Soulbinder

by Sebastien de Castell

  An odd sincerity suffused her thoughts, as if some part of her really did want me to force her to reveal herself. I removed my hand and instead took hers, placing her fingers against my own markings so that she would know I wasn’t unlocking them. It felt important to show that what I said next came from me, and not some supernatural insight given me by the shadowblack. “This friend of mine …” Despite my current predicament, a smile came to my face. “She’s like you in so many ways. She loves to tease, because that’s how she tells you that you’re okay—that she doesn’t see you as broken or less worthwhile than anyone else. She’s bold too. I swear, the more dangerous the situation, the bigger the swagger in her step. The more scared she is, the more brazenly she talks.”

  “Sounds like she’s hiding something.”

  I let that slide. Diadera was leaning close to the bars now, the red curls of her hair so close I found myself longing to touch them. “She’s got hair like yours too, which I imagine is pretty rare.”

  “Red hair’s not that uncommon.”

  “It is among the Mahdek.”

  She froze like a deer who’s just smelled the hunter and heard the twang of the crossbow but can’t yet feel the wound and is frantically trying to figure out which way to run. “Why would you say that?”

  “I didn’t know at first. I knew something was off though. The whole Daroman act—that was too perfect. Every gesture and mannerism, every syllable uttered in the most scintillatingly pure High Daroman accent? You’ve obviously travelled, and no one who travels keeps their accent that pristine.”

  “Not many would’ve picked up on such subtleties. Your Argosi friend teach you that?”

  I shrugged. “Some, but that only told me you were hiding something. In the end, it all came back to that day in the abbot’s tower when I first arrived. You came to find me outside his office.”

  “I remember. So what?”

  “You hated me.”

  “Hated you?” she laughed. “I practically threw myself at you.”

  “Yeah. That doesn’t happen to me a lot. People tend to find me kind of off-putting until they get to know me. After that they usually want to murder me, but you didn’t need to wait that long. Tournam even said the next day that you were supposed to kill me.”

  She hesitated, but her eyes didn’t look away at all. “He told me you were Jan’Tep. I swore a long time ago that Suta’rei would be the only one of your people I’d tolerate. So I came to seduce you. Get you to come with me out to the cliff side. A lot of people when they first come here, when they see a demon emerge from someone who has the same disease as them, they just walk right off the edge of the cliff. No one would’ve questioned it.”

  Tournam. Diadera. Ghilla for sure. How many of these people had wanted to murder me on sight?

  “So what happened?” I asked.

  Diadera’s fingertips traced the winding black vines around my eye. This. I’d never met anyone whose markings were from the same ethereal plane as mine. For a second, when I touched them, I didn’t feel …

  “Alone,” I said out loud.

  She nodded, taking her hand away. “Your Mahdek friend—has she told you what it’s like? To wake up every day and know that your people are gone? That they were killed, brutally, horribly, and that no one shed a tear for them?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Stop saying that! I don’t need your pity.”

  “No, I don’t mean about being Mahdek.” I stepped back from the bars. “I don’t know what it’s like to lose your people. I only know what it’s like to have your own people hate you, hunt you and want nothing more than to see you dead.”

  “Then you should want to see them suffer!” She gripped the bars so tight the flesh of her knuckles drained of colour. “The Jan’Tep despise shadowblacks, Kellen! Hate them as much as they hated my people, and you know what they did to us! Even that friend of yours, the three-fingered girl with the hyena, she ran away from you the moment she saw the rest of us and realised what you were destined to become. They aren’t your people any more, Kellen. We are. You should want to see the Jan’Tep wiped from the face of the earth!”

  “I do,” I admitted. “Some days I want it so much I almost wish the demon inside me would take over.”

