My shirt was now open to my waist, and she kissed my chest. Her lips made my skin come alive—like the near miss of a lighting bolt shot at me by an enemy, an instant of fear quickly silenced by the rush of knowing you’ve beaten death one more time. I pulled at her dress and we sank awkwardly but unashamedly to the bed. Fumbling like country hicks in a barn in the hot afternoon we gradually got each other’s clothes out of the way. Mariadne was five years older than me, but her skin was the even, sun-kissed tone of an artist’s canvas. Mine was not.
“Those scars…” she said.
I said nothing, but held back the urgency I felt to touch her body in case my own had quashed her passion.
“Who did such things to you?” she asked, watching my expression.
“A lot of people,” I said. “Starting with my own.”
She traced a finger along a scar on my shoulder. “Your own people? The Jan’Tep?”
I nodded. “I’ve been… something of a disappointment to them.”
She kissed the scar on my shoulder, then the one on my chest, then the one on my neck. She put her hands on either side of my face and looked at me.
“Because of this?” she said, her eyes on the unquenchable blackness around my left eye.
“Yes.”
“To hate one of your own, because of a simple deformity?”
“It’s not—”
Mariadne leaned in, bringing her lips to the shadowblack.
“No—”
Her lips touched me for only for an instant before she pulled back in shock. “It’s cold! Is it always so cold?”
I nodded.
She looked at me for a moment as if deciding what to do, then she said, “I like it.”
“You like it?”
Mariadne nodded. “Everyone has a coldness to them, Kellen. But you keep yours where everyone can see it. Most everyone else keeps theirs inside and only lets it out when you get close to them. I like that I know where the cold part of you lies.”
I brought my hands to her sides, letting them glide gently up the softness of her skin, to her arms, then to her breasts.
“Are you trying to find the cold in me, card player? Or the heat?” Her smile was wicked.
I smiled back. I was tired of being afraid too. “Both,” I said. “But I think it’ll require a lot more exploration.”
Mariadne leaned into me and brought her leg across my hips. “Then let’s begin.”
43
The Warning
It was first light when I headed back to my own room. I hadn’t wanted to leave Mariadne, but I was in dire need of fresh clothes. I found Marshal Colfax waiting for me in the hallway.
“Seems like we had an arrangement, Mister Kellen,” he said.
“Not one I ever agreed to. Besides, things have changed.”
Colfax smiled. “Change happens. Sometimes. Other times, though, we just think things have changed, when really everything’s exactly as we left it.”
“Listen, marshal, the queen wants me here. She’s asked me to stay and protect her from whichever bastards are trying to bring her down, and I aim to do just that.”
He gave a small nod of his head. “Yep, reckoned what with all those Argosi ways I seen in you, you’d plan to do something like that. So tell me, Kellen, who’s going to protect my queen from you?”
“Me? Marshal, I’m not the one she has to worry about.”
“No? Aren’t you the one who went and humiliated her in front of the court up north? And then again right here, not a day ago?”
“That’s… that’s not what I intended.”
“Ah. Right. Not what you intended. Listen, kid—” Colfax tapped a finger on my chest—“I do believe your heart’s in the right place.” He moved his finger lower, just above my belly. “But your soul ain’t.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
His finger drifted upwards until it was at eye level. My left eye. “I’ve heard a hundred stories about the shadowblack, Kellen. Not one of them ends well.”
I went to bat his arm aside but he pulled it back before I could touch him. “I would never have taken you for a superstitious man, marshal.”
“Oh, I’ll heed all kinds of omens, portents and auguries when it comes to anything that might hurt the queen.”
I looked around to see if he’d brought back-up. “Is this going somewhere?” I asked.
“Reckon it’s not. I’ll see you around, Mister Kellen,” he said, and walked away.
I went back to my room and pushed open the door, to be greeted by an unholy mess. Sheets were torn, scratch marks were everywhere.
Reichis was gone.
