Chapter III.XXI (3.21) - Keimusho Prison

  Emperor Sasaki’s return to the Hon Empire shocked pretty much everyone except for a few highest members of nobility. Apparently, Sasaki’s existence had been a widespread secret in the upper echelons of society while remaining completely unknown to all others. Even Yamagako’s headmaster was stupefied when they walked out of the academy’s basement with Wan and Sasaki. There had been a mystery about who exactly was the first heir to the throne, but most people theorized it was a bastard son of Honzo’s father, who’d been shushed away and raised in a faraway farm with a specialized education. A relic from the past returning from nearly a century ago had not crossed many people’s minds. Even the most diligent scholars who tracked the linage marked Sasaki as ‘assumed dead’ due to his long spread inactivity. Textbooks taught that he’d gone into the Hon Basin with a faithful companion and never returned.

  The Hon Parliament in particular seemed not enthused about being left out of the big secret. They very publicly called for blood tests, proving that Sasaki was who he said. Which he then readily supplied.

  “They’re all such a pain,” Sasaki complained. A day after his arrival, he’d made a point to introduce himself to everyone in each of the noble branches, and stumbled on Basil while at Aoi’s family’s home. He’d become inseparable from the shapechanger and they often dragged Kizu along with them to the Emperor’s private study. Kizu had no idea why Sasaki wanted him along. He was hardly a good source of information for anything involving modern politics.

  They mostly spent time rambling about all different political problems. Basil acted as a sounding board to the Emperor while Kizu just hung off to the side, regular bored. As far as anyone else outside the room knew, these were supposed to be important meetings to help the Emperor track down his nephew’s killer.

  Basil nodded sympathetically. “They’re notoriously difficult to work with. Everyone says the Hon Parliament is the most inventively stifling group on the planet. You should just take over and create a true dictatorship. Like a real emperor.”

  “Ha! I wish it was that easy. My great great something grandfather set it up. I think it was after his daughter got abducted by hags and they strong-armed him into forfeiting rights over to the people. Supposedly there’s a curse on my bloodline about it. And I am not touching a bloodline curse.”

  That got Kizu’s attention, he glanced over from where he stood off to the side of the study, messing with an enchanted metal cube he’d found on a shelf. That sounded eerily similar to a story he heard from the crone.

  “You don’t say?” Basil asked. “Different from how our professor told it in history class. Something like the Emperor being struck by a moment of genius and complete understanding. He wrote up the draft in the dead of night after awakening from a dream.”

  “Yeah. That’s the official story. But in truth it was a nightmare designed by the witches,” the Emperor said. “From what my grandfather told me, his grandfather never wanted to talk about the exact details.”

  “Interesting,” Kizu muttered. He returned to fiddling with the metal cube. If he understood the puzzle correctly, it should open up and reveal something inside. He figured it was designed to be some sort of training mechanism for the spellsense enhancement spell. But he couldn’t quite make out the code that it required.

  “Ah.” Emperor Sasaki turned his attention to Kizu. “That reminds me. I bumped into your Elite pal at a meeting earlier today. He asked that I remind you to meet with him tomorrow morning. Something about an information gathering session?”

  Kizu grimaced and replaced the cube on the shelf.

  “Yes. I’m going to Keimusho Prison. He wants me to visit someone there.”

  “Friends with a witch there, from what I understand.” He gave a mischievous wink. “You know what they say about witches.…”

  Basil barked a laugh.

  “Not a friend.” Kizu rubbed his eyes. “But he says I’m the only one she’ll talk to. On the destroyed float they found traces of magic similar to some potions seen used by the Hon Basin witch covens. It’s a lead they want explored.”

  He didn’t know how he felt about this yet. A worry gnawed at his ribs and he had trouble sleeping last night. But part of him was…excited. He didn’t understand it. Tomorrow, he would see the crone again.

