The First Binding, page 50
That meant giving up the life I’d come to know. To leave behind the sparrows. And to wipe away my worry for their lives after my departure.
A slew of fears seized me, turning all my warmth to a bundle of cold and agitated snakes writhing inside me.
What happened if the sparrows couldn’t manage without me? Surely I’d done a good enough job teaching them what they needed to survive on their own. They had the wealth already and the means. What would happen if Koli somehow returned in my absence? Or Nisha? And my mind went on and on, looking for any excuse, any worry to keep me rooted in the safe existence I’d cultivated.
I’d fallen into this trap right after Mithu’s death. And fear knows all too well how to keep you stuck in a place that will be the slow death of you. It’s like a pit of quicksand. The frantic motions of thoughts, all promising some salvation or reason, will really be the death of you. Only in the stillness of the moment can you find the way out.
It was then I learned one of the saddest things in life is to forget what gives us breath. We get caught in the madness of life. We begin to bury our finest impulses and desires. And with them, each man kills the thing he loves.
Slowly, with timid choices and bitter rue. An old but potent poison, well tested and long true. It’s never a dive or with one fell fall that we jump to kill our joys—one and all.
But bit by bit. We chip away at all that makes us whole. Till time and tide take their toll. And leave us weary worn and tattered torn.
I would not have it.
I’d rekindle my flame with what Mahrab taught me. With unbent will and rawest grit. I’d reclaim what I’d lost. Bit. By. Bit.
The thought fueled the fire I’d grown to lack of late, and I clung to that heat and all the clarity and strength it brought me.
I knew what I had to do as I headed back to the house of sparrows.
The journey north required supplies, and that meant hefty coin to spare without depleting the sparrow treasury. And whatever I could do to leave behind extra money would only aid my family after I left.
I needed to make a plan.
I had a merchant king to rob.
FORTY-FOUR
HIGH QUARTER STAKES
I found little sleep that night. All my mind’s doors showed me the possibilities of another life. And I wanted them. My remaining thoughts all turned toward how to go about stealing every piece of precious wealth this visiting desert merchant had brought. But first I’d need to find out more about him.
The morning of Kindling Day greeted me after a shoddy rest. My stomach had no room for food, so I turned Small Kaya’s routine visit away.
I met the morning group of sparrows in our customary ring. Juggi and Nika stood where they always did, close by my side and in position to address either half of the circle of birds.
A few of the sparrows shuffled in place, casting nervous looks to one another. No matter how many times we’d done this, a new day always brought another set of challenges and worries with it. It was the way of things.
“Today’s not a listening, clutching, or secret-selling day.” I let the words hang in the air for a moment.
The sparrows traded looks again, but kept their mutterings to themselves this time.
Juggi and Nika tilted their heads almost in perfect unison. My comment had gotten their attention and they wanted answers.
“Every sparrow today is going to take turns rotating through the High Quarter. Everyone is taking notes, and everyone will bring them back to Nika, Juggi, or myself to go over. Everything you see. Anything you hear. Nothing is worth ignoring. It comes across your way, you record it. Ji?”
“Ji.” The single word echoed back under the voice of every sparrow, filling the cavernous room.
“The second run of sparrows will do the same. Every sparrow goes out, and every sparrow picks up something of the High Quarter.” I turned to face Juggi and Nika. “But I have a special job for the night crew. Kaesha will take them out to learn about a specific spot and person.”
The pair gave me a look that made it clear they had more questions, but they wouldn’t ask them in front of the rest of our family. Those would be kept for later.
The sparrows dispersed, stopping by the entry at a table nearly as long as three of us length-to-length. Stacks of scrap paper, pilfered, bought, and found, littered the surface. Every sparrow grabbed a page and broken bits of charcoal we’d taken care to whittle into usable shapes to write with. They left our hands blackened in places, but that only added to the guise of a sparrow when needed.
Once they’d left, Nika and Juggi cornered me on the way back to the second floor.
Juggi placed a hand on my shoulder and stopped me from going up the stairs. “What was that about?”
I told them of Kaesha’s information and the desert trader king.
“And you want to rob him?” Juggi took two steps, like he could back away from the idea altogether if he put some distance between us.
“He’s right, Ari.” Nika placed a hand on Juggi’s back to keep him from moving farther from us. “We barely ever get within range of the High Quarter walls to smell the air there. If we go in, people will notice.”
I stared at her hard. “No. No they won’t. Why? Because people don’t want to notice us. Sparrows and Sullied and the like. We’ll be thrown charity loaves by the rich wanting to appear godly. Thrown a copper, maybe an iron, by someone as if it were nothing but a chip to them. But mostly, we’ll be ignored. Because those people don’t want to see us. Don’t want to acknowledge we exist. That this world exists in their empire. We’ll be as good as ghosts. And we all know it.”
Juggi and Nika frowned, and the former came closer to me. “What’s this about? Just because Kaesha’s got a lead on good coin … it’s not worth this, is it?”
How to tell them I wanted to do it for them? That I could fund my journey north, resume the life I was meant to live, and leave them well enough off without me? That I meant to leave them and all without a word. I couldn’t do that last part—tell them.