On the bed lay a note: Thought you might want to join me at the Virtuous Maiden. It’s a nice place to stop for a meal on your way out of town. Colfax.
I looked around the room for blood, but I didn’t see any, and prayed it meant that Reichis was all right. Either way, I was going to have to kill the head of the marshals service, and that was never a good idea.
44
The Binder
The little restaurant was crowded. A trio of serving staff—the boisterous middle-aged woman who owned the place, a stocky man who, thanks to his limited enthusiasm and effort, I presumed to be her husband, and a young woman probably in her late teens who might’ve been their daughter—roved back and forth between tables and the bar, serving drinks and cold food. I noticed they studiously avoided the table I shared with Marshal Colfax and the scrawny, wrinkled man in the filthy white robes beneath a dusty white coat and a close-shaven scrub of salt-and-pepper hair.
The marshal’s own shoulder-length locks had long ago gone to grey, and his tanned, lined face belonged to a man who should’ve retired years ago. But wiry muscle showed through the open neck of his dark blue riding shirt, and when I met his eyes he looked back without a trace of concern.
“So…” I began.
The marshal put up a finger and waved for service. The younger of the serving maids came almost instantly. She had fewer years on her than I’d first thought. Definitely had to be the owners’ daughter. She was petite, pretty and, though her tresses were blonde rather than black, they were styled just like the queen’s. Maybe it was the fashion these days. She smiled at the marshal.
“Coffee,” he said pleasantly before she could ask.
“Water,” his companion muttered.
Colfax waved her away before I could order.
“So that’s how it’s going to be?” I asked.
He nodded. “Tried the easy way, kid. Asked you nicely. Now, well, now I can’t afford to be so polite.”
“Good. I prefer it that way.” I leaned back in the chair to let him see I’d left the flaps of my powder holsters open. “What have you done with my business partner?”
The marshal raised an eyebrow. “The squirrel cat? Don’t worry about him. He’s back in your room by now. Tough little bastard. Tore a strip out of my boys.”
The glib way he talked about having kidnapped Reichis—how it was all supposed to be fine now that he’d returned him to our rooms—made me want to wipe the smirk off his face. With a carving knife. “You ever touch Reichis again and I’ll do worse than that before I’m done with you.”
The marshal shook his head. “Don’t put this on me, Kellen. Like I said before, I asked you nicely.”
I considered a range of replies to that, but Colfax didn’t strike me as the kind of guy who’d worry too much about idle threats from exiled spellslingers. Instead I waved for the server. She ignored me so I stood up and bellowed, “Wine.”
She came back with all three drinks and gave me a slightly disgusted look that focused on the markings around my left eye. Guess the shadowblack isn’t considered fashionable at this establishment.
“Don’t take your anger out on the girl,” the marshal said, sipping his coffee. “Ain’t her fault you won’t listen to reason.”
“It’s a troubling medical condition I’ve had for a while now,” I said. “Can’t see
m to take orders from craggy old bastards who confuse being a lawman with being the law.”
Colfax’s companion gave a little sneering laugh that threatened to turn into full-blown chortling.
The marshal spared him a glance—a look of mild revulsion quickly replaced by a tolerant smile. “The reason my acquaintance here is laughing is because you said something funny just then.”
I cocked my head at that one. “Was it my smooth delivery?”
“Nope.” He took another sip of his coffee, then gave a questioning look at his friend and waited. The man drank his glass of water, then nodded.
“You recognise Sophistus here?” Colfax asked.
“Never seen him before in my life.”
“Right, well, not him exactly. But I reckoned you might’ve heard of his order. He’s a kind of, well, I suppose you’d say he’s a kind of spiritual hermit. From the old days.”
Sophistus smiled and reached a hand out towards me like he wanted me to shake it. I declined. Then I felt something crawl inside me.
