“I asked her what was to stop me from telling the
other people about this. I knew that most of the Destanians
wouldn't stand for this.”

Kinker looked over his shoulder at Deber one last
time, her eyes glinting maliciously in the glow of her candle.

“And she said, 'Because, fisherman, you will never
want to tell anyone that you killed an innocent boy. I will make
sure everyone knows you were willing and eager to do it. Your
reputation will be tarnished, especially when I mention how you
tried to kill me, too.'

“And I realized she said the truth. The only way I
could get out of that situation alive was to kill the boy. But if I
did that and told everyone about what Deber was really doing, then
everyone would know that I murdered a child. I could see no way out
of it that ended well for me.”

He turned to the boy and, the tears streaming down
his own face, praying for forgiveness, brought the knife down.

“I was a coward,” said Kinker. “An idiotic coward. I
... I spilled the boy's blood on that altar. Deber offered praise
to Kano. They let me wash my hands and then moved me out of the
Temple. I didn't tell anyone else what I did. There was no way I
could, no way anyone would believe me.”

He was now being hurried out of the secret room,
staring at his clean hands. There was still a small bloodstain on
his shirt, but no doubt it would be easily washed out.

“I decided to flee Destan after that,” said Kinker.
“Couldn't handle it. I wanted to leave, but the Priestly Guard kept
an eye on me, thwarting my every attempt to leave. I think Deber
was afraid her secret would get out if I left. I finally got my
chance a month ago, during murder season. The weather was so bad
that not even the Priestly Guard dared patrol the shores like they
usually do, so I got on my rowboat, rowed out to sea, and ended up
here. You know the rest.”

“That's ... awful,” said Jenur.

Her voice broke through his memory and he suddenly
saw her again. She still sat in her chair, tied down, looking
rather uncomfortable.

“I get why you didn't want to talk about it before,”
said Jenur. “That's just ... I can't even put that into words.
Horrible. Evil. Monstrous.”

“I know,” said Kinker. “I know.”

The two were quiet for a while.

Then Jenur said, “Kinks? If somehow I survive all of
this and we end up going back north, I'd like to go up to Deber's
front door and knock that old witch out. As a favor to you.”

“You mean you don't think I'm horrible for killing a
little boy?” said Kinker.

Jenur shrugged, which looked awkward due to the
ropes binding her. “I don't know what to think, to be honest. What
you did wasn't right, but on the other hand, you were forced to do
it. It's all very confusing.”

“Agreed,” said Kinker. “Sometimes I think I fled
when I did because I was trying to kill myself. I am certain that's
what Deber thought and still thinks. She probably thinks I'm
dead.”

“Bet if you showed up on her doorstep, she'd have a
heart attack,” said Jenur with a smirk. “She'd probably think
you're a ghost coming back to get her.”

Kinker chuckled. “That would be rather amusing, but
I don't think I'll ever return to Destan. There's just too much
pain, too much sorrow, for me there.”

Jenur nodded. “Well, a deal's a deal. You told me
your story. I'll tell you mine. Mine's pretty bad, but after
hearing yours, it doesn't really seem as bad as yours for some
reason, even though I've killed loads more people.”

Kinker blinked. “What?”

“I'm getting ahead of myself,” said Jenur. “I should
start at the beginning, like you did. But I still don't think you
want to hear it. You've got enough sadness on your mind that I
don't think you really need more.”

“A deal's a deal, like you said,” said Kinker. “I
will listen. Just as you did to mine.”

Jenur's grim expression didn't change. “If you
insist ... well, I'm from Ruwa. Know where that is?”

Kinker shook his head. “No, I don't.”

“It's on the eastern side of the Northern Isles,”
said Jenur. “Right in the center of the Friana Archipelago. It's
not as small as Destan, but it's still a small island. Had a royal
family that ruled for centuries. Never a big player in
international politics; actually, from what I've gathered about its
history, Ruwa's always been doing its best to avoid being crushed
by the bigger powers, like the Red Empire or the Aquarian
Federation.”

She didn't sound enthusiastic about it, but Kinker
said nothing.

