“… That is not my name.”
Kensai peered at the boy in the doorway, thin and pale and blurred, eyes sunken in gray hollows. Wrapped in bandages, shoulders slumped, pupils dilated. If he did not know better …
“Forgive me, Kin-san. Old habits perish reluctantly. As do you, it seems.”
“You keep calling me by my father’s name.”
“It is your name. Given when your father died. An honorable son—”
“Would wear it with pride. I know.”
“But you are not an honorable son, are you? You are a cur who betrayed his family for the love of an impure whore. If Kioshi could see you now…”
“I did not come here to fight with you, Uncle.”
“Why then? To caper? To crow?”
“To tell you the truth.”
“You know not the meaning of the word.”
“I know I warned you not to trust the Inquisition.”
“You did come to gloat, then.”
“The deadlands, Uncle. The deadlands we helped create. Planting lotus in every corner of this land. Poisoning the soil, splitting it wide. Watered with innocent blood. All part of the Inquisition’s plan. First Bloom also. We were deceived, all of us.”
“It is you who—”
“The Guild was founded by the survivors of the Serpent clan. All of us—you, me, the Inquisition—we are of Serpent blood. But only the inner circle knew the full truth. Did you not wonder why you were never brought fully into Tojo’s trust?”
Kin shook his head, ran one bandaged hand over his eyes.
“They were disciples of Lady Izanami, Uncle. As our ancestors were. Determined to bring about the rise of the Endsinger and the death of this world.”
“Are you crazed, boy?” Kensai spat. “Serpents and Dark Mothers?”
Kin turned, nodded to someone beyond the door. “Come in.”
Two men with close-cropped hair and bayonet fixtures at their wrists entered the room, dragging a body between them. A third followed, carrying a stained hessian bag. The men lay the corpse on the carpet, placed the stained bag by the boy’s feet. Each favored Kensai with a poisoned stare as they left.
The corpse was reasonably fresh, parts of it crushed to pulp. Kensai could see its skin was the gray of a smoke addict.
“You bring a lotusfiend’s corpse in here to frighten me?” Kensai sniffed. “If this is a threat, it falls far short of the mark, boy.”
Kin leaned down with a wince, tore the corpse’s uwagi away. Kensai saw its chest was dotted with the bayonet fixtures for mechabacus input. Trailing down its battered right arm was a beautiful tattoo, coiled and deadly—a serpent inked into the gray chalk of its flesh.
“This is the corpse of an Inquisitor captured in the fall of Chapterhouse Yama. The Kitsune burned the corpses of two more after the schism. All marked with this same irezumi. Serpent clan. Servants of Lady Izanami. All of them, Uncle.”
“One corpse does not a legion make.”
Kin reached down to the hessian bag, upturned it with a flourish. A severed head rolled across the carpet, upside down and grinning. Skin of midnight blue, a serrated freakshow grin, rusted iron rings through its broad, flat nose and pointed ears. Kensai had seen the same visage on the faceguards of every Iron Samurai in the Shima legions. A demon of the deep hells.
“Oni…” he whispered.
“With the drama aboard the Earthcrusher, you would have missed it, but this monster crawled from the Kitsune deadlands, along with a dozen of its fellows. Each put down by the Impure whore you so despise. The cracks tore wide when First House exploded, the Stain tearing wider still. Only the gods know what crawls now from the pit.”
Kensai stared at the demon’s head, saying nothing.
“We have been raised on a lie, Uncle. Every moment of your life has been a lie. Purity. The Guild. Skin is strong, flesh is weak. All a ploy to bring the Endsinger back to Shima.”
Kensai frowned, shaking his head. “My vision…”
“The What Will Be?” Kin sighed. “I don’t know. I think there is a kind of truth to be found in the Chamber of Smoke. I think those who saw too far, who saw what would come at the end of all this—they were the ones who went mad during the Awakening. The ones the Inquisition would boil in the vats before they could speak of what they’d seen.”
“This is not possible…”
“You heard Her, Uncle. I know you did. Shinji told me all about it. Echoing inside anyone who wore a mechabacus when the Yomi gate opened. She sang to you, didn’t she? And now in the place where the dreams of your Awakening used to be, you can only hear Her.”
Horror in his heart. In his eyes. Reflected in Kin’s own.
“You were born to the lie, Uncle.” The boy’s eyes were pleading. “You can’t blame yourself for believing. But now you have a chance to right the Guild’s wrongs. Help me.”
“… Help you?” Kensai whispered.