“We must begin.” Emet said, “We will start…with your dress of runes. You already know of the strength rune. There are others… Image, repair, bind… It is a very complicated dress.”
Now that they had been pointed out to her, Î could make out several of the symbols Emet had mentioned. She pointed to them with her fingers.
Emet’s eyes widened, “Where did you learn these?”
“Lanet taught me the symbols!” Î said proudly.
“The art of kinesics… deals in runes, not symbols. As for Lanet… does Lord Glove know of his teachings?”
“Um… I think so.”
Î brushed a ball of mud from her knee while she waited for Emet’s reply. She had become far less frightened of mud after learning how to wash her dress. Lord Glove said the dirt still wasn’t good for her dress, but by the time it wore out he’d be able to replace it with a dozen others.
“I will need time… to think about Lanet. Now… your dress. It has lost its power… or never contained any power at all. The symbols are masterfully done. As… they must be. Should a symbol… be drawn incorrectly its effect would be opposite.
“Gather a sheet of wood, a copper inscription tool, and… vial of blue ink.”
Emet’s ragged lips pressed together and stilled as if they had never been apart. Î spent the better part of an hour looking for an inscription tool. She wasn’t even sure what inscription meant. She grabbed dozens of copper tools, but none of them felt right. Emet didn’t respond to any of her questions. Finally, she settled on a hooked copper implement simply because it was shinier than all the others. She found the ink much faster. In one corner of the room, behind a ring of dead beetles, was a shelf covered in ink bottles. Emet hadn’t specified which shade of blue to grab, so she took one which matched the colour of the runes on her dress. On her way back to Emet she found a stack of boards leaning against a large coil of rope. She grabbed one of the boards in her free hand and dragged it along behind herself. Once all the materials were gathered in front of Emet the wall surged into motion, once again a living thing, “Good. Remove your dress… and place it on the board… Flat.”
Î was reluctant to remove her dress. Partially because of the cold, and partially due to embarrassment. Emet stared impassively down at her, which didn’t help.
“Do I have to?”
Emet didn’t reply.
Î glanced behind her to make sure no one was watching. Hundreds of eyes stared back, but most of their owners were dead, so that was fine. Î also decided Emet didn’t count because she was a wall. Emet was also a she. That didn’t help, but it made her easier to think about. Î pulled off her dress. She felt her face flush, and goosebumps rose all over her skin. The workshop was freezing! It was hard to remain embarrassed when all she could think about was getting warm again. She looked up at the wall expectantly.
Emet continued as if she hadn’t noticed Î’s hesitation, “Now… what did Lanet teach you? Which runes do you recognize? Which do you remember? Name them all…”
Î studied her dress, “S-strength,” she said, shivering, “Bind. Repair, th-that’s the interlocking circles, r-right? And that’s all I c-c-can remember r-right n-n-now.”
“Good… the small rune… yes, the one under your hand… is named Image…” Î traced her fingers along the blue lines, “Dip the inscription tool in the ink. Now… trace the strength runes.”
Î dipped the hook of the copper rod into the blue inkwell and pulled out a single drop of ink. Then, tongue clenched between her teeth, Î traced the first rune. She ran out of ink less than a quarter of the way through. Once again she dipped the inscription tool and maneuvered it across the cloth, holding her breath as the drop wobbled along the surface of the tool, threating to escape and stain the fabric.
This time she got much further, and a third pass completed the rune. Î stood and stretched her arms. She had been concentrating so hard she’d forgotten how cold she was. The tips of her fingers were turning blue and her shivering had become uncontrollable. She began to jog on the spot.
“Can I use a brush? That’s what I did with Lanet, it’s quicker.”
“The correct tool must be used. Copper is receptive… A trait which can be dangerous in a golem… but is useful now.”
Î’s fingers began to tingle. “Why?”
“Continue your tracing. We may talk as you work.”
Î sighed. She had just started getting warming again. She crouched back down above her dress and began tracing a second strength rune.
Stale air tickled her back as Emet spoke, cooling her even further, “The dress, written in copper… will learn your desires and adopt to your needs. It will, in time…act as an extension of your will.”
“W-w-what does th-th-that m-m-mean?”
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“If you wished… to run. It may become shorter or wider. If you wished to ride… it may split along the sides.”
“I c-c-could m-make it look l-l-like whatever I w-wanted it t-to?” Î imagined her dress turning into an elegant gown and then into a suit of armour.
“No…”
Î frowned.
“The dress… must learn. Materials cannot change. There are… limitations. However… the longer you wear the dress… the more it will act as you would have it; the more it will act like you.”
Î finished the second strength rune and began tracing a third. Emet let out a satisfied sigh, “You learn quickly. And your arm is steady… like Rebeka’s. You even look like her.”
Î stopped to warm herself again. She thought of the old woman she’d seen nailed to the tree, “I do not!”
“Girls must learn… adults forget… the old were not always old. Rebeka died at almost eleven time seven years, but she came to this dom at 19 and her training began earlier than yours.”
Î finished her third rune and began to trace one of the looping repair runes.
