Authors: Carole Cummings
Wolf's-own: Koan (41 page)
And where the fuck had she gone?
Rihansei was just staring at Jacin, unaffected, with the bowl still extended. “It is not poison, little Catalyst. Merely a pathway to a long-delayed journey.” He waved at the chains. “This was once a place of sacrifice. In some ways, it still is. I think this does not appall you as it would some.” He paused with a smile, his red eyes sharp. “You will, however, be allowed no such... satisfaction here. Leu is perhaps misguided, but she sees clearly in this—Kamen would be displeased upon his return to find that I have allowed you to take matters into your own hands, as it were. The chains remain. I think you have labored for perfection long enough."
Jacin's eyes snapped down to slits and his hands fisted. “You can't see in me. You don't know—"
"You have no idea what I can and cannot know, little agitator. Nor can you know what I've seen until I show you. Only a fool would spurn what he most needs in his haste not to know it.” Rihansei's eyes glittered like rubies in the wavering light. “Only a fool would chase the impossible, honestly hoping to catch it."
He leaned in, extending his other hand; there wasn't even time to flinch before one of the little lizards skittered from beneath Rihansei's sleeve and sailed toward Jacin. It latched onto his finger, sinking tiny stinging teeth in deep. Jacin had to shake quite harshly before the little thing let go and went flying from the end of his finger.
"What the
fuck
!” Jacin snarled. It stung. And then it
burned
. Shit, did the damned things have venom?
Poisonous
venom? Jacin hadn't even suspected they had
teeth
. “What—?"
"You are, perhaps, Fate's Fool, but a fool in truth you are not,” Rihansei said, as if nothing had even happened. “You've always known perfection is hopeless, even for gods. Was the torment of reaching for it imposed by Asai?” He paused and narrowed those freaky eyes. “Or by you?"
You are a sigh's breadth from perfection, Ghost. So little have I seen for the Untouchable, but this... I saved you for this, Jacin-rei. I made you for this. Do it now and save your family, save your people.
Not a voice in his head—a whisper in his ear. Beishin's voice with Beishin's hands reaching out for him.
Jacin was starting to feel dizzy.
You did this, little Ghost.
Everything was going foggy, and a strange sense of displacement settled over Jacin, like he was seeing two realities at once. The close little chamber, Rihansei's bulk settled in front of him, just out of reach, and a back alley hundreds of miles away, where Jacin's world had ended not once but twice; the bowl of whatever it was taking up far too much space in Jacin's vision, and Caidi falling silently from the sky, and the
not-sound
of her silence—
"Stop it,” Jacin breathed, choked and thin, and he put his hands to his ears.
There'd been something in that lizard's bite. Had to be. Everything was turning cottony and too slow.
Not perfect, never be perfect, could've saved them and failed, walked away from the ones you had left, and what do you suppose is happening to them right now, since the little Ghost left them for—
"
STOP
!” Panting, shaking, and he couldn't stop it any more than he could stop the voices. No, not voices, only one, the only one that had mattered then, and damn it, why did it
still
matter now?
Hardly perfect, is it, Jacin-rei?
Damn it, he'd
tried
, he'd tried so
hard
, but he couldn't save... anyone.
You have not yet attained perfection, little Ghost. How it must pain you, knowing they all look to you, and knowing you can never make the measure.
"Stop,” Jacin wheezed, breathless, “please, just...
stop
, I can't—"
A harsh grip settled over the shackles around his wrists and wrenched his hands away from his ears. “They will not stop, little Catalyst. They will never stop, until you silence them yourself. Even Kamen cannot take this magic away, for it is not magic at all, and nothing of the gods.” The grip relaxed, and Rihansei placed the bowl in Jacin's shaking hand. “This journey can be forced.” He held up a dart between his white fingers.
The small sting at the back of Jacin's neck flared, and he thought of Malick and fire that came out of nowhere and black ash on his tongue. It made him want to howl.
"But I think, perhaps, force has been too much a part of your life, no?"
Jacin glowered at the tea and tried not to actually snuffle. His head was spinning, and nausea crawled up the back of his throat. He was far too vulnerable here. He couldn't just
sit
here and accept it.
