They were here. Inari sensed the presence of Chen and the badger the moment they set foot in the Celestial Palace, and her spirit grew weak and diffuse with relief. If Seijin noticed, the assassin gave no sign, but strode ahead, still wearing the mask of Mhara.
They had seen no one in their progress through the Palace and Inari could not understand why this should be: Did the Palace have no guards? Heaven was filled with warriors: she had seen that during the war with Hell. She was, for a long moment, tempted to fly back the way she had come, in search of Chen, but when she tried to do so, she found that she was still bound by the assassin's presence.
And then, finally, they encountered the guards.
There were a dozen of them, all running. They wore white and silver armor, ornate and traditional. They looked like Jhai's Celestial bodyguard Miss Qi, with their pale hair, bound into topknots, and their filmy blue eyes. They bowed as soon as they saw Seijin.
"Lord Emperor!"
Seijin waved them up. "No need for that. What is wrong?"
"Don't listen to him!" Inari squeaked. "He isn't the Emperor! He—"
A silvery streak of lightning cut through the air, nearly striking Inari. She heard one of the guards cry, "A demon! See, behind the Emperor!"
"No, wait!" Inari shouted, but her voice was a mouse's voice, here in Heaven's halls, and a moment later the sword struck home. She felt herself split, blasted into a thousand fragments and scattered like ash across the walls and ceiling. The atoms that contained her consciousness heard Seijin say, easily, "Well done, soldier! I commend your swift action. Now, what is amiss?"—and she heard, too, the guard reply, "Someone has broken through the Dowager Empress' apartments, My Lord. Some minutes ago—we set off immediately, but it seems we are too late."
"I must not detain you," Seijin said. "Proceed with your work."
"But Lord Emperor—you are alone, where are your personal bodyguards? I—"
"Do as I tell you!" Seijin snapped.
The guard took a step back and Inari saw the sudden doubt in his eyes. Evidently that was enough for the assassin. Seijin raised a hand, and Inari soundlessly cried out as she felt their bodies ripped apart.
Seijin walked on without looking back, and the atoms of Inari were pulled relentlessly in the assassin's wake. Seijin no longer bothered to speak to her and she wondered, with forlorn hope, whether the assassin had remembered that she was even there.
The beauty of the Celestial Palace continued to be oppressive. Seijin led Inari through rooms lined with diamonds and silk, under ceilings that depicted the night sky in all its wheeling splendor and those that shone like the sun. They passed through a great silent hall lined with war banners: the aristocracies of Heaven, some so ancient that they had become completely translucent, their devices appearing to float in midair, shimmering in the soft light. At first Inari thought this was the throne room, but no: it housed the banners alone, and as she glided past, her spirit beginning to knit back together again, the banners sang their songs of wars fought and wars won, all in the name of rightness. Inari supposed they were entitled, but she found it all a little smug. Yet then again, she was a demon, presumably a wicked thing . . . What if one of the guards had a sharper sword? Would she be blasted apart, an atomic explosion taking the Celestial Palace with her, or would she simply sigh out on the wind between the worlds, with Chen still so close? The guards' reaction to her had proved Seijin right, and Inari did not like that.
"Nearly there," the Lord Lady said over one shoulder and Inari realized that Seijin was still conscious of her presence. Seijin spoke mockingly, the words coming cruel from Mhara's mouth. And in the assassin's hand, Inari glimpsed the sharpness of a razor.
"They're—well, dead for the moment," Chen murmured, straightening up. The badger peered past him.
"What has happened to them?"
"Seijin has happened."
The guards did not look dead as a human would know it, the badger thought. He could still see the life glowing within them, as if turned down like gas on a stove to a low blue flame. But their eyes were open, staring milkily at nothing; their mouths, too, were ajar, and no breath seeped out of them. Their chests both bore the same wound: a ragged, bloody-edged hole that looked as though someone had thrust out their arms on either side, punched through the ribs and stolen their hearts. He could see their lungs, deflated like balloons.
"Unpleasant," Chen remarked, unnecessarily.
"Indeed. And someone is coming."
Hastily, the badger and Chen took refuge behind a curtain. A Celestial warrior raced around the corner, visible through the thin fabric, took one look at what lay upon the floor, and did not hesitate. The sword hissed upward, but Chen stepped out from behind the draperies and raised a hand. The sword was halted in midswing. The badger could see that the warrior was trying to complete the movement, but could not. His blue eyes bulged, his armor creaked. Chen stood, impassive, one hand gently upraised.