  “Then side with us! Promise to work with the abbot and—”

  I shook my head. “The problem is that I keep thinking about that friend of mine. Ferius Parfax is her name. Saved my life, then proceeded to make a giant mess of it. Craziest person you could ever meet. Despite everything she’s seen, every ugly thing the world’s shown her, she gets up every morning and tries to save it. Not just that—she does it with joy. With joy, Diadera. Every step, she walks the Path of the Wild Daisy. Can you imagine such a thing?”

  There was silence between us for a while, then finally Diadera said, “She sounds amazing. I wish I’d met her.”

  “You still could.”

  “No.”

  “One thing I’ve learned walking the long roads, nothing’s ever too late unless you choose to make it so.” Wow. Ferius would’ve been proud of that one.

  “This woman, this Ferius, who you say saved your life? The abbot saved mine. He taught me to take all my rage and helplessness and turn it into strength. Instead of living in fear of the shadows, I use them to protect the people I care about. Instead of hiding from my enemies, I make them hide from me.”

  “Sounds noble. I can’t believe no one’s written a song about it.”

  She didn’t take the bait. “My life is going to be short, and my death more awful than most. I can’t afford to wait for love or friendship or any of the lies people tell to make themselves feel better. But I can still find pleasure, and purpose, and take whatever comfort those give me for as long as I can.”

  “Even if it means helping the abbot perform the abnegation ritual on his enemies? Can you really live with that?”

  Without looking away from me, she opened her coat and began unbuttoning her shirt, just enough that I could see the top of the markings she’d cut into her skin. “Oh, Diadera … why?”

  “Because I chose my side, Kellen. When the fighting starts, if things are going badly and my sacrifice means the abbot can hold off those Jan’Tep monsters even one minute more? I’ll give him my shadows, and slip into whatever death awaits me with a smile on my face.” She stepped away from the bars. “I’m sorry if that disappoints you.”

  “No, Diadera. I’m sorry.”

  A small smile appeared on her lips. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop saying that? I don’t want your pity, Kellen.”

  “It’s not pity. I’m just wishing you could’ve known real friendship, just once.” I looked back at the travelling pack sitting there next to the bed, and listened for a moment to the snores and grumbles that emerged. “He steals my stuff, he bites me and now he can’t even speak to me, but even now just being near him makes me feel better.”

  “That’s not friendship, Kellen. That’s called having a pet.”

  “Shh,” I whispered. “He can hear you, and he’s probably hungry for eyeballs right about now.” I came back to the bars, knowing the risk, but needing one last time to feel that strange connection with her that I would likely never share with another human being. If you’d had the chance to know Reichis properly, you’d have learned the most important thing there is about friendship.

  I could feel her probing, trying to push deeper in my mind. I let her, but only down the path I set for her. You’d do anything for him, she thought.

  That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, Diadera. No matter how bad things get or how badly you disappoint them, real friends never, ever abandon you. Even when they have to pretend to do so.

  Too late her eyes went wide as she finally understood. Her shadowblack freckles flew up into the air, the swarm seeking out the threat that had been there all along. Diadera just hadn’t been able to see it for the simple reason that she couldn’t imagine it.

  The blow ca
me quick, and she slumped down to the floor. Red curls slipped between the bars, as if some small part of her were trying to reach the other side.

  “How long have you been here?” I asked the darkness.

  “Since before she brought you in,” Nephenia replied, stepping close to the bars so I could see her. Ishak padded along next to her.

  “How did you get back to the abbey?”

  Nephenia gave a rather inelegant snort. “You would think after the first time they’d be on guard for it, but Azir was so exhausted and the others so full of themselves at having the means to defeat the posse that nobody noticed when we trailed you through shadow a second time.” She pulled a tiny glass ball from her coat and broke it against the lock on the cell door. I heard a click and it swung open.

  “You didn’t need to use up one of your charms,” I said. “My sotocastra coin could’ve done it.”

  “We don’t have time for that. Besides, I made the charm months ago. The spell wasn’t going to last much longer anyway.” Ishak gave two little barks. She patted his head. “Yes, dear, I’ll tell him.”

  “Tell me what?”

