by Cari Thomas
‘You don’t have a heart left to break.’
‘I don’t have a heart?’ Aunt’s face contorted. ‘I raised you, didn’t I? I loved you! I loved your father. I still do.’ She looked over at the corner of the room.
‘What is it?’ said Anna, unable to look directly at him.
‘He looks just like him.’ Aunt smiled. ‘We used his blood. Selene helped me create him. It’s a memory of your father, Anna. It’s all I’ve got left after your mother took him away from me.’
A golem. Anna thought of the lingerie in Aunt’s drawer, the crumpled sheets and she knew what Aunt did with him up there, on the bed where her parents died.
Aunt stood up and pulled her dressing gown tighter. ‘I have carried this curse with me for decades, the weight of it crushing me, the sin of it dirtying my body and my mind. I’ve spent my life making sure you’ll never have to feel the same way, that you will never have to suffer.’
It was Anna’s turn to laugh then. ‘Suffer? I’ve suffered at your hands my entire life.’
‘A little suffering makes you stronger. It was enough, enough to prepare you, not enough to kill you.’
‘That’s not how parenting works.’
‘You don’t know how hard it is to be a mother.’
‘You’re not my mother, you never have been and you never will be.’
Aunt looked away when she said the words. She turned back, her eyes tight with pain. ‘The Binders arrive tomorrow afternoon. You will be bound, and then you will forgive me.’
LOVE
Love is the most dangerous of all emotions. Unless tightly bound it is the undoing and ruining of us. Binders. Unbound. Cowans. All.
Binders’ Training, The Book of the Binders
Aunt left the room and the thing that was not her father followed her out. For a moment, I thought … Anna could not follow the trail of thought, the pathways it led to were dark and full of pain. It’s not my father. It’s not my father. It’s a golem. If that thing is a golem – what is Attis? She brushed that thought aside too; whatever Attis was, he was somehow in on all this. He had lied, just as he said he didn’t.
Anna lay back in bed. There was no point trying to escape. Aunt had locked all the doors and her magic would be too strong to break. She did not sleep. She waited and poured her secrets into the nanta bag, having no one left to turn to but herself.
Daylight came and outside it was a brilliant summer’s day. She watched kids playing in the neighbour’s garden, rested her head against the glass and felt the warmth of the sun trying to get through. Aunt came for her at midday, knocking on the door.
She’d run Anna a bath. The water was searing hot, dotted with rose petals; they floated serenely, and yet the scents were sharp and vinegary. Aunt scrubbed Anna down and then left her to dress in a coarse shift that had been left on her bed, crisply ironed as always.
Once Anna was ready Aunt suggested lunch, speaking as if everything was normal – as if nothing had happened. Anna followed suit. She went downstairs and sat with Aunt at the table, forcing down her food. They prepared cakes for the meeting and Aunt made biscuits.
The doorbell rang at three o’clock.
‘They’re here. Boil the kettle.’
Anna heard them arriving, being led into the freshly spruced-up living room. When called, she appeared with a tray of cakes. The curtains were drawn. The golem stood in the corner of the room, watching. Peter was tied to a chair in the centre, unconscious, two empty chairs next to him. Anna almost dropped the tray. Almost.
‘What’s he doing here?’
‘He is required,’ said Aunt.
Anna turned cold. She found it hard to move.
‘You aren’t going to disappoint us today, are you?’ Mrs Withering smiled her non-smile.
Anna turned away from Peter. ‘Of course not. Tea, anyone?’
She went back into the kitchen and prepared the teas. When she returned Peter’s head had lolled forwards, his fair hair shadowy in the dimly lit room. What are they going to do to you?
‘Anna, how’s school?’ said Mrs Dumphreys. Her silk shirt was an unsightly salmon pink.
‘Good, thank you. I’m glad it’s the holidays.’
‘Your ceremony is well timed,’ said Mrs Bradshaw, pincering a biscuit. ‘You’ll have plenty of time to settle into your new life as a Binder. It does take some adjusting to.’
There was a knock on the front door.
‘Ah, they’ve arrived,’ said Aunt, leaving the room.
