Forgotten (12 page)

“Sounds pleasant,” Kaie commiserated, half regretting this line of questioning. He didn’t want the other man’s life story.

“It wasn’t awful. Da started teaching me the trade when I was eight, and that got me away from her often enough. It wouldn’t have been a bad life, except Ma had herself a baby girl when I was about thirteen. Da wanted to keep me, of course, but she wasn’t willing to give up the drink and there wasn’t enough money to keep both of us fed. Da wasn’t going to toss me out to the street, like she wanted. So he did all he could to make arrangements to see me cared for, and let me pick. I could go to the whorehouse, or join the military.”

“And you picked this?” Kaie was genuinely surprised.

“Sure. Wouldn’t you?”

It seemed such an obvious choice. Judah clearly thought his way was by far the favorable option. He was looking to Kaie for agreement, maybe even confirmation, that he was right.

It made Kaie wonder if there was something he didn’t understand about the profession he chose for his mythical father. It likely wasn’t important. Not anymore. So long as he wore the Aulis, no one cared what he was before or where he came from. Still, it was odd. And, since he lacked the necessary knowledge to argue the point, there was only one option. “Yeah, I guess I would.”

Judah bobbed his head in commiseration of some common ground they now seemed to share. “So, you see, I’m different. Everyone else pays the price to be free. I pay them to stay free.”

“What in the Abyss is this price you’re yammering on about?”

The other man grinned and shifted forward, letting his arms dangle between his legs until his fingertips brushed the floor. “You’ve seen the brand we all get, right?”

“It’s on my back,” He was supposed to be a pain in the ass, so Kaie didn’t make any attempt to keep the bite out of his answer.

Judah’s smile turned into a smirk. “I suppose Gregor doesn’t let you see much of his back then, huh?
Interesting.”

It was a comment designed to get a rise out of him. Kaie couldn’t keep the flush from returning to his cheeks, but he didn’t give Judah the satisfaction of responding. After a minute the man gave up and, after a quick shrug, drew a circle in the dirt on the floor. He drew a second, larger, circle around the first, then a third around that one. Once he was done, he tapped the center of the first circle.

“Soldier.”
The second circle was next.
“Family.”
Finally, the last one.
“Empress.”

“Uh, ok?”

Judah chuckled and drew a line that started just above the third circle. Slowly, he dragged his finger through vertically, stopping when he reached the second circle. “Everyone who signs up is required to serve two years. Trying to leave before that is desertion, and there’s not a soul in all Elysium who won’t want you dead, Urazian or otherwise. After, all we have to do is tell our commanding officer. The first two years are the Empress’s price.”

He continued the line again, stopping when he reached the innermost circle. “The Family price is after four years. It’s why most of us sign up in the first place. As thanks for our service, the Empress allows us to choose four slaves we want free. It doesn’t even matter if they’re blood. Any four, no matter what their situation or who ow
n
s them.”

He drew the line through the center circle now, stopping when he reached the other side. “After six years, we’ve paid the Soldier’s price. We’re free. We can move back home or
anywhere else that suits our fancy. The women can take husbands – the official kind – and the men can be taken. The empire even starts paying us for our services, if we stay on.”

“Everyone?
Even if we don’t… serve?”

“Yup.
Even you.”

“Does that happen a lot?”

Judah shook his head.
“Gods no.
Most of us die long before we see a single iron penny.”

“What are the other three prices then?”

The other man smiled again. “Not prices, after that.
Commendations.
After eight years, we’re not soldiers anymore. We’re officers. Ten, we’re Rit. Twelfth Rit, to be precise” Judah drew another line, vertical this time, that started in the center of the first line and crossed through each of the circles. “Each promotion gains another line, one on any side, like a sundial. Each Rit earns more pay, more rewards. But it’s not about years served anymore. Each one has to be earned. Sometimes, one of us will earn it early, like our mutual friend. If I remember right, he made Twelfth Rit just about seven years in. It was quite the accomplishment. Set the capital all abuzz, as I understand it.”

Kaie tugged at the Aulis, truly looking at it for the first time in well over a year. He clutched the iron penny at the end between his thumb and his finger, holding it close enough to examine it. A crude sort of fist was stamped on one side. It was, he knew now, to mark the Aulis as Gregor’s.

The Ninth Rit earned himself the last name of Ironfist – one Kaie knew to be very accurate – sometime after earning his freedom. Anyone who obtained the rank of Tenth Rit was given an Aulis, which they could use to claim any slave not already wearing one. He could, in theory, walk into the Empress’s own bedchamber and claim one of her personal servants with the Aulis if he chose. Kaie suspected such an act wouldn’t lead to a long career, but there were no laws forbidding it. Anyone who reached Fifth Rit was given a second Aulis, and a third was awarded to the single woman holding the rank of First Rit.

He flipped the coin over. The back wasn’t stamped, but rather carved. Three circles, just as Judah drew, with all the lines needed to denote Ninth Rit. He noticed the markings shortly after the Aulis was first put around his neck, but he never gave much thought to them. Now they were significant. Some of them were the same as the scars he wore on the back of his right shoulder.

“So yeah.
I’m different. Never been true slave until the minute they put the army’s brand on my back. But I’m also a mage, and that factors in too.”

Kaie drew in a slow breath, fighting the urge to snap at the giant for this game. The man wasn’t wrong. Keeping track of everything was exhausting. And, despite his resolution not to trust this new, friendly Judah, Kaie felt himself slipping. The man oozed charisma, and it was much easier to take it at face-value than remember it was a front.

He just couldn’t figure out what the trap actually was.

“How have you been able to keep your magic a secret so long?”