"As you can see," he said, "I have been given a small degree of authority and thus must ask your forgiveness for this impertinence."
He must have seen some change in the warrior's face, for the Celestial stepped back as if released from a string and sheathed the sword. "It is I who must apologize. You hold the Emperor's seal."
Looking up, the badger saw a faint blue glow emanating from Chen's palm.
"I am the Emperor's liaison official, with a small and insignificant part of the human realm. My name is Chen. I and my associate have come here in pursuit of an assassin."
The Celestial puffed himself up like a cat. "One such has already been dissipated."
"Dissipated?"
"The spirit of a demon girl was found in one of the passages. We neutralized it; I have sent instructions to one of our magicians to send it to final dispatch, while we track down any further invaders."
"Ah," was all that Chen said. The badger could barely contain himself: he seized Chen's trouser cuff between his teeth and tugged. Chen ignored him. "Where was this demon seen? Who was she with?"
"She was following the Emperor," the Celestial said. "Such creatures are weak; she was no more than a ghost. No doubt she was spying upon the Emperor in an attempt to supply information to her associates."
"Listen to me," Chen said. "In fact, that ghost—demon though she may have been—is my associate. As is this being, who, as you can see, is a spirit of earth."
The Celestial, radiating mortification, bowed very low. "So sorry."
"You were not to know," Chen told him, with what seemed to the badger to be superhuman charity. "Tell me—what did the Emperor say when you 'neutralized' this entity?"
"He was pleased."
The badger grew still.
"I see," Chen said. "You have been most helpful. I must not interrupt you in your work; you will have matters to redress here." He glanced at the bodies of the fallen guards.
"Do you require assistance?" The warrior was clearly keen to rectify his mistake.
"No, I need to find the Emperor," Chen said. "If you could tell me where he is now . . ."
"He was heading for the Great Hall."
"Then we will follow," Chen said, and as soon as he and the badger were around the corner and out of sight, they both broke into a run.
The next time they met someone, Inari took care to keep out of sight, hiding high upon the ceiling and riding the heat. The two they met, however, were clearly courtiers and not warriors: both were women, which meant little, given the equalities of Heaven, but they were wearing elaborate costumes that confined their bodies like a hobble. And it looked to Inari as though their feet had been bound: a practice common to certain strata in both Heaven and Hell. Ironic, Inari thought, that even in her current state, she might be more free than they, though presumably they'd had a choice.
They greeted the Emperor with little tinkling laughs, not something that Inari had ever associated with Mhara. No wonder he spent so much time in Singapore Three. They did not appear to notice that the Emperor responded with a degree of condescension that was surely foreign to the original, unless Mhara adopted a very different persona here in Heaven, and given the reactions to his assumption of the role, Inari did not think that this was too likely. They must be very unobservant, these Celestial maidens. Miss Qi would never have been so slow.
But perhaps not as slow as all that. "My Lord," one of them faltered. A puzzled frown crossed her smooth brow. "We have only just left you, in the Great Hall. Were you called away? I hope all is well?"
"Yes, my dear. I was indeed called, upon urgent business. Do not worry yourself."
"If we may in any way assist your august presence—"
"I will of course ask."
The two courtiers tottered away, twittering like little birds. Inari had always regarded herself as a rather feeble creature, taking fright at all manner of things, but then again, maybe she was wrong. She'd stood up to Seijin, after all. But trying to alert the two courtiers would be useless: they'd probably faint. And what was the Lord Lady planning? Surely the assassin would not make an attempt on Mhara's life in the Great Hall, which sounded like the kind of place where the Emperor would be surrounded by courtiers? Perhaps Seijin had gone completely mad, after all. She cried out—Chen Wei!—but her voice had been stripped away in her fragmenting, and nothing emerged. She thought his name, all the same.
They came to an enormous doorway, perhaps twenty feet in height or more, covered with thick gilt and red lacquer. How Mhara must hate this! Inari thought. Seijin strode up to the guards on the door, who stood rigidly to attention.
"Lord Emperor!"
"I was called away," Seijin said. "I wish to enter."
"Of course, Lord, of course." The fringes of the guard's helmet brushed the floor as he bowed. No! Inari silently screamed, but it was no use, the doors were opening and Seijin walked through.
The next few moments were dreamlike. Inari, hovering futilely near the ceiling, heard the courtiers gasp as the second Emperor appeared, saw Mhara turn upon his throne, saw Seijin raise a blade, watched as that hand expertly flicked out, sending the blade on a spinning trajectory toward the true Emperor, and strike Mhara in the heart.