The First Binding, page 96
And of course, he decided he had no desire to rest and would rather race across the floor, which sent all of my strings into a tangle and into the air.
“No!” I lunged, grabbing the kitten and slowly unraveling the mess of strings, taking care that they didn’t cut into his flesh. “Brahm’s tits and ashes, Shola, you’re more likely to kill me than the Nagh if you keep like this.” I freed him from his self-inflicted bondage and set him into his bed, refusing his struggles for freedom until he decided that, yes, he would rather like a good sleep.
Merciful gods above.
EIGHTY-EIGHT
THINGS TO TELL
Early next morning Shola informed me of his need to return to the rooftop, so I obliged him before even having my wits set straight. I may have bemoaned being up at that time, but he didn’t give me much choice. He finished his jaunt and came back within a few minutes. Then he decided to avail himself of another nap.
I left him to it, fetching my bag and supplies, grabbing my staff as well as I headed to my classes.
A burly student spotted me heading toward Rishi Vruk’s philosophy class. He had the thick neck muscles, broad shoulders, and wide back that screamed of him being one of Master Conditioner’s wrestlers. The fact these were visible under the thin robe he’d chosen to wear only spoke more of the student’s considerable bulk. So, when he placed a hand on my chest to stop me, I didn’t give him the sharp side of my tongue.
“Rishi Vruk isn’t here right now and he didn’t leave a thaina behind to cover for him.”
That gave me pause. I hadn’t known he’d left, and the idea of not leaving a left hand to continue his lectures was odder still. “Why haven’t any of the other rishis stepped in?”
The student shrugged, running a hand through his short-cropped hair. “He’s been gone for nearly a set and left instructions that his classes were suspended—no work. Only instructions for assistants to revise lesson plans he did up for his return.”
“Are you one of his then?”
He nodded.
I frowned, having wanted to see my friend and tell him everything that had happened in Ampur. If anyone would have believed me, no matter how ridiculous the story, it would have been Vathin. Even if the story strained credulity, he would have at least listened without judgment. “Thank you.” I walked away since I knew I hadn’t missed anything and therefore had no work to catch up on.
My next visit led me to Rishi Ibrahm, who had just finished up an Introduction to Binding Principles lesson.
He saw me and flashed a toothy grin. Whatever tiredness hung in his eyes a moment earlier vanished, and all I saw was the manic bright gleam of mischief.
It set me on edge and I approached slower. “Rishi?”
“Last time I checked, Accepted Ari. Why, was that a question?”
I didn’t give him the satisfaction of glowering, keeping my expression painfully neutral. “I came to see what I missed while on my leave of absence, Master Binder. I’d like to make up any—”
He snorted. “You didn’t miss much here. More students are full of dust and dreams between their ears, thinking to be like legends and binders of old. Tch. I bet you half of them couldn’t piss in the dark without a candle to help them figure out how. But”—he waved a hand dismissing the topic—“what might you have need of in this class, hm?”
I tried to answer but he gave me no chance.
“And he brought down the mountain … llloooooow!” Rishi Ibrahm’s voice had none of the smoothness, vibrancy, and depth of Radi’s. When he sang, I almost wished the mountain fall had deafened me.
And I told him so.
“Tch. Singing’s not my gift. If I ever have a son of myself, may that be his. Now, little binder, tell me of the mountain.”
I licked my lips, almost answering before I realized he shouldn’t have known about that so soon. “How did you…” I trailed off, of course. “The song. Where did you hear it? We’ve only been back a day.”
“Radi played it in Stones last night. Boy had a decent turnout. I wouldn’t be surprised if the story’s caught a good spark by now. It will fan into a fire soon enough. Catchy tune. Parts of it anyway.” Rishi Ibrahm tugged his ear.
“Stones?” I knew how stupid my question sounded, but I hadn’t heard of the place yet.