Anna heard voices she knew and then Selene and Attis walked in. Attis had Effie in his arms, as unconscious as Peter.
‘We’ve brought her,’ said Selene, not looking at Anna.
Anna had managed to maintain some vestige of calm until that moment, but seeing Attis and Selene – it was too much. She held her Knotted Cord and dug her nails into her hands, drawing blood. She hated them. She hated them both.
Attis walked past, not looking at her either. He placed Effie down on a chair back to back with Peter’s. Mrs Withering made a gesture with her hands and cords appeared around Effie’s arms behind the chair, tying her to it. Her black hair fell over her face. I hate you too, Effie Everdell.
‘I’ll stay for the ceremony,’ said Selene, taking up residence against the wall.
‘Selene …’ Aunt replied threateningly.
‘I am not leaving. I raised that girl.’
‘Suit yourself, but you won’t enjoy it.’ A smile pulled at Aunt’s lips.
Attis stood next to Selene, arms folded.
‘Who is he?’ said Mrs Aldershot.
‘Just one of Selene’s playthings. He needs to leave,’ said Aunt. ‘Now.’
‘You’ll have to make me,’ Attis replied.
Aunt sighed. She raised a hand and cords wound their way around Attis’s body, pinning him to the wall. She turned to Anna. ‘Now, Anna, it’s time for your final test. If you pass, we shall proceed with the ceremony. Take out your Knotted Cord.’
Anna did so, her hands steady.
‘You have proved to me over the years that you are able to control all of your emotions, but there’s one left to master: love.’ Aunt looked at Peter. ‘Here he is – the boy you love, the boy who Effie betrayed you with, but you still love him, don’t you? I know that much about our curse. It is relentless. Feel it. I want you to feel how much you love him.’
‘I feel it,’ Anna replied, refusing to feel anything at all.
Aunt took out her own cords and began to cast a spell. ‘Now you must show me you are in control of that love. Tie it away in your cord. Crush it.’
Anna nodded and began to tie a knot in her cord: the seventh and final knot.
‘If you can’t, he will die.’
Anna’s heart raced. There was the catch. There is always a catch. She looked at Peter, slumped in his chair, but as the spell began it was not Peter who cried out.
It was Attis.
He drooped against the cords holding him to the wall. The Binders turned in unison towards him, faces twitching with confusion. Aunt looked back and forth between Anna and Peter – Attis and Effie – eyes growing wide.
Attis cried out in pain again, his entire body turning rigid, veins straining along his face and neck. Anna realized what was happening: She was doing it. I’m killing him! ‘No!’ she cried out, her carefully controlled emotions exploding. ‘No!’
‘Drag him to the centre,’ Aunt commanded. ‘He’s the one she loves.’
No. I can’t love him. The cords disappeared from around Attis. He crumpled to the floor. Two of the Binders pulled at his legs, drawing him towards them. He writhed in agony, his face racked with it … It was unbearable.
‘He will die, Anna,’ Aunt called. ‘If you don’t control your love.’
Anna fell to her knees, hands fluttering over Attis as if she could somehow stop the pain, but it was Aunt’s spell and it was too powerful. I love you. I love you. I can’t love you.
She remembered that she hated him
too. Yes! I hate you! She meant it. Her hands were shaking so badly she dropped the cord. She picked it back up and continued to form the final knot. She pulled it tight with hatred. Attis cried out again, full of torment. It’s not working. Hate is not working! It’s not strong enough!
She found her love again – stripped all else away until her love for him was as naked and skeletal as his white key. Love, who laughs at locksmiths. Her heart beat with it. She pulled the knot in the cord tight again, breaking the bones of it.
Attis was panting, his eyes wide with fear and pain. He clutched a hand to his heart, his lips turning blue.
‘Not good enough, Anna, he’s dying.’
Anna remembered sitting with Aunt in this very room, listening to music but not being able to feel it, letting it wash over her, no more than a collection of notes, a pretty pattern. Love is the same: a pattern, a collection of memories and feelings, anger, joy, grief, fear, desire, hate. She didn’t need to separate them. They were all love. She looked at Attis and let them wash over her, separating herself from them instead of them from each other. They mean nothing.
Attis moaned.
