“You know why, Friend. Admitting it will be the most important pain. The first of many. In your case, thousands.”

  “You want to know why I became a killer, Scroll.”

  “Who. It always begins with who. Say the name, and the Scroll of Sins will begin.”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “I will not blame someone else for my crimes.”

  “An honest man does not blame others for his sins. I ask you to acknowledge who opened the door. This person did not birth the monster. He gave it comfort. You removed its shackles. One more time, Friend. Who opened the door?”

  “No. I can’t.”

  “Did you admire this person?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you love this person?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you think of this person as a savior?”

  Shit. He can’t know. How is it possible?

  “Yes. I did, Scroll. I had no life until he saved me.”

  “This is often how the prologue begins, Friend. Describe to me the exact moment, and your Scroll of Sins will begin.”

  Ryllen submerged and stood on the bottom, his eyes closed, his mind focused on the moment that changed his life. He had always hailed it as the night of his rebirth, but he also knew it fit into the Scroll’s definition of the opening that allowed the monster inside.

  I can’t do this to him. I won’t. He took me in because he cared.

  He pushed off the muddy bottom and resurfaced. The Scroll did not allow him to gather his thoughts.

  “Resume the position, Friend, and describe the exact moment the door was opened.”

  Ryllen wanted to fight, but again his resistance collapsed. He extended his arms and resumed a steady kick of the feet. What’s happening to me?

  “The moment,” Scroll repeated.

  “I was hiding in a culvert in Umkau. It was the worst part of the city. Nobody ever bothered me there.”

  “Why were you hiding?”

  “I ran away from my family. They gave up on me.”

  “Were you violent with them, Friend?”

  “No. I didn’t look like them, Scroll. They blamed me for our family’s fall, but I was an easy scapegoat after Father died.”

  “I see. To the culvert, Friend.”

  Ryllen never told this story to anyone, but it fell off his lips as if it happened a week ago, not ten years ago.

  “There were street vendors nearby. I was hungry and had no Dims. I waited until they closed because they threw out food.”

  “They took pity?”

  “Only at first, Scroll. After a while, they made me work for their leftovers. I pushed a broom or walked the streets barking for them.”

  “What were you doing on the night in question?”

  “I took a drug called mahali. It was a free sample handed out on the streets. They said it would take you to other worlds. All it did was blind me for hours. I never took it again. By the time I regained my sight, all the vendors were closed. I managed to catch the last owner as he was leaving. I told him I was starving. He said he would feed me but asked if I was willing to do anything. I told him I was.”

  The Scroll unleashed a long sigh of recognition.

  “Was his proposition sexual, Friend?”

  “It was, Scroll. He wasn’t the first. Many Hokkis want to know what it’s like to pump a Randall.”

  “A Randall?”

  “Slang for Chancellor. I’m not one, but they created me. I left with him because he promised to feed me. I had nothing left to lose. We walked a block and turned a corner. Three men stopped us. They had the most beautiful red and orange hair. The one in the middle told the vendor to beat it, and he did. In fact, he ran. I was frightened, but the middle one smiled and wrapped his arm around me. He said, ‘Your worries are over, Ryllen.’ He knew my name. He knew my background. He admired my braids. He said he’d been watching me for weeks. He said I didn’t deserve to live like this.”

  “What happened next, Friend?”

  “He bought me a meal and offered me a room in his flat. He said he knew people who could find work for me.”

  “Was there a sexual condition, Friend?”

  “No. He promised he would never touch me unless I wanted him to. He kept that promise. I found work. He became my best friend. I fell in love with him.”

  Ryllen’s eyes burned with tears.

  The Scroll sighed. “You loved him to such a degree you were willing to kill for him. Yes, Friend?”

  “I was.”

  “Love can be a beautiful creation, but often it is a mask to hide the dark. Say his name in full, Friend, and we will begin the recitation of all your many crimes.”

  His heart broke, just as it did all those years ago in Ronin Swallows.

  “Kai Durin.”