“R-R-Rebeka wasn’t f-f-from G-Glovedom?”
“Rebeka was not from this dom, neither was she from any… about which you have heard. She was from the coast. A place where water does not end. Her father… a fisherman. Rebeka dearly missed… the sound of father tiptoeing across creaking floorboards in the morning… looking for his shoes,” Emet released a rumbling chuckle, dirt fell from the ceiling, “his shoes… were too small, and he would curse… as he pulled them on, waking his family every morning without fail.”
Î giggled, “Why d-didn’t he m-m-make new sh-sh-shoes?”
Air rushed into the gap between Emet’s lips as though the golem was drawing in a breath, “Her father did not have… the material to make shoes. Leather was scarce, and her village had… no money. Lord Glove changed that. Back then, he was not yet a lord. The art of kinesics was known only… by Rebeka’s people. Glove promised them… riches and prosperity in return for the knowledge of her people. They could not teach him, but they offered to give him one… vested with their knowledge. Glove payed them in leathers and silver coins. In return… he was given Rebeka.”
Emet droned on about Rebeka’s people, about the wonders they had created, and their second art of alchemy.
“There are seven states of matter. Airy… misty… fug… wet… damp… squishy… hard… These make all things…”
Î was only listening with one ear. She’d been writing for hours and her neck and hand were beginning to cramp. Fortunately there was only a single image rune left to trace. Î hastily sketched out the rune and then stood to stretch.
“Alchemists and kineser long noted these states… worked in combination with seven constituents; poison… life… cold, hot… strong… pure… fibrous. For instance… a snake. It is constituent of poison… Its matter is squishy. Take poison from fungus… Take squishy from a rotten grape… two essences combined… a form emerges.”
Emet saw Î was done, “Ah… Your task is complete. You may put your dress back on.”
Î pulled the dress back on and was immediately grateful for its warmth.
“Go… we are done for today.”
It was dark by the time Î made it to the top of the stairs. She staggered over the last step and collapsed with a groan. She lay there for several minutes, getting back her breath. Î flipped over onto her back and sat. She noticed for the first time that there was a large man in front of her, facing away. She didn’t think he’d noticed her, and so she took the time to study him. His arms were outstretched with a spear held horizontally between them. One of his legs was planted on the floor, the other stuck straight out in front of him.
Î struggled to her feet and walked up beside him to look at his face. His nose was scrunched like a wrinkled blanket, his tongue was clenched between his teeth, and one of his eyes was closed. Î had never seen such a silly expression on a grown man’s face. She laughed, “What are you doing?”
The guard started and fell over, almost impaling himself with his spear.
“I was just practicing my balance, ma’am,” the guard’s ears turned red, followed by his cheeks and forehead. Soon his entire face was red except for a small halo about his squashed nose.
This caused Î to laugh again, “Why?”
He pushed himself to his feet, “Well…uh, never thought about it really. Just wanted to be able to stand upright is all. Thought I could work my way up to standing on one leg with eyes closed. Not sure after that. Maybe one day I’ll stop sticking out my tongue.”
He stared at the overcast skies wistfully. A cold wind began to rise. Î welcomed it after her run up the stairs, but the guard tugged his cloak closer around him.
He threw back his cloak a moment later to stick out his hand, “I’m Gar,” he said.
Î shook it politely, like Lanet had taught her, “I’m Î.”
Gar put his hand back inside his cloak, “It’s a cold one. You must be freezing. All you’ve got is that dress.”
Î shrugged. Then shivered. The wind was starting to get to her now.
“Poor girl, you need a cloak of your own.” He pointed at her dress, “It’s no wonder you’re cold. You’ve got a hole.”
Î looked down. The guard was right. There was a small circular hole just above her waist on the left side. Î had spent all day on her dress and it was already ruined. She poked at it miserably. To her surprise she felt soft velvet instead of bare skin. She ran her finger over the hole and found the cloth unmarred. A piece of the dress wasn’t missing, it was invisible!
Gar had noticed, “Real life kinesics! You’re a natural.”
“Thank you,” Î said. It felt inadequate, but she didn’t know what else she was supposed to say.
“’Course the real miracle is that you’ve managed to keep it clean in all this muck”
Î could feel the mud weighing down her dress, but for some reason it was also invisible. Î smiled instead of trying to explain it. She liked getting compliments on her dress.
Gar laughed, “Just like me missus says. No more beautiful sight than a smile. She’d also have my ear for keeping you here when you probably want to go to supper. Go on now.”
Lanet always invited his friends to supper. Î decided the guard would make a good friend, “Want to come?”
Gar sighed, “I’m supposed to stand guard, is all. Not that I wouldn’t love to come.”
Î’s face collapsed. What had she said wrong?
“`Course,” Gar hastily amended, “there’s no point guarding this here shack if you aren’t down there.”
Î beamed at him. The two began walking. Î reached up and took Gar’s hand as she had Lanet’s. Gar looked down. The corners of his mouth lifted and he gently wrapped his fingers around her own.