  “When we got back to the abbey, I wasn’t sure where to hide or what to do. Ishak surmised you’d end up in a cell eventually so we might as well come and wait for you here.”

  “You took your sweet time in freeing me.”

  Nephenia looked down at Diadera’s unconscious form. “I … I figured you had things that needed to be said.”

  It’s funny how someone can know you better than you know yourself. All the while I’d thought I was playing it glib, spinning things out with Diadera to give Nephenia time to find me. Turns out she was just giving me time to say goodbye.

  “You have a plan?” Nephenia asked. “Because from what I heard sitting here, it sounded like your crazy abbot friend is up to something awful. So unless you have some idea about how to stop everything from going to straight to seven hells …”

  I went over to grab my pack. As I got there Reichis crawled out, stretched himself twice, farted and then wandered past the open cell door to clamber on top of Ishak’s back, sitting there like a bizarre little furry cowboy. He chittered something in the hyena’s ear.

  “What did he say?” I asked.

  Ishak yipped a few times. Nephenia’s brow furrowed. “He says he’s not sure. It’s hard to make sense of the squirrel cat any more.”

  “Oh. I guess tha—”

  “But he’s pretty sure Reichis says you having a plan means we’re all screwed.”

  Well, at least my business partner was as perceptive as ever. I held out a hand to Nephenia. She looked down at it, one eyebrow raised. “Are you trying to hold hands with me, Kellen?”

  “No. But I assume you have something for me?”

  She watched me steadily, trying to keep her features impassive, but not entirely able to keep a hint of a smile from creeping onto her face. “Why would I have something for you?”

  “Because after you left, you went to make sure Shalla was okay.”

  “You know I hate your sister, right?”

  “Yeah, but you went anyway, because you knew I wouldn’t want to leave her alone and undefended like that. And once she woke up and the two of you went through your usual litany of threats and accusations, then she no doubt started up on how I was making a terrible mistake and had a responsibility to support my family and—”

  The smile became a grin. “And how terribly angry Papa was going to be.”

  “Then she’d tell you it was your duty as a Jan’Tep—even an exiled one—to get a message to me.”

  “Shalla would never trust someone like me with such an important missive.”

  “Of course not. That’s why she gave you something that would let her communicate with me here in the abbey.”

  Nephenia reached up and pinched my cheek with the three fingers of her hand. “How is it you’re so cute and yet everyone still wants to kill you?”

  She let go of my cheek and withdrew something from the pocket of her coat. “You were half right. Shalla did give me something for you, and it is a means of far-talking.” She handed me a playing card. “Only it doesn’t reach your sister.”

  The card was beautifully illustrated and disconcertingly familiar. A picture of an elaborate crown held aloft by wooden hands, an offering made to the only one worthy of such a gift. The title beneath it read: “The Crowned Mage.”

  “Looks like Daddy wants a word,” Nephenia said.

  55

  The Negotiation

  Why is it that however far I travel, I never seem to be able to get away from my father? No matter how much I might have looked up to him as a child, I’d always been closer to my mother. Yet I hadn’t spoken to Bene’maat for almost two years. Not a word since I’d left home. I couldn’t help but wonder if that wasn’t by Ke’heops’s design.

  “Hello, Father,” I said.

  The image on the card had already come to life, strong, carefully manicured hands reaching down to take the crown and place it on his head. No doubt that was his favourite part. “Kellen. I see you’ve once again found new and interesting people with whom to conspire against your own family.”

  I smiled back at him, then flung the card against the dungeon wall, breaking the connection.

  “Feeling a little irritable?” Nephenia asked.

  I walked over to pick up the card. “Just setting a few ground rules for this negotiation.”

  It took a minute or two before the spell inside the card could breach the gap between us once again. My father didn’t look amused.

  “Don’t say an ancestors-damned word, Father,” I warned before he could express his outrage. “I’m going to talk and you’re going to listen. Understand?”