  13

  T HE SCROLL LEFT SATISFIED, insisting Ryllen’s journey toward reconstruction had begun. Tomorrow, he proclaimed, would launch an examination of blood. He said no more and waddled from the pond. Ryllen returned to the rack and waited for his body to dry and the mites to return. That fate was preferable to the one he was enduring.

  His confession was a full-on betrayal. Ryllen knew no other way to frame it. Yes, Kai was a killer before they met, but he was tactical. He reined in his worst impulses to focus solely on the Green Sun cause. In every other way, he lived a full and honorable life.

  You were a good man. You weren’t responsible for me.

  But now he was, apparently: The one who opened the door.

  Was that all Kai’s life amounted to? A failed terrorist, gunned down and forgotten, but for the monster he nurtured?

  A monster who did not have the dignity to die and remain dead.

  Ryllen realized the greater value of today’s lesson went beyond what the Scroll might have intended. The price of reflecting upon Kai Durin was the price of immortality: Those who cannot die carry the pain of all those who have.

  Would it still be as unforgiving in a hundred years? Two hundred? How many deaths would he carry on his shoulders?

  He curled up into a ball and tried to block out the possibilities.

  Evening approached, and so did his meal. He opened the basket with less enthusiasm than yesterday, though his stomach cried out in joy. Per Sela’s instructions, he sent her the used plate and empty bottle. A quick scan showed the same items as yesterday but for one.

  A pressed fish roll. It was a childhood favorite, though the meat’s texture was darker than Kohlna. He leaned out and held up the roll for the Scroll’s apprentice to see.

  “What kind of fish is this?”

  Sela frowned.

  “Scrim. Why do you ask? Is it not good enough for a Hokki?”

  “I was curious. I’ve never seen a color like this.”

  “It is a flatfish found in the rivers. I steamed it in the traditional manner. Scroll said you earned it.”

  He ate a chunk, allowing the texture to roll around in his mouth. It had a similar sweetness to Kohlna, but its aftertaste was more pungent. He discerned the sharp vinegar marinade, which reminded him of the Quomo-style seafood he once enjoyed while hopscotching between the traveling sea boils of Umkau and Zozo. It numbed the pain of his confession, though only for a flicker.

  “It’s good, Sela. Thank you.”

  The girl said nothing. She packed away the plate and bottle and took a seat across from Ryllen’s position. He remembered what she said last night of her mandate and decided to drag out the meal. He was not so starved this time.

  “Sela, may I ask you a question?”

  “I cannot stop you.”

  “Last night, I asked if you wanted to become a Scroll. You said you were here because you must be. Might I ask what you meant?”

  She squirmed, her eyes wandering everywhere but toward the rack.

  “My life is not your concern, Friend.”

  “But I’m sure you know many things about me. If we have this time together, shouldn’t we try to pass it in good company?”

  Sela laughed.

  “Ridiculous words. You are not good company for anyone. You are a killer. You have slaughtered people.”

  “Yes. I have. I know what I am. I spent two hours today reciting it. But I’m no threat to you. You may not believe this, but it’s possible to be a killer and a good person.”

  “No. I do not believe this. Everyone in the pond tries to win favor with the apprentice. They think this is how they will escape.”

  She’s not naïve, he thought. Better to know now.

  “The difference between me and other prisoners,” he said, “is that I don’t have to be in a rush to escape. I have time on my side.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m immortal. I’ve died many times and I’ll probably die many more. But I’ll still be around long after your grandchildren are gone.”

  He paid close attention to her body language, but Sela gave away nothing. Was his revelation a surprise? How much information had the Scroll given her?

  “I think it is a punishment to live forever, Friend. I pity you.”

  “You aren’t jealous at all?”

  “I might wish to live a long life to find happy moments inside it, but I would grow tired of the pain. What is the value of doing this without end?”

  “I suppose I’ll find out. I only learned about what I was seven years ago. I’m still getting used to the idea. Sela, you never answered my original question. Why must you be here?”