“In recent years, though, Ruwa has been wracked by a
variety of natural and economic disasters,” said Jenur. “There's
little food or water and most people live in poverty. Crime is
rampant and even the king isn't safe. Not sure how it got that way,
to be honest, because it happened before I was born. I was told
that the last king incited the wrath of the gods onto Ruwa; if so,
fuck the gods.”

Kinker's eyes widened. “Jenur, watch your language.
Do you want the gods to hear you saying stuff like that?”

“I've been saying stuff like that for years,” said
Jenur. “And not a single god has given me any shit about it. I'm
thinking they either don't care or have bigger fish to fry. Either
way, I don't care.”

“Hey,” said Kinker, snapping his fingers. “You don't
care about the gods, which means you don't worship Tinkar. Doesn't
that count as—”

“Kinks, you know Malock won't listen to reason,”
said Jenur. “He's already decided I'm guilty and the cards just
confirmed that. Anyway, you're supposed to be listening to my
story, not trying to think of ways to prove my innocence.”

Kinker sat back on the stool, feeling disappointed.
“You're right. Continue.”

Jenur looked a little irritated now, like she didn't
appreciate the interruption. “So those are the conditions I grew up
in. I don't know who my parents were. They probably abandoned me
when I was a baby, maybe couldn't feed me. That's actually rather
common on Ruwa. Parents who can't feed their children often leave
them to fend for themselves in the wilderness. Most don't
survive.”

“That's horrible,” said Kinker. “But how did you
survive?”

“I got lucky,” said Jenur. “An aquarian named Quro
found and raised me. He was basically my father.”

“You were raised by an ... aquarian?” said Kinker,
wrinkling his nose.

“Yes,” sand Jenur. “Have a problem with that?”

Kinker shook his head. “No. Just wanted to be
sure.”

“Anyway,” said Jenur, “Quro was a member of the Dark
Tigers. Ever heard of 'em?”

“I think so,” said Kinker. “They're an assassin's
guild, correct?”

“The best in the Northern Isles,” said Jenur.
“Our—their—headquarters is on Ruwa, deep in the Swamp of Light.
It's treacherous terrain, easy to get lost in and even easier to
die in. In all of my years as a member, I don't remember any
non-Dark-Tiger getting through the Swamp on their own. So I never
spent a lot of time around other children, mostly because the other
Dark Tigers didn't have children and didn't want any.”

“Yet they still let Quro raise you?” said
Kinker.

“Quro was a pretty well-respected member,” said
Jenur. “He promised his fellow Tigers that I would be a Dark Tiger
when I grew up. So as you can imagine, my childhood was a little,
um, unconventional. You know how you said you were swimming before
you learned how to walk? Well, I learned how to slit the throats of
rodents before I could walk.”

“Why did he want to raise you?” said Kinker. “If the
other Dark Tigers didn't want children, what made him so
different?”

“Easy,” said Jenur. “Quro had a daughter who he lost
to the death plague, a disease that occasionally crops up on Ruwa
and when it does, it always kills. Think he might have seen me as
his second chance, even though I'm human and he's aquarian.”

Kinker shook his head. “So you're not a ship
saboteur after all.”

“Why would I be?” said Jenur. “Is that what Malock
told you? I'd never sink that low. Yeah, we Dark Tigers may have
been assassins, maybe even unpopular assassins, but in all of my
time with the Guild, I never heard or saw anyone take on a ship
saboteur job. We're not scum.”

Jenur looked so annoyed at being conflated with the
ship saboteurs that Kinker regretted saying that. He was happy,
though, that she wasn't one, even though there was no way of
proving that to Malock or anyone else.

“Anyway, as you can guess, I had to grow up fast.
The Dark Tigers were a rough group and you have to be tough if
you're going to make it. I didn't actually leave the Swamp of
Light, though, until I was sixteen, which is the youngest age at
which a person can join the Guild. That was when I was given my
first job, a simple job that involved assassinating a priest of
Ghatmos who was pissing off a few royals. Did it and came home in
three days, which is pretty good for a newbie like I was.”