  He was still for so long that it wasn’t at all clear that the spell in the card was still working. “Speak then.”

  That told me a lot. My father would never suffer the indignity of me taking control of the conversation unless he already knew he was in trouble. “I assume you’ve started seeing the effects of the abbot’s shadow-banding?”

  Ke’heops nodded. “Seven mages—men and women of good houses—began to show the signs. They turned their magic against us.” The illustrated jaw tightened. “I had to end them.”

  “Well, you should probably abandon the bridge. Live to fight another day.”

  His drawn lip curled. “How little you understand of the ways of the world, Kellen. We are halfway to the abbey. If we turn away now, after I have promised our people a victory, I will never be crowned mage sovereign.” He held up a hand. “And before you dishonour yourself and me with more clever remarks, know that such a defeat will keep our people weak and servile for a hundred years. Changes are afoot, Kellen. The world moves towards a deadlier war than any of us have ever seen. Maps will be redrawn. Would you see your homeland reduced to scattered fiefdoms beholden to greater nations?”

  I was completely comfortable with that idea. Nonetheless I asked, “Will you risk losing every one of your mages over this fight?”

  “Yes. I will send every last one of them to their deaths if needed. There are two kinds of leaders men seek, Kellen. Those who rule best in peace, and those who rule best in war. Even you must understand the times we live in. I will lose many—perhaps most—of my mages, but if just a few of us survive, we will reach the other side of the bridge and destroy the Ebony Abbey forever. Our people will mourn our dead, but they will do so with a pride long denied them.”

  “And what about Shalla?” I asked. “Will you be so sanguine when she dies?”

  “Your sister is forbidden from fighting in the battle. She has remained behind at the encampment as I commanded.”

  I did him the courtesy of pretending that was remotely possible. Shalla was a stickler for rules, except when it came to protecting her family. She would no more allow Ke’heops to come to this death trap without her than she would allow me to die here alone. I wondered what she would do the day she was forced to cho
ose between us.

  “There might be another way,” I said.

  My father gazed back at me without any expression at all. No doubt he thought he was hiding his true feelings from me. But two years of learning the Argosi ways had taught me that even the absence of emotion can be a sign. In this case, it told me my father very much hoped I might have the answer to his problems. Considering how little faith he had in me, that meant he was truly desperate.

  “I’ll stop the abbot from shadow-banding more of your mages. You’ll be able to bring your forces across the bridge.”

  “How?”

  “None of your business.” I wasn’t just being belligerent either. If my father knew how I was going to do it, he’d find a way to turn that to his advantage. “In exchange, you’re going to let the children here go free.”

  “Children? You mean shadowblacks?”

  I nodded. “And their families. Most of these people are just trying to live their lives in peace. They don’t have Jan’Tep magic, nor do they have any shadowblack abilities. They’re just suffering from a curse that our own people brought to the world. If demonic forces ever take hold of them, someone will kill them easily enough before it becomes a problem. Let them go find peace for whatever time they have.”

  “No,” my father said—too quickly, which meant I knew he was thinking about it. “To allow so many to go free would diminish my victory.”

  “Not nearly as much as having your asses handed to you by a bunch of lunatic monks—which is exactly what’s going to happen unless you do things my way.”

  He looked at me through the frame of the card. “Your way. What is your way, Kellen? Where do these petty acts of interference and defiance lead? Has the Argosi so addled your mind with her frontier philosophy that you believe an outlaw spellslinger can alter the natural course of history?”

  I didn’t of course. I doubted all the Argosi with all their talents could stop whatever continental war was coming. But there’s a reason Ferius taught me arta valar before she taught me how to fight. “Just watch me,” I said.

  The surface of the card rippled just a bit as he snorted. “Very well. Stop the abbot’s atrocity before I lose any more of my mages and I will give you an hour to remove the children. Once the battle begins in earnest though, anyone left will die in fire and thunder. I will allow no trace of the Ebony Abbey to remain standing.”