It was as much for them as it was for me, in truth.
“It’s the kind of coin that could change our lives forever. A merchant trader of that background here on business won’t be carrying a chest of tin and copper. It’ll be silver and gold.” I saw the effect my words had on them the second I finished speaking.
Both of their eyes widened, and I could see their minds tip to tallying the sums of what that much money meant.
“If we do this right, and the pay is there, the sparrows will never have to work again. We could buy you an appointment in court, Nika, or a ministry. You too, Juggi. We could get sparrows into the temples. We could run bigger games and trade and sell things larger than we ever thought.” My heart twisted as my tongue went on, feeding them ideas I knew to be lies all. “But the sparrows could be free from even this life.” And I knew that bit to be true, at least.
“I know it’s a risk, but…”
Juggi stepped into the pause. “And if it goes wrong, we’ll pay a steeper price than gold, Ari. Do you know how they punish people in the High Quarter for stealing? Do you know how these desert traders do?”
I did, but I knew Juggi would say it nonetheless.
“They take a hand, Ari. A hand!” He raised one of his own to accentuate the point. “I don’t know about you, but I need my good right hand.”
Nika snorted. “And we don’t need to know for what, Juggi. So stop there. Do what no girl’s willing to for you on your own time and away from our ears and eyes.”
Juggi flushed a color I didn’t think possible for someone of his complexion.
And I’d say I did the same, but in truth, it was a rather hot day. The heat in my face must have come from there and nowhere else.
Thankfully, Nika saved me from the embarrassment of the moment. “Juggi’s right, though. And there’s worse. Even if you go for this job, getting caught by the kuthri there will be just as bad. Maybe more.”
I arched a brow, waiting for her to explain.
“They don’t cut off hands, but they will whip you.”
As far as punishments go, it wasn’t that bad. Though, I had no desire to be whipped. My feelings must have shown on my face, because Nika shook her head.
“That’s not all they do. Your hands will be branded.”
I hadn’t heard of that particular punishment. In truth, it might have slipped my mind during my time in Keshum as I didn’t pay attention to all information that came my way. Many times I focused entirely too much on how to make a safe and quick profit for the sparrows. The severity of punishments in the High Quarter didn’t come into account.
“You know what that means. No trading anywhere along the Golden Road. You’ll be a thief and outcast. No lodgings at any place loyal to anyone in power to enforce the brand mark, Ari. No vittles. If you ever want to travel one day along the road and the paths it goes to, you can’t. All passes taken. All ways blocked.” Nika leaned forward and placed her lips against mine, keeping them there for a length of time I truly lost count of, but which I sorely wished went on forever. Finally, she broke the embrace.
I would be lying if I said my mind remained solely on the gravity of all she said. The risks and danger. But no. I had no space in my mind or any of the folds for anything other than the soft lightning-like sensation flooding my body. It came as quickly as that. And it left just as soon.
Shame.
“Please, Ari. If you do this and you’re caught, it’ll be the end of your life as a sparrow.”
I exhaled. Little did she know it was coming to an end no matter what. I flashed her my best practiced grin, a thing meant to hide uncertainty and carry all the guile I could. “Then I better not get caught.”
FORTY-FIVE
A LOOK MYSELF
One day of sparrows passing through the High Quarter quickly turned into three. Then a set. Soon enough, I almost knew the turns of the smooth stone walls and alley paths like I’d been born and raised there myself.
Almost.
But all the notes and secrets in the world cannot paint a picture as well as seeing things for yourself. So, comfortable that I had a good enough understanding of the quarter to make my own way through it, I outfitted myself for the foray.
The sparrows and I had built our trove of treasure well enough over our run of the house and daily efforts. Not to mention the money still left over from Mithu’s reign. It left me a sum I could spend without fear on clothing that would better help me pass through the quarter without drawing too many eyes.
A cut too fine and I could be mistaken for someone worthy enough to bother lingering a gaze upon. Shoddy, shabby, stitched together, and I’d be overlooked with practiced ease right up until I needed to get into a place where the Sullied and poor are noticed with extreme prejudice. And acted upon.
Before that, however, I needed to bathe and scrub myself raw. The sparrow’s life allowed for a certain amount of scruff and grime on our person. But for this, I needed to look like I’d never done a hard day’s work with my body.
I went to the lone stone pit that Mithu had fashioned long ago for himself and sparrows to use on occasion to keep us from becoming dirty enough to risk falling ill. A small nook near the pit held enough room for a fire to burn long and low enough to heat the stone and water inside. I went through the tedium of stoking the flames to life and waiting. Sadly, I had little time to enjoy the bath itself, making it a cold affair.
The first thing I chose to wear had come off the back of a traveling trader’s cart. A once-white silk shirt with threads to bind it tight to the wearer and flatter their form, should they have one worthy of that. While the top had come free to us, I’d taken the liberty of spending nearly a dozen chips having it dyed a suitable burgundy that matched some wines. Any brighter a red or purple and it would cross into noticeably extravagant. The poor and well-to-do didn’t wear colors like that. The stark vibrancy drew eyes, made a show of wealth, and required the latter to keep clean in a world where road dust inevitably found its way to your clothing.