  “Finish your meal, Friend. No more questions.”

  Fair enough. For the moment.

  He finished his fish roll, dipping into the mash to discover a surprising new sensation. The tubers, fruit, and seeds he picked at with a measured pace. After every few nibbles, he looked up.

  She was watching him. Ryllen did not acknowledge her. He sipped away a quarter of his bottled water and then, not at all to his surprise, Sela spoke.

  “We do not school past the age of fourteen,” she told him. “We spend two years to live in freedom as we choose, but we must enter an apprenticeship by our sixteenth birthday. It is the law.”

  “Why would you choose to work with a Scroll?”

  “I had no choice. I was not a good child. I have no skills. This is the best I could find.”

  “How long must you do this?”

  “I have been apprentice for nine months. Twenty-one remain.”

  “After that?”

  “I must continue in this profession or start another apprenticeship.”

  “What do you think you’ll decide?”

  “I do not know. The Scroll is an honorable profession.”

  He dipped two fingers in the mash and licked from them.

  “You want to spend your life around these ponds that smell like human waste and pass judgment on filth like me?”

  “It must be done.”

  “But by you, Sela? I had no special skills when I was sixteen. I was on the streets. I learned enough to survive and make my own way. That drew someone’s eye, and he helped me. He allowed me to become the person I was always meant to be. I sacrificed a quiet life for a noble cause. I fought in a great war. I’ve been a soldier, a warrior, and yes, a killer. I have led men and women into battle against incredible odds. I have had two amazing lovers. I know secrets about the universe and what’s on the other side. I’m just getting started, Sela. There is no must in this life. There is only life.”

  He returned to his food, allowing her space to consider his message. She did not respond until he cleaned his plate of all but the last tuber and a finger’s worth of mash.

  “You spin wide tales, Friend. I think it is your arrogance that brought you here.”

  “Maybe, but everything I said is true. I started with nothing ten years ago, and now I am fighting to save a universe.”

  “Now you are back to nothing. Do you mean to impress me?”

  “I’m lying here naked with mites crawling up my body. How am I supposed to impress? But there’s always more, Sela. The Scroll won’t tell you everything about me because he knows very little.”

  “He knows more than you think, Friend. Do not judge him by his appearance or manners. Your Scroll is known across Huryo. He can see into your mind. You are thinking of ways to escape, but it is pointless. Follow the Scroll’s rules. Answer all his questions, no matter how painful. He will never allow you to move forward if you deny him what he demands.”

  She was good. Of that much, Ryllen was sure. She claimed to have no special skills, but Sela had a knack for reading people. This was not necessarily a bad thing.

  “Demands, you say? Sela, when we finished today’s session, Scroll said that starting tomorrow, I would begin reciting all my crimes in order. What is he going to demand?”

  “As he said, all your crimes. In order. The Scroll will demand details. You will describe the faces of your victims. You will describe how each killing was done, and why. You will recount their names. You will describe how you felt afterward. And many other details. You must give all of these, or the process will not move forward.”

  “What happens if I don’t remember names or faces?”

  “You will, Friend. It’s all inside. When the time comes, you will remember. Every prisoner does.”

  “You mean, they make up details to convince the Scroll.”

  “No. He will latch onto deception. Prisoners remember the details because their minds have been conditioned to unravel the past.”

  He didn’t care for that one word.

  “Conditioned? How?”

  She cracked a smile.

  “The great warrior does not see it. Think, Friend.”

  A hard dose of reality slapped Ryllen upside the head. He thought back to those moments when his words of defiance against the Scroll shriveled before they passed his lips, replaced by surrender.

  “It’s in the water and the food,” he told her.

  “Now you see. You cannot outwit the Scroll. I have seen many try, but they only extend the pain. Some have died. The conditioning opens your mind. It sets your memory on fire. You see the past as if it is your present, Friend. You will relive your years as a monster.”