He lifted his free hand, the chain clanking heavily as he twitched and shook. “Then remove these and the question of force can be settled altogether."
Or come a little closer so I can get my hands on you, because I know you must have a key somewhere on that massive heap of muscle and ink.
Bloody hell, it would probably take Jacin hours to search the man. He wondered how long Leu would be gone, if she was going to stage an unlikely rescue, or maybe she was dead, and then he wondered why he was wondering. He wondered if he could actually take Rihansei if he tried, or if moving too fast would make him pass out.
"I think releasing you now would do me very little good.” Rihansei chuckled. “When your journey is complete and your head is your own,
then
we shall remove all question. I have grown too old to chase novices through their own minds, and far too old to chase
you
through the streets of Mitsu before your journey's end. The chains are as much for your protection as mine, little troublemaker."
Jacin looked down at his hand, at the rust-brown stains caking the creases. “You're afraid I'll get... violent?” That shouldn't be so funny. He shouldn't be stifling a snort. It shouldn't be so hard to
think
.
"This can be an easy thing, or it can be the end of you,” Rihansei said, still smiling, his red eyes... Jacin couldn't tell. Kind, perhaps, but he'd mistaken that look before. “Perfection is not a thing to be attained; merely an unreachable goal to guide one toward enlightenment. Not everything you did not attain was a failure, little vagary. Your Asai twisted your goals and sent you to darkness, but only because he saw the darkness gathered already within you, the echoes of too many lives to count. Such an old soul you are, and yet even I cannot breach the murk that obscures what you were.” He nodded at the bowl. “It is yours to reach for the light."
Sweat was springing out all over Jacin, slick and chilled. Somewhere in the back of his head, he wanted to demand that Rihansei give him the antidote to whatever poison was in that lizard's bite, but it seemed so much less important than what Rihansei had just said.
"What do you know about Asai?” Jacin demanded, though it came out somewhat slurred.
"Questions, questions,” Rihansei said, chuckling, “and the answers are right in your hand.” He leaned forward. Jacin couldn't even make himself lunge. “Would you not like to know, little Catalyst, what you were before you became what you are?"
Thick, hot tears burned behind the bridge of Jacin's nose. He looked away and blinked them back. “I was Untouchable."
"But never untouched,” Rihansei said softly. “And were you nothing before that?"
Nothing, you're nothing.
Jacin kept his mouth shut and glared blearily up through his fringe.
Rihansei sighed. “You are far too resistant to those things that you need.” He leaned in and tapped at the bite on Jacin's finger. “You should already have your feet on the path, and yet here you sit.” He shook his head and
tsked
.
"I'm... I....” Jacin lost the thread entirely. Whatever he'd meant to say just slipped out of reach, and his tongue settled in his mouth like a dead weight. He was drifting away while sitting right where he was.
"What does Kamen see in you that touches his mortal heart so?” Rihansei stood and strode slowly around the small pool, retrieving the water pipe from beside the cushions. “What holds his Wolf's heart so enthralled that he would wrap his soul around your finger and rest a trust he would give to none other, not even his own blood, upon your choices?” He nodded to the ring on Jacin's hand as he lowered himself back down to the floor. He lit the pipe and took a long, heavy drag, blowing out a thick puff into Jacin's face; Jacin couldn't stir himself enough to lift a hand and wave it away. “Would you not—finally—like to believe what he tells you when you writhe together like snakes?"
Say you love me. You don't have to mean it. You can lie.
... I fucking love you. Deal with it.
Jacin flinched a little. He could feel his cheeks flame, and he hated it.
"Is it not your deepest, most secret wish?” Rihansei whispered on a slow, heavy curl of smoke that twisted into Jacin's nostrils and singed his eyes.
"I wish....” It just fell out of Jacin's mouth. He didn't know if he was more disturbed that it had done so against his will, or that he had no idea how to complete the sentence.
"Drink the tea, little firebrand.” Soft. Compelling.
More smoke wafted and settled heavily at the back of Jacin's throat. It coiled into his nose, clouding around him in heavy, sticky strands, and he breathed it in deep, even though he had a vague, slippery idea that he shouldn't. Between the bite and the smoke, his head was humming with a gluey, distracting buzz, and his limbs felt abruptly like they didn't belong to him. Red eyes flayed him through the haze, and he couldn't look away.
