She had no choice. The test would come when it would come. She had no control over that. She’d have to press on. And hope that the innocent killings would end. That she could find . . . something.
Gathering her strength, Hadjia nodded. “Yes, Kaneko. I can.”
Celty
The sound of distant laughter and the pungent smell of horse manure greeted Celty when she slipped out of a deep, deep sleep.
She surfaced through the layers of her unconsciousness slowly, as if she was paddling gently up and through the water in a lake. Her thoughts rippled around her, as if entities separate from her mind. For a moment, she thought she could reach out and touch them.
Every time she tried, they rippled away.
Celty’s nose had a tickle. Was a blade of grass tickling it? Where might she might be…?
For a long stretch of time, she hovered in a strange in-between. Her body moved, but it too felt separate from her.
A sound, maybe from someone stumbling, penetrated her mind. She cocked her head, listening.
Loud, raucous laughter drifted over to her on the wind and touched on her sensitive ears.
Every word that followed was said with a bit of a lilt.
Drunk, she thought, her thoughts clearing slightly.
Another round of laughter.
Men. More than one. All of them, definitely drunk.
One of the voices grew louder, increasing in volume. A thud thud thud of footsteps joined in with the laughter. A door groaned open, then must have slammed shut.
Seconds later, a whizzing sound….
The pungent scent of urine drifted through the air, and Celty wrinkled her nose.
Disgusting brute.
A man chanted a rowdy song under his breath, alternately singing and belching. Based on the odorous smell of his body – and his urine – not to mention the song he continued to sing, he would be within eyesight.
Celty froze every part of her body, not wanting to even breathe with such a foul person so close.
"Ho. What's this?" Someone spoke in a soft voice with words that were slightly slurred. She tensed.
"Oy! Lads! Come see what present the gods have bestowed on us today."
"You find your lucky star?" called another voice.
"If that's what you call this."
Celty's nostrils flared as she heard two more sets of feet join the first. She knew they were looming over her, and forced herself to exhale slowly, almost imperceptibly. With any luck, they'd think her drunk – or dead – and move on.
But Celty didn't think that would actually happen.
No. She'd always made her own luck in life.
Her eyelashes fluttered of their own accord, although she hadn't opened her eyes yet. One of them laughed, kicking her in the ribs with a pointed shoe.
"Oy there, whore. Get up. It's time for you to get to work."
"Lazy women."
"You're going to work for your keep tonight."
"I like 'em tied up."
"Less work for me, that way."
They chortled together as Celty's blood turned cold.
"My turn, lads. Here. Hold my belt. You know what to do with it if she gets frisky, like that one girl last year."
"Not you! Lemme have her. You had first dibs last time."
The men broke into a brief argument, shoving each other back and. The scuffle of their feet sounded not far from Celty's head, and she kept from flinching away by sheer willpower.
Don't move, she thought. Don't give them a single clue that you’re present and awake.
"Lads, stop. We'll all have her at the same time."
Like drunken idiots, they guffawed, chortling with renewed energy.
The first one stumbled over his feet, crashing into a wall. A bucket full of grains fell, spilling across the floor. Another crouched down near Celty. She smelled the foul yeast on his breath as he lowered close to her.
"Think she tastes like candy?"
"She's a whore. She'll taste like disease before anything else."
"Let's have a try."
Pain tore through Celty's head and neck when one of the men grabbed her hair and jerked her head back.
"Well, well," he murmured. "What a dirty, naughty little slut you must have been."
Celty snapped forward, closing her teeth firmly around the first thing she found. Flesh tore beneath her canines when the man howled and flung himself back and away, shrieking like a bewitched thing.
Blood dripped down her lips as Celty spat a chunk of nose onto the floor.
She opened her eyes; her vision was blurry, but clear enough to spy a waterfall of red pouring down a man’s face. He had stringy black hair and thin lips…and was squealing like a stuck pig.
"She bit me! The whore bit me. Kill her. KILL HER!"
The other two men stared at him in shock, their faces slack.
Celty dug her heels into the dirt floor and attempted to push herself back and away, but the heavy ropes weighed her hands down behind her back.
One of the others, a man with short blond hair that looked as if he'd hacked away at it without a mirror in the middle of the night, straightened suddenly. His rheumy, yellowed eyes stared right at her.
"Time to teach this whore a lesson," he snarled.
Celty tensed, preparing for an onslaught as the two men advanced toward her.
Yet mere seconds later, someone tackled the blond from behind, taking him to the hard packed floor.
Jin!
The man’s head slammed into the ground. He groaned, passing out, as the third grabbed Jin from behind. This man slapped Jin across the face, sending him flying against the wall.
Celty bucked against her manacles just as the blond started to rouse, moaning as if he were about to die. The other man advanced on Jin, swinging a leg back to kick him as hard as he could.
"No!"
The word tore out of Celty's throat. The man stopped, turning back to glare at her over his shoulder. Through the haze of dirt coating both his hair and face, Celty thought she saw umber hair and cool green eyes.
At his side, the first man still was blubbering, blood flowing in between his fingers as he clutched at the wound on his face.
"You gonna tell me what to do, you cannibal whore?" the umber-haired man sneered.
She growled, struggling against the rope. The metal manacles rubbed against her ankle, tearing open a spot.
The blond pushed up from the ground, seemingly a bit disoriented as he glanced around the room. Then he took one glance at Celty and snarled, "Kill her!"
The umber-haired man strode over and back-handed Celty. She flew back, her head dangling on her neck. The man advanced again, and slapped her a second time.
White lights broke out across Celty’s vision, and she became half-conscious.
Shouting filled the space. Celty glanced through bleary eyes to see a posse of men rush the two drunk men. The men stumbled back, hands held high.
Guards from the Hiwan Army.
Celty recognized their uniforms right away, even in her half-conscious state.
They grabbed the two drunk men, forcing them apart. A third guard approached the bleeding man, who still blubbered incoherently into his hands.
While the two drunk men attempted to defend themselves, Celty struggled through waves of darkness threatening to overtake her. Her vision waned, and her heart thudded in her ears.
Slowly, one minute at a time, Celty’s vision cleared. She snapped back to consciousness when she spied Goro running into the stable.
"What happened?" he cried, taking in the three foot soldiers and their leader. "What is this mess? Blood is everywhere. Who are these men? Celty! This is your doing, I know it. Trouble follows you everywhere."
A small voice piped up. "No, Uncle! It was not her. I saw everything."
Jin's young voice was the only sound for what felt like a long stretch of time. Even the guards and Goro quieted to let him talk. He described seeing the three men just before they attempted to rape her, and then her biting the nose off of one.
Celty listened without remorse, measuring the silence with every heartbeat. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth, trickling down the back of her throat.
No doubt her nose was bleeding too; it would be another lovely bruise to add to her collection. Or was it that foul man's blood that she tasted?
Then again, did it matter?
The guard – a lieutenant – motioned to Jin's.
"Your son?"