Chapter 29 – Forging Bindings
Zull and Zaphyr were in the middle of talking quietly when Vard reentered the barn, careful to shut the door fully behind him before loudly clearing his throat to garner the attention of the twins. “I have given you two more than enough time to consider our options. It’s nearly noon now. What have you decided?”
Zaphyr looked to Zull, who nodded once curtly. She then turned to Vard and said confidently, “We are going after Sir Kyr and the rest to try and rescue them.”
Vard ran a hand across his forehead, whistling softly as he did so. “I figured as much, knowing the two of you,” he said. “You both have kind and compassionate spirits. It speaks well to your character, but I hope that it doesn’t come back to hurt you someday.”
“Nothing evil ever came from kindness, Vard,” Zaphyr said. The bard looked like he wanted to respond to that, but he closed his mouth and simply shook his head. Zaphyr’s cat brushed up against her leg, clearly wanting attention. She reached down and scratched the top of its head. It purred loudly in response.
“Have you decided what to name it?” Zull asked curiously.
“‘It’ is a her,” Zaphyr replied as she cuddled her pet happily. “And when I think of a good name, then I will give her one.”
“Well, whatever her name is, make sure you bring her with us,” Vard said impatiently. “We need to get going; if we’re going to rescue our associates, we must do so before sundown. I don’t want to waste any more time.”
“Not yet,” Zull told him.
Vard crossed his arms across his chest, arching an eyebrow. “Why ever not?”
“Zaphyr and I have a plan we need to implement first,” Zull told him. Seeing the look of confusion on Vard’s face, Zull explained further. “Taking what I have learned from Sangue and combining it with what Gerok taught us, I’ve made the plans for a very simple blood binding, one that should be within both Zaphyr and I’s skills to create.” He pointed to a diagram he had drawn in the dirt between where he and Zaphyr were sitting.
“Lad, tell me that you aren’t planning on experimenting with abominations,” Vard said uneasily. “I truly appreciate the benefits of Sir Kyr’s vigor and resilience, but more than one of him is more than I could tolerate, I fear. That’s all besides the numerous moral issues, of course.”
Zaphyr looked like Vard had suggested they were planning on dissecting her cat. “No, nothing like that. What Zull has suggested is amazingly simple and ingenious. I’m surprised no one thought of it sooner.”
Now Vard was genuinely curious. “What exactly was your epiphany, Zull?”
“Blood bindings work on the very simple principle that a hemomancer’s power is perpetually invested in it, regardless of the distance between the binder and the one being bound. Therefore, to facilitate that investing of power, there must always be an ethereal connection of some kind between the two,” Zull explained. “I’m turning that connection into the purpose of the binding itself.”
“I’m not quite sure I understand,” Vard said, rubbing a hand on his temples as if to ward off an oncoming headache.
“This binding allows the hemomancer to sense the location of the person they are bound to at all times, regardless of distance. The plan is this: Zaphyr and I will create identical bindings on each other. That way, each of us will always know where the other is. Obviously, whoever wrote this letter intends to set a trap for us at that destination. They are counting on us heading there to save our friends, and on staying together to utilize our relative strength in numbers. So, we are going to surprise them by doing the very least thing they expect us to do: split up. One of us will head away from that location, to draw the kidnapper after them. Then, the other will head with you towards the destination, to rescue our friends. We can free Sir Kyr and the others, then, reunite and defeat our enemy. With these bindings, we will be able to keep track of each other and coordinate in ways we otherwise could not have.”
“That…might work,” Vard admitted, scratching his chin and staring up at the ceiling as he considered the plan. “Which of you will be taking which role, however?”
The twins’ gazes met. “I don’t know,” Zull said.
“We should flip a coin for it,” Zaphyr suggested.
Vard reached into one of his clothes’ pouches and withdrew a golden throne. “If the throne comes up, then Zull comes with me. If it is the Empress’ face, then Zaphyr.” He flipped the coin, watching as it spun through the air, then caught it smartly as it came down. He looked at it, then grunted. “Throne. Zull, you’re with me. Which means, Zaphyr, you will be on your own.”