Judah laughed and shrugged. “It’s not half as impressive as it seems. Most people, the ones that get caught at any rate, have elemental magics. Mine is terrestrial, like the Namers. It’s harder for people to notice, unless you’re using it on ‘
em
a lot. I try not to use it at all, but when I do it’s
Vin
.”

Kaie frowned. “I’m betting you think those are words, but all I’m hearing is gibberish.”

That won yet another laugh.
“Vin!
Magic of the body.
When I really get a person, figure out what makes them go, I can sort of… Well, take over for them. Make ‘
em
move the way I want. I’m not so great at it. Being good takes practice, and practice gets you Hollowed. So I can’t make much happen. Maybe get a shake going in your leg, or make your nose itchy. I might even manage to close up a small cut, if I really worked at it.
But some of those Namers?
I hear they could make you dance like you were on fire, if it suited them.”

“Ok…” He thought of Kissa and the way he lost control of his body when she murmured a few words.
“And terrestrial?
Like of the earth?”

Judah’s eyebrow quirked upward, and Kaie wondered if the question revealed too much of his ignorance. But, after a moment, the other man shrugged again and answered. “Elemental used to be the most common throughout Elysium. That’s where you get your earth, wind,
fire
and water magics. They all have fancy names, but you’d have to ask someone else about those. It’s illegal in the empire, so we don’t spend much time learning it. Terrestrial is worldly magic, tied to the native creatures. It’s where the schools of body, mind and spirit magics come from.
Vin,
Ya
and
Wer
.”

“And the Namers use this kind?” He thought for a moment.
“Mind, right?”

Judah nodded slowly. “That’s right.
Ya
.
And
Wer
.
They have to be masters of both. Some of them use
Vin
, too, but that’s not the important one.”

Kaie nodded as if it made sense. He wanted to ask a great deal more. Those were the magics that stole his memories from him. Whether he recovered them or not, he craved understanding of what was done to him. But he wasn’t going to risk exposing how little he knew about magic. Not to this man.

“So…” Judah suddenly grew serious, the exuberance from a moment before evaporating. Kaie almost let out a sigh of relief, seeing the hard man he recognized from their previous lessons return. “How did you beat the Namers?”

Kaie couldn’t help it. He laughed.

How long, he wondered, did the man mull over the decision to woo that information out of him? How many days did Judah come to the lessons, telling himself that
this time
he would be nice and convince Kaie to share, only to lose his temper before they even began? Kaie was certain, quite suddenly, that the giant even went so far as to say those very words
out loud before stepping into the garden most days. Certain, the same way he was certain Judah’s girl
was
going to betray Gregor.

That was why Kaie was getting this friendly act. He was trying to win Kaie over. That was the trap he was hoping to snap closed. Then he could go back to figuring out ways to
stab
a knife in Kaie’s back.

The giant scowled at him, no doubt furious for his laughter in the face of the man’s moment of vulnerability. “You don’t have a right to keep that trick,” the man grumbled. “Do you have any idea what it could mean to us? What a difference it would make? Even to Gregor’s plans! If we were safe from the Namers, we might actually stand a chance!”

Kaie made an effort to swallow his laughter and reassemble his serious face.
“Alright.
I guess I can share what I know.”

Judah’s eyes lit up.

“How much do you meditate?”

It was an idea inspired completely by Vaughan. It was nearly a year ago since the mousy boy was last on his mind, but lately thoughts of the kid kept creeping up on him. They were useful today, as the sum and total of Kaie’s knowledge of magic came from that boy.

Judah considered for a moment, tapping one finger against his chin, the very picture of thoughtfulness.
“Not much, really.
No one in my squad is likely to miss something like that, and I never really sorted out how to explain it. I manage to get in about ten minutes each morning. I tell ‘
em
I’m praying. No one questions that too much.”

He nodded, pretending it mattered. “That’s fine. Good. When the pain comes, you’ll need to go into a meditative state. Otherwise it will be too overwhelming, and they’ll have you.”

Judah’s right eyebrow tilted upward again.
“A meditative state?
Truly?”

“Yeah.
I don’t remember doing it before, but the people who knew me, they said I used to meditate all the time.” Vaughan said the exact opposite, the one time he ever asked about it, actually. “I managed to completely detach myself from my body when they were working on me. They might not need to master body magic –
Vin
– but they sure as Fate’s tits know how to make it hurt.”

“Alright… I’ll buy it. What next?”

“Then you have to pull the magic into you, let it fill you up.”

Feel the Jhoda, Bruhani. Feel life beating through your heart, tingling through every part of you. The Jhoda is the world’s lifeblood. You are its vessel.

Kaie half expected to hear the tentative knock on the side of the wall, see Vaughan’s head push into the room, hear the boy mutter apologies for interrupting. Hope wasn’t the word for it, but there was a part of him waiting for it.

“You have to channel more through you than the Namer is channeling. It’s a balance. Not enough to burn up, not so little that they can just rip through you.”

“How much, exactly?
How do I know when I’m at that balance?”

“I can’t tell you how to know it.” The man believed him. That was the goal, of course, but it meant that Judah believed there was a way to defend against the Namers, a way to fight them. Maybe there was. He managed, after all. But this was certainly not it. “It’ll be different, depending on the Namer and how hard they’re trying to pull you apart.”

“So, I just guess?”

He shook his head. “You’ll feel it. When you find the balance, the pain will recede. Not all the way, but enough that you can return to yourself.”

“Leave the meditative state, you mean? Isn’t that risky? What if the Namer’s just backing off on the power of their assault, to lure you out and overwhelm you once you’re vulnerable again?”