Anna tightened the knot. Nothing. A calm came over her.
She was suddenly aware of love, but she couldn’t feel it. It was an interesting sensation, but not one that touched her heart. If she kissed him now she would not feel what she had felt before.
She gave the knot a final tug.
Attis gasped for air. His body relaxed from its contortion, his face slowly returned to its normal colour. He rolled over and looked at Anna – a different kind of agony on his face. She felt nothing for him. In fact, she’d never felt more clear-headed. Her heart slowed, her hands stilled; she looked around at the Binders and found she didn’t hate or fear any of them. She didn’t feel much of anything at all. If this was a taste of how it felt to be bound then it wasn’t so bad after all.
‘It is done,’ Aunt declared. ‘She is ready.’
‘Only just,’ Mrs Withering sneered. ‘Besides, who is this boy, Vivienne? You told us she was in love with the other.’
Aunt’s lip quivered with irritation. She turned to Selene accusingly.
‘He’s Effie’s boyfriend,’ said Selene. ‘You know that.’
Aunt looked at her long and hard. ‘Did you do this? Did you know Anna was in love with him? It was meant to be Peter. Effie betrayed her with Peter.’
‘I didn’t know, but there was as much chance of Anna falling in love with him as there was of Effie falling in love with Peter. The curse works either way and a man is a man. Does it really matter?’
Aunt turned to look at Anna strangely. ‘It seems betrayal is not clear-cut.’ She frowned and then barked: ‘Get rid of the other one. He’s not needed any more.’
Several Binders put down their cups of tea and moved towards Peter. Anna thought for a moment they might kill him but they carried him out of the room. Others picked Attis up from the floor and dragged him onto the chair with difficulty. He was still weak and did not resist as they bound him with cords. Anna wondered distantly why he was still required.
‘Let us prepare,’ said Aunt.
She clicked her fingers in Effie’s face and she began to wake, slowly, taking in the scene around her. Her eyes widened cavernously. Anna had never seen Effie look afraid. She pulled wildly against her restraints, only stopping when she saw Attis through the corner of her eye. That was when the true fear set in. Effie had no idea what was happening.
‘Ah, she wakes,’ said Aunt, bending down to smile at her. ‘You owe me an apology, Effie Fawkes, for how you acted at my dinner party. It was extremely rude.’ Effie raged ineffectually against her bound mouth. ‘I think you owe Anna an apology too.’ She turned Effie’s head towards Anna. ‘Are you aware she is your sister?’ Effie’s eyes widened as she tried to comprehend Aunt’s words. ‘Twins, in fact. I bet it’s a relief in some ways, though, to know that Selene is not your real mother. She’s not fit to be anyone’s mother.’
‘Leave her be, Vivienne!’ Selene begged.
Aunt continued calmly, taking her time. Enjoying herself. ‘It seems you’ve already lived up to our family curse by betraying Anna with Peter, just like I said you would, just like your mother did to me. Although it appears that the one you both love is this pathetic excuse for a human being.’ Aunt pointed at Attis, who was beginning to stir in his chair. ‘Anna just proved her love for him in front of all of us and now she will bind the curse before you destroy her life any more than you already have.’
Effie twisted to look at Anna, her expression confused, desperate, scared, but Anna could see the hate there too – the hate that had already been forming, simmering and seething now beneath the dark moons of her eyes. Anna reviewed it distantly. I don’t hate you any more, Effie. The last of her emotions had given themselves up to the Knotted Cord.
Mrs Withering grabbed Anna’s arm and led her towards the third seat, facing Effie and Attis: Her two betrayers. Or did I betray you, Effie? They bound her legs to the chair but left her arms free. Anna dropped her Knotted Cord into her lap.
Selene cried out suddenly. ‘What’s happening? No! Stop this!’ Cords wrapped around Selene’s body, locking her to the wall. ‘Stop!’
‘You think we would let you roam freely during the ceremony?’ said Aunt.
‘Vivienne! You know I won’t stop it – I want this to happen as much as you!’