I paired the shirt with a set of loose and baggy pants of the same material and color, hoping the outfit’s uniformity would help me passably blend as well. Then came the one article that gave me pause.
Shoes.
In my life in the theater, then as a sparrow under Mithu, I never owned a pair or had need of them. Years had turned my feet into calloused leather that could bear the heat of burning stone and walk over brick and almost glass. Shoes made your feet soft, they kept you from feeling the turn of the earth and land beneath you. And that meant clumsier footwork.
I stifled a mounting sigh and fetched the pair we’d purchased. They were simple in shape and form, fitting me perfectly. I’d made sure they lacked any superfluous adornment and that they were a dull but unmarred black. No lacing to keep them fastened firmly, that coming by way of their slip-on fit. It would make them just as easy to remove had I need.
Though I certainly hoped I wouldn’t.
The last piece of clothing served more purpose than the rest. A thin and light scarf to drape over my shoulders, which could wrap around the top of my head and my mouth if necessary. A common-enough thing when walking some streets to protect oneself from certain smells, a few bothersome airborne spices, and dust.
But it would ensure I could keep my face from being memorized by anyone taking a longer look at me than I liked.
Juggi and Nika met me downstairs, looking me over. “I can’t tell you apart from the high-stuffed and wrapped people born in the High Quarter,” said Juggi. He ran a thumb and forefinger along his chin, still in thought. “You sure you’re going to come back after passing for some Brahmthin? You look as high-casted as they come.”
I rolled my eyes, but didn’t trust myself to speak entirely. Because, no, I would not be coming back after a fashion. Even if I returned today, it would be a temporary stay.
“Nika?” I turned to face her, stretching my arms out wide and turning in place to give her a better look.
“Juggi had it right. You look like you belong. And you can talk your way like them, so you should be fine.” Her words came clipped and cold. She still held to the reservation this was a bad idea and wanted me to take no part in it. If she had her way, we’d still be peddling secrets and never think to rob a soul.
In truth, had I listened to her then, I wouldn’t come to be here now. Maybe she had it right. But I didn’t see it that way then.
I ignored the coolness in her voice and took her at her word only. “Good. I should be able to get a better understanding of my way through the quarter today. With that, I should be able to work out how to get to the merchant’s residence and take what we need.”
Juggi spat to one side and fixed me with a dubious look. “It won’t be easy to just get out with silver and gold. Especially with how much someone like him will have. It could be a chest, Ari. A chest!”
I smiled and waved a hand dismissively. “That’s why we have money of our own. We bribe the right folk. Not the ones on the way in, that’s too dangerous. But a couple of thuulis won’t ask any questions about hauling a load, no matter how heavy, and no matter how it looks. They lift, carry, and deliver. It’s the life they lead. And all we have to do is pay them enough to not ask questions, and to not stop and try to look at what’s being carried.”
Juggi rolled his eyes at that, giving Nika a sidelong look that spoke volumes. “Oh, that’s all, hm? Easy as that?”
I kept my smile. “Easy as that.” I turned the scarf around my neck just once, leaving enough slack for me to pull it up over my mouth should I need. “Make sure no sparrows come through that way today. If I get into trouble, I don’t want any of the family getting mixed into it.”
Both of them nodded and traded a worried look with one another.
“I’ll be fine.” I still held my beaming expression, wondering how well of an actor I’d grown to be over my time as a sparrow. Not well enough to fool the two people who’d come to know me the best, but enough to clearly bother them at how good a smile I could fake.
It boded well for my jaunt into the High Quarter.
Some masks hide us from our loved ones. Others keep us safe from the world.
I hoped mine would live up to the latter.
* * *
My ass ached after a third of a candlemark, by guess, jostling around in the seat of the rickshaw. I gave silent thanks the wooden seat had at least been sanded smooth to not send a splinter deep into my bottom. It wouldn’t have been a problem had the runner bothered with a cushion to spare passengers, but I knew the lives men of his sort led. And even the extra coin to invest into his work could come at the cost of a meal or two.
A serious strain, and doubly so if he had family.
So, I gritted my teeth, half in part to bear the pain, and half to keep them from shaking loose over the bouncing journey.
I would have preferred to walk into the quarter, but that long a jaunt would have easily sullied my clothing. And I had neither the means nor time to have them cleaned quick enough to be serviceable. At least not without spending more coin than I cared to.
Just when I thought I couldn’t tolerate the ride any longer, relief.
“Here, sahm.” The runner slowed to a halt, gesturing with both a bow of his head and wave of an arm toward the open gates into the High Quarter.
Pink and white marble made up two columns standing on either side of the gate. The metal barring the way hadn’t been fixed to the glossy stone. It held instead to heavy pillars of more serviceable and enduring iron fixed behind the ornate obelisks. One set for show, the other to keep out those undesirables come the night.
I thanked the driver and pulled free my purse, reaching inside to fetch five tin chips. The journey in truth cost no more than two. And someone of my cut and cloth could have easily lobbed the poor man a lone chip and called him lucky to get that much after such a rough ride.