  “Will you be there? What’s the point of being an apprentice if you don’t learn how to interrogate the prisoner?”

  Sela stood and grabbed her bag.

  “I will be at times. The Scroll decides what I am ready to learn.”

  “Good, Sela. I’ll feel better if you’re there.”

  She cracked a wizened smile.

  “You are very arrogant, indeed. Good night, Friend.”

  “Good night, Sela.”

  He licked his plate clean and took a dip in the pond to wash off the mites. OK, so this is going to take time. Fair enough.

  He slept better that night and awoke at sunrise, not long before the Scroll’s mountainous figure appeared. Ryllen slipped into the water before the command and prepared to recite the mantras ten times.

  Scroll plopped onto the stool and groaned.

  Sela did not come.

  14

  Ishuan Town, Huryo

  20 days after the wedding

  H OSHI NEGANI REFUSED TO GO BALD, no matter how much better it made her feel. She had no intention of remaining on this wretched moon much longer. When she arrived nine days earlier, fresh off surviving a nightmare on Artemis Station, Hoshi committed to training for her return to Hokkaido. Her mission, along with other Green Sun agents, was clear: Target Ya-Li Taron and recover the Splinter before he wreaked who-knew what amount of chaos. For a few days, her companions – Mosh Koo-Ti and Muna Fei – had her back. By day five, they shaved off everything.

  “No worries,” Mosh insisted. “We’re not going native. It’s easier this way. When we return home, we won’t be recognized.”

  “You’ll stand out in a different way,” Hoshi told them. “First thing you’ll have to do is buy a wig.”

  “I already know the style,” Muna said. “It will be blue, for sure. My mother hates that color.”

  “What difference does it make? She doesn’t live in Pinchon, and that’s where they’ll be sending us.”

  “Ah,” Muna said with a wistful hint. “The capital city. Always dreamed of going, but my ancestral assholes made like there was no world outside Tono Island.”

  Hoshi got used to Muna’s steady bombardment of all things House of Fei. Though every family had tension, Hoshi thought the Fei nastiness broke all the rules – unless, of course, Muna was ginning up her complaints for the sake of an audience. She attacked her intolerant mother, vulgar aunt, and insidious brothers several times daily.

  “None of us knows Pinchon,” Hoshi told them as they ate dinner together in a hut on the edge of town. “They play by different rules. We have to be ready to fit in. I hope you two are taking this seriously. It’s a dangerous city, and we’re not going to be hunting immos. It’s not like the old days.”

  “It’s better,” said Mosh, wiping his dome with a rag. “We’re hunting the biggest Kohlna there is.”

  “Yes. A Kohlna protected by a whole school of syllaphi. You always talk a big game, Mosh, but what are you going to do when every pistol in the room opens fire on you?”

  “For all the rings, Hoshi. Look what we survived! You had to dig your way out of a dead planet. Me and Muna? We were staring down a particle weapon inside a wormhole. We were goners. Here we be!”

  For Mosh, that was the daily refrain whenever doubt about their mission crept close. In a sense, Hoshi thought, he had a point. None of them should have returned to Huryo alive.

  Mosh and Muna barely escaped a sneak attack on Artemis Station when Scramjet Horn jumped away. Later, Horn’s captain disabled Scylla, the attacking ship, but entered Worm with a particle missile in close pursuit. Though neither understood what allowed them to escape – and their captain, Yusef Matook, remained tight-lipped about it – Mosh and Muna assumed they defied every known law of physics. Hoshi considered herself equally fortunate. The second attack on Artemis destroyed the station, leaving Hoshi and thirteen others to survive a climb to the surface inside a damaged exhaust port and reliant on the Horn to find them, trapped beneath the planet.

  They could have remained with Scylla, venturing out into other star systems to continue the pursuit of Amayas Knight, the Inventor, but the allure of returning home with a specific purpose was too great. They carried less risk than Pinchon-born Green Sun agents who were known to the KumTaan and faced standing death warrants for their alleged role in the Taron wedding massacre.