“You probably know that we Daroman aren’t exactly a religious people any more,” Colfax went on. “It’s not really that useful for a civilised people. But back in the day, hell, we were just as gods-fearin’ as the next folk. We had lots of priests and holy women and all that claptrap. Cultures change over time though, and as we figured out more about how the world works and built more machines, we let go of a lot of our superstitions.” Colfax pressed his hands together in a mocking emulation of prayer. “Did you know, Kellen, you can travel a hundred miles in any direction from this restaurant and not find a church or monastery these days? You certainly wouldn’t meet a true believer.”
“Except for Sophistus,” I said, clenching and unclenching my fingers in case I’d have to make a fast move.
“Right, except for old Sophie here. He’s what they call an Abjurist of Saint Daebolus. Well, that’s not what most people call them. Most people just call them the white binders.”
I’d never heard of Saint Daebolus and until that moment I had no idea what an “abjurist” was supposed to be. But the moment the creepy bastard in his colourless, filthy robes caught my gaze, his eyes went milky white and a subtle smile came to his face. In that instant I knew—I knew—what was about to happen to me. A binder, Colfax had called him. A white binder. A length of twisting pale rope to snare a shadowblack.
My mind sent a screaming command to my legs, demanding that they get me to my feet so I could run out of that place as fast as they could carry me. The order was ignored.
I knew Sophistus was smiling, not because I was watching his face, but because I could feel his expression mirrored on my own. “That’s it,” Colfax said, his voice gentle, as if he were coaxing a frightened pony. “You just sit back down there and let it happen, Kellen. Best way to handle this now.”
I forced my gaze back to the binder. The withered, wrinkled forehead showed not the slightest sign of strain. My head turned of its own accord, bending effortlessly to his will. I could see the people at the tables around us, not one of them noticing what was happening to me. I couldn’t even summon a look of terror.
“Show him the first part, Sophie,” Colfax said.
The tiniest crinkle appeared at the corner of the binder’s eyes, as if he were just about to laugh. My throat spasmed once, twice, a third time. I wasn’t breathing.
“Remarkable, isn’t it? You can’t do much of anything right now unless Sophistus does it for you. Move, breathe—hell, you probably can’t even blink unless he makes you.”
Dark spots appeared in my vision. Colfax nodded to Sophistus, and a moment later I sucked air deep into my lungs. Everything the marshal said was true. I couldn’t use my arms or legs, couldn’t tell my eyes to blink or my throat to swallow. I could barely make my eyes move.
“Don’t bother trying to speak,” Colfax said. “You can’t.” He leaned back in his seat and let out the sigh of a man who’s about to do something he doesn’t want to do. “That is, you can’t speak unless Sophie wants you to.”
“Wench!” I shouted. The sound that came out of my mouth was strange to me. It was my voice, but deeper, more demanding. It reminded me of my father. I wished then that Ke’heops were here. He’d kill both these men without a second thought for what they’d done to me—for what they were about to do to me. For a long time now I’d thought my family was just about the worst thing to ever happen to this continent. I didn’t feel that way now.
Father, please! If you can hear me. Mother…Bene’maat, if you’re scrying for me, send Shalla. Do something before they make me—
“I’m out of wine, bitch,” I bellowed, my hand picking up my glass and pouring its contents on the floor. My voice was cold and full of menace to my own ears, but it was still my voice, even though Sophistus was choosing the words.
“I’m sorry, sir. I’ll bring you more right away.”
“You’d better,” I said. “Or I’ll rip that half-witted head off your shoulders and piss down your neck.” The last words came out in a pathetic squeak as the server left.
“Don’t go having so much fun you forget to make him breathe now, Sophie,” Colfax warned.
Air filled my lungs again, my ragged breathing hoarse and painful. Tears came to my eyes. Those were mine at least.