“Mhm.” He nodded. “There’s a section of the catacombs beneath the Ashram all of black stone, smooth as glass. Wonderful sounds down there. A man with a cracking voice could sing and sound all the sweeter than he could aboveground. For someone like Radi, it’s close to a magical place. Students go down there for all the young and wrong reasons: to cavort away from masters’ eyes, for the thrill of going where it is forbidden, as well as for music and drinking.” He rolled his eyes. “As if we don’t know students do all that. The nature of children, I suppose.” He shrugged.
“Wait … that means you had to have been there to hear him play, though.”
He grinned. “Of course. I’m a proponent of the arts, even if I don’t have a touch of talent for them. Do you know how hard I’ve tried to get a Master Rhythmist position made at the Ashram? There is a secret rhythm to all things, and musicians and storytellers have it. They need that nurturing from an expert. Besides, if those arts were better catered to, I’d likely have less of you airheaded simpering idiots chasing my hems to learn binding. The world would be a better place … for me.” He let out a forlorn sigh and slumped a little.
Rishi Ibrahm then moved to take a seat, gesturing at me to stand at the other side of his table.
I did, waiting.
“So, out with it. What happened? I heard the song. A binding, hm? Linear. Figure it out yet?”
I nodded, not wholly trusting myself to speak. I had known the pieces of it all along when I looked back through my memories, but I hadn’t performed it. Still, this felt like a test—a chance to show the Master Binder I was ready. “As above, so below. First part of the paired binding is tak. The second is roh. They link two vertically opposed points in space.” I gestured above myself, then to a spot on the ground.
“Like if someone throws a rock over a student’s head that should by all rights sail over it. Mutter the binding and impose your will—have the faith—and you can command it to move against its nature to strike the student’s head.”
He smiled, lacing his fingers together and resting his chin on the steeple they formed. “Well, well. Good job. Seems you don’t need me at all then, hm?” Something about his crooked smile and the new light in his eyes told me I was playing a dangerous game now.
“I wouldn’t say that.” I kept my voice as nonchalant as possible. “I’d like to learn better control, not to mention the other bindings.”
“Oh-ho. But you slayed the mighty Nagh, didn’t you? Most go their entire lives without ever even hearing a peep about a beast like that, and I can’t recall the last time anyone’s been heard to have seen one. But killing one?”
“You don’t seem to have a hard time believing that, Rishi.” I didn’t frown, but I did eye him sideways, unsure why he’d taken so quickly to the story without seeing a shred of proof.
“Hm? Oh, no. I popped over to Ampur with a pair of bindings to see the place myself. I had no idea that’s where I sent that piece of the Crow’s Nest. Odd bit of luck that, no?” He laughed as if he’d told a particularly funny joke.
I didn’t think it was.
“Though, honestly, bringing down the whole mountain was reckless. You’re lucky you survived. And, I suppose the serpent’s body will be a boon to the survivors that go back to rebuild. It’s worth a good deal, and I know menders across the Empire will pay a pretty sum for its parts. And Master Artisan might give an arm and a leg, possibly more, to get its scales and teeth.” He gave me an appreciative nod. “Good work.”
I said nothing and remained as still as possible, not wanting to betray the discomfort I felt at the praise I knew I didn’t deserve. “So, will you teach me?”
He burst into laughter. “What? Oh, no. Ari, you were terribly stupid there. Triggering an avalanche to bury a creature regarded by some as an old god. Reckless—tch. Not showing the good judgment yet I’ve hoped for. What happens if you lose control of a binding like that? Will you bring down the Crow’s Nest on the heads of everyone in it? Play with fire, you get burned. Will you set the Ashram ablaze and burn us to ash and cinder?” He wagged a finger in admonishment.
“No, you’re not ready. Maybe you’ll never be.” Rishi Ibrahm made a shooing motion with one hand. “Pay another visit to the Crow’s Nest if you’ve forgotten the lesson from earlier.” Something went hard in his voice. Hard as cold iron, and brittle as sheet ice. “Remember the costs, and that whatever you may think of me, I will not let such a fate fall on anyone ever again. Even you.”
