Chapter 7

At the sound of the first voice, its brand flares to life, doubling it over in pain. It clenches its jaws to keep its scream inside as it realizes what is happening.

Once a year, the Dirarch summoned House Kilcharni’s soldiers, servants, Master of Death and it to renew their oath of loyalty. Every time, he commanded them to be vigilient, to protect the House, and to drive away any who intruded. Every time, it answered, “I obey.” And now, the Dirarch’s command demands obedience.

Fuck this House for making me a slave to their whims. Through gritted teeth is mutters, “I obey.”

The pain fades, becoming a steady, bearable pulse. It clicks open the closet and listens: six downstairs and more outside. Four are soldiers, from their boots. One moves almost silently—a Death.

“Find the bastard,” orders the sixth man: Felleen, once heir to House Talique, now Dirarch. “I want him alive. ”

It remembers then, the time Silinie ordered it to guard the tree house bridge to prevent her and Relleen from being disturbed. Felleen teased it mercilessly to get it to let him pass. When it hadn’t moved or shown emotion, Felleen ruffled its short hair, laughed, and handed it the fresh cupcakes he’d been bringing the others.

The man was not going to be nearly as kind this time.

With silent steps it slips out of the closet, and moves to the top of the great stair. It draws in a deep breath and yells, “Who dares enter House Kilcharni uninvited?”

“He’s upstairs!” Felleen says. “Get him!”

It retreats to one of the few solid places in the middle of the hall. Boots thunder on the stairs and three soldiers charge it, swords out. The floor gives way and they fall fifteen feet to the hallway below. A bone snaps and a man screams; the other two groan and swear. One down. It had hoped for more. Quick, careful steps lead it to the classroom window. Below, soldiers are running into the manor. It jumps out, tucking its body into a ball. At the last moment, it shoves its legs out hard into the collarbones of the soldier beneath it. Unlike the Death it jumped on earlier, the soldier doesn’t hear it coming. The man’s collar bones shatter and he collapses. It hits the ground rolling and slashes open the inside of another soldier’s leg as it goes past him. Blood spurts from his severed artery and the soldier grabs at it, knowing he’ll die if it isn’t staunched.

The other soldiers in the courtyard charge, but it uses the flower bed as a launch pad to flip above them and land in their midst. At this range, daggers are more useful than swords, and it slashes two of them before they can bring their weapons to bear. A spin takes it to the opening left by the injured and it dashes through, knowing movement is its best defence.

Over the flower beds it goes again, and jumps through the parlour window. It races past Kalinia’s ghost to stab another soldier in the back, dagger breaking through the links of their mail, tearing the padded shirt beneath and sinking into his kidney. It yanks the weapon free and runs.

Through the parlour to the dining room, up the wall to grab the ceiling above and haul itself to the floor above. The men below shout, but not in panic. Orders fly back and forth as they ready for it’s next attack. But the house still has secrets buried in its burnt walls, and it knows how to use them. It opens a hidden servant stair, dashes down to the kitchen and sprints to another stairway that will take it to the library. It comes out at speed, and a solid length of wood smacks back of its head hard enough to make it’s vision go black.

Though barely conscious, years of brutal training keep it on its feet. It slashes out blindly, trying to force its attacker away while it regains its senses. When its eyes focus again, it finds Dwingtal standing beside the hidden door, a thick wooden truncheon in his hand.

“Surrender, little Death,” House Talique’s Master of Death says, his voice is almost kind. “You cannot win.”

A quick look shows a Death squatting in each library window. It backs away until it fetches up against the wall. Five soldiers with swords ready come in and spread out. Behind them, his face twisted with hatred and unreleased grief, comes Felleen.

“You murdered my father,” Felleen says, as he advances, his blade pointed at its stomach. “I will spend months making you regret it.”

The Master of Death grabs his shoulder, stopping him. It mutters, “fuck,” under its breath. If Felleenn had come close enough, it could have taken him hostage. With nothing else left, it tries words. “Your Dirarch was killed the same way as Talint.”

“I don’t care how you did it,” Felleen snarls.

“I didn’t do it.” It looks at the Master of Death. “I don’t even know how to kill a man like that. Do you?”

The Master of Death’s face gives no clues. He only says, “Drop your weapons, and surrender.”

“Fuck you.” The brand burns hot in its chest, telling it to drive off the intruders, and not caring that it will die in the attempt. It crouches for one last charge. “Fuck your dead father, Felleen. Fuck your mother, fuck your House, fuck this House, and FUCK YOU!”

Which is when Felleen’s mouth opens wide and a blood-coated curved spike thrusts out with the sound of a terrible wet cough.

Something is behind him, eight feet tall and round like a pillar, with red and brown skin that oozes a clear liquid stinking of acid and smoke. Where the creature’s head should be is only a round lump with seven twisted horns. Twelve tentacles wrap around Felleen, the short, sharp talons lining them driving holes into his flesh. Fallen tries to scream, but can only wheeze. Blood runs down his legs from the hole where the creature’s long tail has driven through his body. The tentacles squeeze hard and for a terrible moment the only sound in the room is his blood splatting against the ground.

Its brand burns white hot.

The Master of Death moves first, his slashing daggers bouncing off the thing’s tentacles. It charges next, launching into the air and stabbing with both blades at what it assumes is the creature’s head. The thing releases Felleen and lashes out. One tentacle slams into it, sending it flying. It sees Felleen’s body fall to the floor just before it smashes into the charred remains of a bookshelf.

The world goes black.

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