  Nobody else was allowed to join him. Not Aoi. Not Basil. Definitely not Anata. Even Mort had to remain behind. Maybe the Emperor could join, but as interested in the witches as Sasaki seemed at the moment, he was mostly busy playing catch up on current events. And not so current events. His mind constantly flickered between topics, like an easily distracted puppy. The crone’s interrogation likely wouldn’t even cross the new Emperor’s mind tomorrow.

  Basil redirected the conversation into one about the fashions of Hon nobility over the last three decades and the Emperor laughed along at the ridiculousness of different described outfits. He found the chicken feather bride dress fad particularly amusing. That one came imported from Edgeland, and died after only a couple years. He asked for so many details on the subject that Kizu was a bit worried that he might make some decree requiring the dresses in some capacity. He winced at the thought of Anata catching wind of the horrible things. She’d definitely want to wear one.

  His niece was still with Mae and Kumiho down in the inn. Kizu had snuck out to visit them twice in the last few days, but decided that with all the extra scrutiny on him from the Emperor’s assassination, it was best if Anata stayed out of the nobility’s line of sight. A decision that Kumiho agreed with when he discussed it with her. And, for once, Anata actually did as he said and didn’t follow him. But he thought that likely had more to do with Mae’s friendship than some new-found obedience. Or it might have to do with her happily avoiding Kiiroi. The girl actively hunted him down to pester him about Anata. Her curiosity about his niece was boundless. And Aoi didn’t offer herself as any sort of buffer to her sister. She was now firmly entrenched in necromantic studies, trying to find a way to convert her brother and friend’s souls back to their normal states. With Emperor Sasaki’s blessing, she dedicated every minute of her time to researching any forbidden tomes that she’d managed to salvage up from the royal libraries.

  No. It was just Kizu and Taroe who met the next day. Kizu sat on a bench in a garden out front of Aoi’s family’s mansion. He absently watched a row of ducks swimming in circles in the pond. The little ducklings struggled to keep up with their mama. He wondered if ducks could eat rice. Maybe he’d try sneaking some down to the pond tomorrow.

  “Good. You’re on time.” Taroe scratched his beard and looked around. He seemed to be watching for someone else not yet present.

  Technically, Kizu was early. By about half an hour. But he didn’t point out this fact. Instead, the silence stretched. Taroe also eyed the ducks. Only his look held suspicion and distrust. As if suspecting them to be assassins in disguise.

  “You’ve still been studying with Wakino, correct?”

  “Yes?”

  “Good. What has she taught you?”

  Kizu didn’t know where this was going, but he decided to humor the Elite. He explained the exercises Wakino put him through everyday. With his diluted blood, it was a pain to keep up with her now. His barriers struggled to maintain firm form and even his short jumps were a bit off. But the lessons still rapidly improved his skills and opened his mind to new applications of spells.

  “Hm,” was all the Elite said. No apology about magically crippling his blood for the near future.

  After a few more minutes of duck watching, another man appeared. He wore an Elite uniform, similar to Taroe’s. But his stature was more hunched over and the uniform looked oversized on him. He had red hair with freckles, though his face lacked the scales to mark his heritage as a Tainted. And, by his side was a very large, very fluffy dog. It stood to Kizu’s shoulder, with a white belly, dark gray back, and a slightly curled tail.

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  “Good, Rubin, you’re here,” Taroe said.

  The man nodded.

  “Take us to the prison.”

  The man nodded again. Then he gently laid a hand on his dog and motioned for them to copy him.

  “Hold onto Sharik’s fur,” he instructed them. Only, the man never opened his mouth. Instead, his voice came from the dog’s open maw.

  It took Kizu a moment to process. The man used his familiar as a mouthpiece. He had never even realized that was possible. They must be far beyond the bond between Kizu and Mort. After realizing he was gawking, Kizu grabbed a hold of the dog. A bit too roughly, if the sudden glare from Rubin was anything to go by.

  “Sorry,” Kizu said, slackening his grip. “It’s not often I get to see other familiars. It caught me off guard.”

  “Remain vigilant while in Keimusho,” Rubin said through Sharik.

  “Yes, of course.”