Zull looked at his sister worriedly, “Are you sure about this, Zaphyr?”
Zaphyr gave a slight smile. “It’s too late to start worrying about the plan now, Zull. Besides, I was always the stronger of the two of us, especially when it came to hemomancy. This makes more sense.”
“I suppose so,” Zull admitted. “We both still need weapons, though.”
“I can provide my own weapons,” Zaphyr said confidently. Her cat meowed loudly, as if to affirm her statement, and she affectionately snuggled it.
“Then I suppose Zull and I will need to acquire weapons from somewhere,” Vard said. “And, if you two are quite satisfied, I would rather not waste any more time.”
“Hold on, Vard. We still need to forge the blood binding. Otherwise, this whole plan is pointless,” Zull said.
Vard crossed his arms, clearly frustrated. “Just do so as quickly as you can.”
“I don’t have the slightest idea how long this will take,” Zull confessed. “It is our first time ever attempting to make a blood binding.”
“Then let’s get started,” Zaphyr said eagerly. “What’s the first step?”
“We’ll each need some of our own blood,” Zull said. “Vard, do you have anything sharp on you? Like a knife, though preferably something smaller.”
Vard rummaged through his pockets, then pulled out a thin metal needle. “I used to sew and repair my own clothes while traveling the country,” he said. “Will this do?”
“Perfectly, I think,” Zull said. Taking the needle, he ever so gently pricked the tip of his thumb, then watched as a single drop of ruby blood welled up. He passed the needle to Zaphyr, who repeated the process and soon had an identical pinprick wound to her brother.
“Now what?” Zaphyr asked.
“We ‘paint’ the binding in our own blood,” Zull told her. “Wherever I paint it, the blood binding will be there permanently. Where do you want it?”
“The back of my hand,” she told him. “It’ll be easy to hide there. And the better we can hide it, the better chance we have of using it to our advantage as a surprise. Additionally, the detection will be between you and the binding itself, right?”
Zull pursed his lips as he thought. “Technically.”
“Then by moving my hand, you will be able to sense the change in the binding. We will be able to use hand motions to communicate, even over vast distances.”
“Clever,” Zull said. Reaching out his thumb, he used his blood to paint a small circle on the back of her right hand. Through the initial circle was smeared and remarkably crude looking, with a few thoughts he was able to refine it via his hemomancy, sharpening the shape into a perfect circle and even manipulating some of the blood to form a narrow band of runes running around the outside of the circle, so small as to be nearly illegible. Once he was satisfied that the binding was the proper shape, he motioned towards Zaphyr. Carefully, she spread her own blood on the back of his left hand. He used his own hemomancy to refine the shape and writing, as he had done before. He knew that Zaphyr, while far stronger than him, wouldn’t have the refined skills needed to create such a detailed and delicate shape using her hemomancy. What’s more, she hadn’t spent nearly a week drafting and memorizing the diagram for this specific hemomantic binding.
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“There,” he said, once he felt satisfied with the shape of both blood bindings. The blood still sat, smeared, on both their skins.
“So, what now?” Vard asked.
“Now comes the tricky part,” Zull told him. “We have to imbue a piece of our hemomantic energy into the binding.”
Vard raised an eyebrow in bemusement. “And how exactly does one accomplish such a task?”
“Like this,” Zull said. He reached out with his hemomantic senses, more finely and with more focus than he ever had before. He could feel all the blood in the room- the dried stain on the far wall, the crimson tides flowing through all their bodies, and, most importantly of all, the circle of his own blood smeared onto his sister’s hand. He brushed his mind against that blood, as he had done countless times before, but rather than simply try to use his will to manipulate and move the blood, he tried to pour that will into it, imbue the blood with his essence in a way he never had before.
At first, nothing happened, and Zull wondered if there was some crucial element or technique Sangue hadn’t taught him deliberately. Then, just as he was about to give up, he felt something give, like he had been throwing his shoulder against a wall that had abruptly collapsed, causing him to stumble forward. He felt a piece of himself slipping away, as if pulled by a great force. The blood on Zaphyr’s skin began to sizzle, smoke slowly rising from it. Zaphyr whimpered, clearly in pain. Vard stepped forward, but Zull raised a hand to stop him.