"What...?” Jacin's mouth didn't want to work properly, his tongue a thick lump inside of it. “What are you... doing...?"
Rihansei smiled, his red eyes burning above it, closing in, growing, swallowing Jacin up. The bowl was at Jacin's mouth, and he merely opened obediently and let the tea pour into him.
"Setting you on the path,” Rihansei said then took the empty bowl and dipped it into the pool before setting it back in Jacin's hands. “You fight this too hard.” It sounded slightly annoyed. Disappointed, maybe. “And you are far too resistant to my persuasions. Look into the bowl, little Catalyst."
So compelling. So... not seductive, but Jacin kind of wished it was. He knew what to do with seduction. And killing. He knew how to fuck and how to kill. A matched set of skills. No wonder Malick liked him. He tried to stifle the giddy laugh, but it slithered out anyway. And then it turned into a weak little sob, and
fuck
, he wanted Malick. Not that he could actually ever tell Malick that. But still. Malick would know what to do with all of... this. This was.... What was this?
Where
was this? Jacin didn't want to be here.
"I want to leave,” he managed to slur.
"The bowl, little fool. All roads begin right here."
Jacin kept losing the thread, grasping for the sense in what Rihansei was saying, but it kept flittering away. Still, a vague sense of failure filtered through, and he had no idea why he cared, but he was so bloody sick of failing, and this seemed like something easy. Just look down into a bowl. How could he fuck that up? He blinked down into his reflection, watching him back from the murky water in the bowl. Lightheaded. Weak. Numb and weightless.
He dragged his eyes away. He didn't want to see what everyone else saw when they looked at him, because they never wanted to look, so why should he? Instead, he slid his glance sideways to where Rihansei's hand was set to Jacin's arm, the tattoos writhing all over snow-white skin now, colors shifting and shapes morphing.
Alive
. Or was it the lizards? Jacin blinked.
"Not yet,” Rihansei said softly, tipping Jacin's chin up until Jacin's gaze caromed into ruby depths. “The bowl."
He had to obey. He had no choice. Jacin skimmed his gaze once again to the bowl, just stared, wondering who that haggard-looking, blood-streaked young man was with the raggedy hair and the tiny little braid that was meant to remind him who he'd been and tell him who he was now, except he'd never quite figured out who he was, and none of it made sense anymore. His head swam in dips and blurry rises, and his reflection blinked myopically up at him, braid swinging. He only watched, detached, as the braid grew, wrapped around his neck like a noose, tightened, and even when it cut off air, he didn't reach for it.
"These are not chains,” Rihansei said, right in Jacin's ear as he took hold of Jacin's wrists. “Your tether. Your safety."
Rihansei withdrew his hands, and then they were... they looked like Malick's, holding on to Jacin tightly, firm body bracing up against Jacin's back and shoring him up. Jacin could've wept with the relief. Except they couldn't be Malick's hands a small natter at the back of Jacin's mind insisted, but Jacin had been having a hard time deciding what was real just lately, and he
wanted
them to be Malick's hands.
"It is all right, little fool. You are safe. Pull your safety close about you and
look
."
The hands—
Malick's
hands—tightened again and tipped the bowl closer to Jacin's face. Jacin couldn't speak, just stared down into the bowl, watching as his reflection grew larger and closer, until his nose touched the water. Thought,
drown
, just that one word, fuzzy and faraway but with a bitter tang to it, and he wondered if it was because he wanted it or feared it or was already doing it, and he had no idea which, so he just let it all go and fell into himself.
Carole Cummings lives with her husband and family in Pennsylvania, USA, where she spends her time trying to find time to write. She's the recipient of various amateur writing awards, and several of her short stories have been translated into Spanish, German, Chinese, and Polish.
Free shorts, sneak peeks at WIPs, and other miscellany can be found at www.carolecummings.com.
WOLF'S-OWN GHOST
WOLF'S-OWN: WEREGILD
WOLF'S-OWN: KOAN
WOLF'S-OWN: INCENDIARY
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