  And then they jumped. A moment later, they stood in front of a very grim iron entryway. Behind it, loomed a large, blocky building of stone decorated only with gray pillars of concrete out front. The ground was completely cobblestone without a blade of grass in sight. It had no windows and showed no signs of life. The only visible entry was a metal door directly down the path in front of them.

  “It’s about time you showed up,” a familiar voice said. “I nearly fell asleep waiting.”

  Kizu’s face split into a grin as Ione walked out from behind the stone pillar. She looked as she always did with her sloppy posture and careless smile. There was a glint in her eye as she caught Kizu’s gaze.

  “Kajima Sene?” Taroe asked. “Did your parents send you as an escort?”

  “Ione,” she corrected him.

  To Kizu, it was obvious just by the way she held herself. But Taroe frowned and furrowed his brow, obviously confused.

  “Kizu’s a pal of mine from the academy. Figured it would be rude to not show him around my parents’ business after he came all this way. Sene’s at home down the street. I think she’s either studying numerology spell formulas or the vast variety of uses of manure in truth potions. Really riveting topics.”

  “Great to see you,” Kizu said. “You’re allowed to enter the prison?”

  “I’ve got the highest clearance you can ask for. But I’ll have to veto any jailbreaks you’ve got planned. You might not mind getting disowned, but I’m not in the mood today.”

  “No one will be escaping today,” Taroe said darkly.

  “That’s what I just said.” Ione rolled her eyes. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

  Ione guided them through the entryway. Prison guards stood watch, carefully watching them as they approached, but they said nothing as the party entered into the prison.

  As they passed through the metal doorway, Kizu felt a wave of antimagic wash over him. His earring burned slightly, but it cooled after a few seconds. After a quick glance over at the enchantments etched into the archway, Kizu was able to recognize a few of the glyphs as complex detectors designed to filter out or break specific enchantments. Or, perhaps it was designed to not break a few specific enchantments. That would likely be easier to control. Regardless, he was able to keep his translation earring in.

  His enchanted ring on his hand burned however. He grasped at it and yanked it off, passing the metal band from hand to hand. It glowed orange as the heat continued to increase in intensity.

  “What’s that?” Taroe asked. He didn’t wait for an explanation. He plucked it out of Kizu’s hand and inspected it, completely unbothered by the burning sensation. “Hm. An expanded storage dimension. Not Wakino’s make, but decent enough quality. Excellent for smuggling contraband in and out. You’ll need to leave this behind.”

  Ione sighed and snatched a tray from on top of a counter. Taroe dumped Kizu’s ring in and they handed the tray off to another guard off to the side.

  Ione’s parents must have loved cubes because the inside of the prison appeared as blocky as the exterior. Everything was made of sharp right angles and harsh corners. The prison wardens stood on elevated blocks, floating over the high hallways and watching them with bored faces as Ione led them on.

  A door caught Kizu’s eye. It kept teleporting around the hallway, as if tracking them as they walked. But it moved erratically, in no clear pattern. More than once it appeared on the floor in front of them, before popping away right before they stepped on it. Kizu tracked it and examined it with his spellsense as they walked, trying to break down the spatial enchantments used to keep it so active.

  “You know that two-headed bear I sometimes summon?” Ione asked as they walked. “We have a real one down below if you go through that door over there. It’s actually quite tame and nearly sentient. But it knows its duty. If someone tries to get out, it launches itself through the door over there and crushes them.”

  “You should not reveal your family’s secrets to outsider’s,” Taroe warned Ione.

  “That’s like the most obvious trap in this hallway with like fifty others. You’re supposed to tell people about some of the traps. It proactively stops breakouts before they happen. Nobody wants a massive two headed bear falling on them from the ceiling.”

  Taroe grunted.

  “Anyway,” Ione continued. “I’ve been trying to get my parents to employ more magical creatures. But they’re both so annoying about it. They always complain about the constant drain in resources and unpredictable nature of monsters. As if they don’t already need to hire an enchanter to patrol through the hallways every few weeks to check on those traps. Even the nonmagical mechanical traps require maintenance. And what scares someone more - a pit of icy spikes or a pit full of giant venomous scorpions?”