I swallowed when his eyes turned hot and lost all touches of their whimsical mischief. The childlike instructor vanished, replaced by someone older, tired, and who had an anger I didn’t want to see. I nodded and left without another word, deciding still to take his advice to visit the Crow’s Nest. Though, I had my own reasons for it.
* * *
I stepped through the doors of the Crow’s Nest, greeting Krisham as he lounged across the desk.
He jumped to his feet, pointing a wooden rod at me like a sword. “Hold, demon—twisted turned and monstrous thing. I bar the way, and you shall not pass!”
I blinked, raising both hands in a mixture of defense and to hopefully put him at his ease. “Whoa, Krisham. It’s me, Ari.”
“You sound so sure, but I am not Krisham. You stand before Sheru. So stand all the firmer and be ready.” He let out a shrill scream, leaping off the desk and bringing the wooden stick down to where I’d been standing a moment earlier. It clacked hard, almost loud enough I wondered if he’d cracked the stone ground.
“Brahm’s tits, Krisham!” I staggered farther away, lashing out with my own staff, but not aiming to hit him with it. The strike had the intended effect, driving him back. Though, I’d forgotten one dangerous detail about the once-student.
“Stay for wyr, and travel ehr!”
What?
At his command a film of prismatic light pooled between us. It grew transparent and reflected a figure, dressed in robes and a cloak that looked familiar. Only, I stared at the figure’s back.
Krisham stepped into the prismatic way and vanished, collapsing in his wake.
“Now fall!” His voice came from behind me.
I didn’t turn in time as his makeshift sword struck the back of my legs, taking the world out from under me and sending me hard to the ground. The air left my lungs. Everything spun. And for a moment, I sorely did wish I could bring the Crow’s Nest down on the burned idiot’s head.
Krisham pointed the rod at my face, blinking hard and shaking his head. “You’re that student Rishi Brahm brought here not so long ago. Ari?”
I said yes, though it may have come out more an incoherent and pained wheeze. And I saw no point to correct his misspeaking of the Master Binder’s name.
“Well, why are you on the floor? That is a terrible place to sleep. Trust me, I know.”
I glowered, which took all the effort I could muster. “Well, it’s sort of where one ends up after having their legs swept out from under them.”
He looked at me as if I didn’t make sense. “Why would your legs give out like that? If you’re sick, you should see Master Mender.”
I stared at him harder, finally catching the subtle shifts in how he spoke. He’d lost the harshness of voice, the loudness, and now spoke near a gentle whisper—distant. “Krisham?”
“Obviously.” He offered me a hand and helped me to my feet. “Wait, was I someone else?” He looked down to the wooden stick in his hand. “Oh. Sheru showed up, didn’t he?” Krisham chuckled. “He’s problematic, that one.”
I’ll say. I didn’t see a point in trying to antagonize Krisham, though. I dusted myself off instead and saw an opportunity to ask about something more important. “Krisham, why is it that you have other people in your head?” I kept my voice neutral and filled only with honest curiosity, hoping my hunger for knowledge of the bindings didn’t seep into it.
“Hm? Oh, that. Well, it’s kind of hard to do some things, you know? So, you get other people to help you out. I can’t do all the work by myself, so I thought, well, who could? Some of the heroes out of stories certainly! So, I asked them. Eventually they showed up in here”—he rapped a fist to the side of his head—“and decided to stay. Binding’s been pretty easy after that.” He grinned. “Though, sometimes they get pushy and take up more space in my head than they should.”
They. Plural. I didn’t know what to say to that, and had no desire to appear insensitive to his state, so I swallowed my tongue and nodded.
“And did they teach you the bindings and how to go about them?” I still kept my tone as level as I could.
“They did.”
“And what did they teach you exactly, Krisham?”
He whirled around, tapping the tip of the wooden rod to my chest. “Oh, no. Ah-ah. Clever. Very clever, Ari. I can’t go telling you secrets before you’re ready to learn them. If you want to know that, you’ll have to find and ask those heroes yourself. I did.” He tipped onto one foot, careening close to the desk as if he’d fall any moment—but no, he didn’t. He fell the other way, staggering before pirouetting with more grace than I’d thought he had. Krisham fell into his chair and threw his legs up onto the desk. “Why are you here?”