‘I’m not sure you do,’ said Aunt, putting her hands on Effie’s shoulders. ‘You see, I haven’t been entirely honest with you, Selene. One little white lie over sixteen years isn’t so bad though, is it? We couldn’t tell you – you’d never have agreed to it. You see, she must die too.’ Aunt ran a hand through Effie’s hair. ‘For Anna, she must die.’
‘No!’ Selene struggled against her bindings desperately. ‘Vivienne, no! No! You can’t mean it. For Marie, for Dominic, for any love left in you – you can’t!’
‘I’m doing this for love.’
‘The girls were not meant to be harmed – just him, just him.’ She was crying now. ‘He’s the curse! You don’t need anything else! Please. Oh please—’
Effie and Attis pulled against their restraints like puppets wiggling uselessly on their strings, their magic not strong enough to resist the nine women surrounding them. Attis turned to Anna; his eyes, which had been so resolute, were full of panic, tearing themselves apart. You didn’t expect her to die either …
‘Sin drives out sin, Selene. We require the power of the curse to bind the curse and perhaps his blood would be enough,’ Aunt considered. ‘But his blood and her blood together – now that is the true curse. The bindings will be stronger if she is sacrificed too.’
The sacrifice: they are the sacrifice.
Selene pulled against the knots, hair falling over her face, tears streaming. Anna had never seen her look so ugly. ‘No.’ She shuddered. ‘You promised me – not the girls!’
Aunt made a knot in the air and Selene’s mouth snapped shut.
‘Perhaps if you’d raised the girl better, if she wasn’t so wild, the Binders might have considered it, but no, Effie cannot be allowed to live.’ Aunt grabbed Effie’s chin and looked into her eyes. ‘Evil like her mother. The apple never falls far from the tree.’ Effie snatched her head away. She began to cry too – desperate, angry tears – Anna had never seen her look so small. Attis went wild in his chair. He loves her, thought Anna distantly.
‘Let us begin.’ Aunt handed each of the Binders a closed rose. She gave Anna a rose too. ‘Hold this and hold on. Remember, when your time comes you must make the necessary sacrifice. You must trust me. I’ve only ever wanted what’s best for you. If not, we will be forced to make it for you.’ She kissed her on the head. ‘Be strong, my girl. Weakness in feeling, strength in control.’
Anna felt far away, as if she were watching the whole scene from above: the Binders putting their teas down, taking their roses, and stepping forward, pushing chairs and sofas back; stripping off th
eir cardigans, jumpers, silk shirts, trousers and floral skirts, until they were in vests and T-shirts, tights and pants – bare, wrinkled arms exposed, heavy Binders’ necklaces and bruises revealed around their necks – undoing their buns and ponytails, loosening pins, shaking out their hair.
They sat in a circle around them, faces all pinched, all hideous, candles flickering over them with muted flames. Selene writhed against the wall, tears rolling down her cheeks.
‘Magic is the first sin; we must bear it silently,’ they said in unison.
‘We call on the Goddess of the Closed Rose and the Nine-Knotted Cord, the Goddess of Silence and Secrets.’ Aunt’s voice was low and strong.
‘Goddess of Silence and Secrets,’ they repeated.
‘Today we call on love, which is the curse and will bind the curse.’
Anna felt the magic rise in the air, weaving through them, scented with love. The roses began to open, excruciatingly beautiful, vines extending from them, growing long, wrapping around the Binders’ exposed bodies.
‘We call on love.’
Around their waists and breasts and weaving through their hair, down their arms.
‘We call on love.’
Vines tightening, thorns entering their flesh – puncturing – blood welling up and running over their bodies; hallowed faces lifting to the sky.
‘We call on love.’
They turned to each other and held one another, kissing each other’s faces, lips, bodies – thorns deepening, blood smearing – falling onto the floor, hair growing wild, streaked with blood.
‘We call on love.’
Anna could feel love in the air, a dark and curious pattern, designed to suffocate.
Mrs Bradshaw held her rose out. ‘By knot of one the binding has begun.’ She took the lengths of vine and knotted them, thorns cutting into her hands as she did so.
They each knotted their rose in turn:
‘By knot of two it cometh true. Yisocoritu.’
‘By knot of three, so mote it be. Nareg.’
‘By knot of four, ’tis strengthened more. Fireg.’