“That means it’s working,” he said, his voice dry and raspy. “Please, don’t do anything, until we’re finished.” Vard hesitated, then nodding once, stepped back, doing as Zull asked.
He continued the process until he felt subconsciously that the binding had absorbed all that it needed to function as intended. With a surprising amount of effort, he pulled himself away, severing the connection between himself and the binding. He stood up and walked to where Zaphyr had been sitting. The blood had completely boiled away, leaving a neat, clean black burn in the perfect shape of the circle and writing surrounding it. While it still looked raw and painful to the touch for the moment, he knew it would fade with time to take on the same appearance as the tattoo-like bindings on Sangue’s body.
“How do you feel?” he asked her.
“Much better, now that it’s over,” Zaphyr said, cuddling her mewling kitten as she spoke. “Did it work?”
“I’m not entirely sure yet,” Zull said. “Step outside, walk around the barn. Stop wherever you want, but don’t tell me.”
Zaphyr sprung to her feet and stepped towards the door, doing as Zull had asked of her. He waited until she had stepped outside, then closing his eyes, waited. While he and Sangue had created the binding to allow the twins to sense each other, they hadn’t gotten far enough in the theory to discuss what form that would take for Zaphyr and Zull. So, emptying his mind of all his thoughts and worries, he waited to see what occurred. He found himself being distracted by a faint buzzing in his ears, like a fly on his neck, which made him wince. He tried to push it away, before realizing what he was doing. Instead, he focused on that buzzing, honing it in, and found exactly what he was looking for.
Opening his eyes, he pointed towards the right wall of the barn, and said, “She’s standing there, about ten paces away from the wall of the barn.”
Vard snorted. “That would be impressive if it were true.”
“Go outside and check,” Zull told the bard, who after shrugging did as requested. He returned with Zaphyr, a mildly bewildered look on his face.
“You were correct, down to the number of paces,” Vard said. “Incredible.”
“It works!” Zaphyr said, clapping her hands with excitement. Zull couldn’t help but smile as well. Though it was a relatively small thing, even so, the victory that they had achieved here today meant a great deal to both of them- they had mastered a new element of hemomancy, one neither of them would have felt confident to grapple with a few short weeks previously.
“We need to complete mine next,” Zaphyr said. Zull explained to her how he had done it, and she set to work. Zull grimaced as he felt the blood slowly heat up on his skin and resisted the urge to itch. As the burning sensation grew from irritancy to agony, he bit his lip to keep from screaming, biting so hard his lower lip began to bleed.
Fortunately, the pain passed quickly, and he looked down at the back of his hand to a branded circle matching the one Zaphyr now possessed. “It’s not the most subtle, but with a glove, I could hide it with ease,” he said. “Is it working?” Zaphyr gave him a sharp nod. “Perfect.”
Vard, who was tapping his foot impatiently, cleared his throat as loudly as he could. “Well, I don’t mean to seem hasty, but our friends are being held hostage, and their kidnapper gave us a rather stringent deadline. It’s already well past noon, and if we aren’t there by sundown, they this will all be a pointless waste of our time.”
“We know,” Zull said, as Zaphyr scooped up her cat once more, clutching it tightly in her arms. “And we’re ready to go.” He handed Vard the note left by the captor, saying, “We’re following you, Vard. You seem to have the best head for directions.”
“All right,” Vard said. “We’ll head into the city, as planned. Once we’re safely in the city, and we’ve allowed sufficient time to pass that the enemy will have noticed us, then we’ll split up. They’ll send someone after Zaphyr, while Zull and I will head to this location.” Here, he held up the note, and they both nodded, knowing what he meant. “Any questions? No? Then let’s get going.”
The trio set out, leaving the abandoned farmstead behind for the second and final time. Zaphyr felt an odd sense of déjà vu as they walked back towards the heart of the city, feeling as if she was reliving the events of that very morning again. She clutched her kitten against her chest, so tightly in mewed in protest, wriggling frantically as it tried to work its way free.