  “A trap room like one that fills with water, drowning the victims?” Kizu asked dryly. “I recall someone not handling the stress well.”

  “That’s different,” Ione huffed. “I mean, you weren’t all that scared. That just happened to target a particular weakness of mine. And besides, it also had undead piranhas trying to eat us. Even if it is necromancy, I still count it as a magical creature adjacent.”

  Kizu wondered if Ione’s family would start using necromancy to help defend the prison if Sasaki’s new decree actually went through and legalized the practice. Based on what he’d seen of the skeletons on Owl’s Respite, it sounded like a better financial decision than the magical creatures Ione suggested.

  Ione continued to chat about the monsters as they walked. She was surprisingly cheery as she talked. Which contrasted with the bleak walls and grim guards silently watching them.

  “Okay,” Ione said as they reached a stone cube protruding from the floor. “This is the block where the witch is being kept. I’ve never been down there since she arrived. In fact, I never knew she was here until last week.”

  She touched the corner of the cube with two fingers then rapidly drew a pattern across its surface. The cube fell in on itself, revealing a chute in the floor.

  Taroe took a step forward and dropped down the chute without a second thought. Kizu looked over at Ione and the other Elite.

  “We will stand guard,” Rubin said through Sharik. “It would be a tight fit.”

  Kizu leaned forward, looking down into the darkness below. The hole revealed nothing below.

  “Whoops.”

  Kizu felt two hands shove him forward and then he was falling head first. He panicked and tried to grab ahold of the chute’s walls to slow his fall or at least turn himself so his feet were under himself, but the chute was slick with an oily substance. He looked up just in time to see Ione grinning down at him from above before she leaped into the chute after him.

  The fall ended abruptly. Kizu’s face speared into a gelatinous substance, before it dissolved and gently pressed him forward. He lay on the floor. A moment later, Ione landed directly behind him. She took his hand and helped him back up to his feet.

  “Sorry,” she said, actually looking a bit abashed. “I didn’t realize you’d fall head first. You need to be less top heavy.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” He was not about to forget this. Already his mind spun with ideas for vengeance. But they faded as he took in his surroundings.

  They stood in a well lit white hallway. Images of people were imprinted on different large rectangular blocks set in the wall. Each depicted a different prisoner. Even without the obvious setting, Kizu would know these people were criminals simply by their appearances. They weren’t just static images, but they instead showed the person in the act of a heinous crime.

  Kizu watched in horror as a thin man missing a nose dismantled a still alive gnome and attempted to reassemble him with prosthetics. He looked away but his eyes fell on a large woman walking down a street, blasting civilians into gunk with a wand.

  Then he saw her. The image of the crone sat on a log eating a hunk of charred meat. She silently hummed to herself as she bit into it. It was unassuming if you didn’t understand who the flesh belonged to. The leg of a fellow human. But her crime didn’t bother him quite as much as the others he’d seen. No. It was just the image of her. He felt a mesh of emotions bubble up in him as he watched her. Resentment, nervousness, insecurity, hatred. And also a bead of excitement. A part of him didn’t believe she was actually right through that wall. It felt impossible.

  Taroe examined him closely.

  “I don’t like this,” he said. “But no matter the interrogation method, the crone won’t speak to anyone other than you. Do your best to keep your wits about you. Focus on extracting information about the assassination. Don’t let her dance around topics. Watch for misleading responses. She’s a trickster who’s survived by deception and ruthlessness.”

  “I know,” Kizu said. And he did. He knew the crone better than anyone else. But he wondered how much that really added up. Despite the decade living with her, she still remained an enigma in many ways. He had a few of his own questions for her.

  Kizu closed his eyes and tried to steady his breathing.

  “I’m ready. Let’s ask our questions.”

  Ten Blood Curse Academia chapters (5 weeks) ahead of Royal Road.