“The world sure is full of wonders, ain’t it?” the marshal asked. “I have to tell you, Kellen, I never have believed things are as cut and dried as good and evil. I mean, I see a lot of trouble in my line of work. People do things, Kellen. They do them for good reasons or bad reasons. But to be evil? To lack any real….Well, I guess you’d have to call it a soul. I thought all that nonsense was just some bill of goods sold by swindlers who made their living off superstition. But Sophistus here, he showed me different. See, ever since the days when there really was some fella called himself Saint Daebolus walking around, his followers been studyin’ the ways of bindin’ demons. All those wild shadowblacks from those Jan’Tep stories you must’ve heard as a kid? There’s a reason they never made their way into the Daroman empire. Abjurists like Sophie here, they’d spend their whole lives in meditation, learning the ancient demon binding ways.” The marshal leaned forward, peering into my eyes as if he could see the darkness deep inside. “That’s what he’s doing now, Kellen. He’s got himself a lasso around the demon inside your soul.”
The waitress returned with another glass of wine. My hand swung out and knocked it to the floor. “Stupid cow,” I shouted. “I told you I wanted water! What’s it gonna take to make you learn?”
“I’m sorry, sir,” she cried. “I’ll bring you water right away.” She practically ran into the arms of the older serving woman.
“Now, Kellen, was that really necessary?” the marshal asked, his voice loud enough to catch the notice of the other patrons. “You did order wine, you know.”
I tried again to break free, but it was like grabbing hold of mist; there was nothing to grasp, nothing to fight against.
Colfax continued more quietly. “Course it’d be great if Sophie could handle anyone who just happened to be mean, wouldn’t it? Take a load off my plate, I can tell you. But being mean or nice, or right or wrong, those things aren’t the same as evil. The shadowblack—now that’s evil. And that’s what you’ve got inside you, boy.”
Sophistus gave me a hungry smile, and Colfax patted him on the shoulder. “The reason my friend here is lookin’ so happy is that it’s been ten years since anyone from his order caught himself a proper shadowblack. Usually people with the disease remember to stay away from normal folks, or get themselves killed when they forget. Poor old Sophie’s one of the last of his order. Hasn’t had any business for ages. But now you’ve come along, with the markings around your eye just as sure as a magistrate’s verdict.” He reached across the table and took hold of my chin. “Go on now, Kellen. Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you’re a free man inside that body of yours and I’ll send Sophie on his way and you and me’ll be square.”
> I couldn’t. He knew I couldn’t, but he wanted to make me taste the bitter futility of trying. Instead I coughed, not because my body needed to, but because Sophistus forced me to.
“Right. Right you are, Kellen,” Colfax said. He looked towards the back door to the restaurant and the white binder turned my gaze there as well. The serving girl was taking a pail outside. “Time to get to business, isn’t it?” the marshal asked. “You’re a busy man. Lots to do.”
I stood up.
Sophistus closed his eyes, and I felt something change, just slightly, in the back of my head. I was still under his control, but now he was there inside me. When I looked again at the back door, I could tell the binder was in my head, watching through my eyes like they were windows.
“You got him, Sophistus?” Colfax asked.
I felt him nod. There was a strange excitement building up inside me. It’s him, I realised, horrified. He’s excited by all this.
Colfax looked up at me. “Like I said before, Kellen, it’s important to me that you remember that when we first had this talk, I asked you nicely.”
I felt my heart pounding as I struggled to gain control of myself, to shout or cry out or even fall to the ground.
“He’s figured out what comes next,” Sophistus said. I heard his voice first in my mind and then echoing in my ears.
The marshal rose and put a hand on my shoulder. “Sorry about this, Kellen. It’s just how it has to be.” He leaned in close, his lips almost touching my ear as he whispered, “You’re gonna wanna tell yourself that this is all Sophie’s doing, that you’re just a vessel he’s taken control of, but I don’t believe that and I’ll bet you don’t either. Some part of you, something that was already rotten long before you ever met Sophie or me or even got those shadowblack marks, something deep inside you must want this to happen.”
Again I threw my will against the binder’s. I had spent most of my life as a Jan’Tep initiate, learning to master my thoughts, to envision complex esoteric geometry without faltering, to bend the raw forces of magic to my dominion. None of that helped. “You must want this to happen.” The binder repeated the marshal’s words over and over inside my head.
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