“Things are different this time,” Zull whispered, knowing what his sister was thinking. “We know what we’re up against, and we have a secret tool they don’t know about.”
That thought comforted her, and Zaphyr released her cat, which crawled its way up onto her shoulder and perched there like some strange bird. She smiled at the ridiculous sight, and her smile cheered up Zull as well. Enjoy this moment while you can, a nagging voice at the back of his mind told Zull. After this, you’re going to be throwing yourselves into danger yet again.
Soon, they had returned to Veb, and as they made their way through the streets, Zull noted the crowds, which had doubled in size since their visit to the city that morning, as people enjoyed the heat of the afternoon mellowed somewhat by the cooling aftereffects of that morning’s rain. The streets were packed from building to building, and whenever a cart or horse rider tried to make their way along the thoroughfares, those on foot were pressed even tighter together to make way. They desperately fought their way through the crowds, trying to resist its pulls and tides as it shoved them this way and that. Zull started to wonder how they could even possibly hope to pick out the killers he inevitably knew were following them through this crowd. That’s the problem, isn’t it? he thought. In a crowd this size, it’s easy to lose any individual person, even if you knew what they looked like. But we have no idea what our opponent or his minions look like, and they have detailed descriptions for all of us. We’re playing a very tricky game. We want them to notice us, so we can trick them into following Zaphyr. Conversely, they most likely don’t want us to notice them, though they must surely know that we’re aware they are following us. The question remains, then, who will make the first move.
His question was answered a few seconds later when he heard a loud mechanical click, and, a few seconds later, the soft yet unmistakable sound of a bolt whistling overhead. He, Zaphyr, Vard and everyone else in the street looked up curiously and saw a metal quarrel fly by and bury itself in a sign swinging above a store. For a brief moment the crowd froze as they processed this information, then panic broke out, as screaming mobs of people tore in every direction, trying to escape what they each thought was an attack targeting them specifically. The crowd, which had filled the street to overflowing mere moment before, thinned out remarkably quickly as people practically crawled over each other to reach the assumed safety of a nearby building or another alleyway.
Only the twins and Vard stood their ground, watching as the crowd around them seemed to melt away. Soon, it was only them standing there along with their attacker. With the crowd gone, they could now see him clearly. He stood a few paces before them, wearing a long black coat and a broad-brimmed black hat. He had a long black beard which concealed much of his face, and beady black eyes. In his right hand, he held a crossbow loosely. The apparent clumsiness with which he grasped the weapon made it seem he was unfamiliar with the weapon, but the calm confidence of the rest of his demeanor belied that.
“Vard and the Tyrill twins,” he called to them, a statement rather than a question.
“What of it?” Vard asked.
“You must come with me,” the man said, his voice thick and guttural. “I will escort you to your destination.”
Whoever we’re up against is more paranoid than I thought, Zull thought. He doesn’t want to risk us doing anything he isn’t prepared for. He and Zaphyr’s gazes locked, and Zull nodded his head slightly. Without hesitation Zaphyr turned and sprinted away towards a nearby alley, still clutching her kitten to her chest all the while.
“Hey!” the man called angrily, trying to bring his crossbow up to aim and fire at her. But by the time he had the weapon ready, she had already vanished down a side street. His head jerked back and forth, looking from Zull and Vard to where Zaphyr had vanished, before apparently reaching a decision and running after Zaphyr, shouting incoherently as he did so. Once he disappeared, both Zull and Vard breathed a little easier.
“I cannot believe that worked,” Vard admitted under his breath.
“I’m amazed as well,” Zull said. “But it appears that, as carefully planed as our opponent is, he forgot to account for sheer foolishness.”
Vard turned sharply to look at Zull, his expression one of surprise. “You think what we’re doing is foolish? But you’re the one who came up with the plan.”
“Of course,” Zull said matter-of-factly. “If we are going to win this, it’s going to be through foolishness.”
“I hope you’re right lad,” Vard said as he dabbed at his face with a handkerchief. “I certainly hope you’re right.”