“Oh, Rishi Ibrahm told me to take another look around, see what the bindings can do to a person.” That much was true at least, and I felt it would calm Krisham just enough after he caught on to my prying.
“That makes sense.” He reached out for the cup that sat in the same spot as when I’d seen it last, still resting tilted on its side. Krisham’s brows knotted together and he grabbed the beverage. He took one sip before setting it back askew. “Ahn.” It remained in place. Anchored.
I thought back to what had happened when Rishi Ibrahm had thrown the invisible weight at me that sent me off the Crow’s Nest. One binding rooted things in place—kept him firmly fixed. The other led to an unseen force crashing into me.
Ahn and ahl. To anchor and to throw? I shook my head, knowing I didn’t have it wholly right. There was no need to lock himself in place if he had merely thrown a weight against me. Unless it was his weight? But it didn’t explain how.
I kept that in mind, hoping to delve into that pair of bindings later. And Krisham wouldn’t be of willing help. I’d have to visit someone else. “Is it okay if I go see Immi?”
“Sure. I’ll take you.”
“Oh, that’s not—”
Krisham ignored my protest. “I’ll take you. Come with me.” He got back to his feet, rocking like he himself would topple. The makeshift sword hung loose in his grip and he swung it through the air as he led the way.
We walked up in silence and he opened the door for me as promised.
I thanked him and he told me he’d wait outside until I was done.
Immi sat cross-legged before the padded walls, though tonight, there were no red stains. Her hands did not press and drag against anything. They rested folded and neat in her lap, thumbs set to twiddling.
“Immi, how are you doing?”
She turned halfway to regard me. “I’ve seen you before.”
I nodded, sinking to one knee but not getting any closer. “I was here before with Rishi Ibrahm when you were, um…” I couldn’t finish the sentence and resorted to miming with my fingers.
“Oh, continuing my tests.” She wiggled her fingers to mirror my own motions. “I remember. Are you well?”
I blinked, taken aback by the question. “I suppose as well as I can be. I’ve had it rough of late. But I’m alive. That counts for something.”
“For now.” There was no malice in her voice. It was distant and low, almost like she’d recited a boring fact from memory.
“Right. For now.” I licked my lips, uncertain if I should ask her anything else. “Immi, may I come closer and sit by you?”
She patted the ground by her side, welcoming me. “Of course.”
I smiled. “Thank you.” Then I joined her.
For a while, we sat in complete silence, neither of us saying a word.
Immi idly picked at her fingernails, then the flesh around them, but not breaking skin. “What’s on your mind, Ari?”
I hadn’t expected that and almost didn’t have an answer. But something had been weighing on me, and who better to tell about it than the girl who rarely saw anyone at all?
So I went into the story of Ampur, of my feud with Nitham, of finding Shola and taking him in. It’s odd. These were things close to my heart—secrets in a way, and yet, I felt perfectly at ease with her in the quiet padded room away from the world.
When I finished, Immi pursed her lips and fidgeted. She looked more like a little girl than the woman she was in that moment. Someone who wanted terribly to ask a question that she shouldn’t. “… Can I see it?”
I frowned. “See what?”
“The kitten? Can you bring it to me one day? I know you’re not supposed to have it, but I’ll keep it secret, I promise. Please?”
I thought it over, not sure how I’d sneak Shola over to see Immi, but a second look at her face convinced me. “Yes. I can do that. But, can you make me a promise in return?”
She pursed her lips but nodded.
“I don’t have a right to ask you this, but for one set, can you maybe not…” I stopped short again and scratched the air before the walls.
Her face pulled into a deep frown, but it wasn’t one of sadness or disappointment. More a thing of serious consideration. After another moment, she nodded. “I can. It’ll be hard, but you have to bring the kitten.”
I laughed. “I will.”
Then Immi did something I didn’t expect at all. She lunged from her place and threw her weight against me, arms going wide around me. “Thank you, Ari.”
