Kinsa's Binds Read online

  The MCS—Magic Current System—flows magic into these inventions and powers the infused etching effectively allowing them to function. For instance, the orbs inside my house are made possible because of light magic. When they are powered on, they become bright beacons encased in glass similar to disks. Those are potent, dangerous and illegal in most parts of the remaining world. Owning one is punishable by death here. Even if used properly, it has a high potential to kill the user and anyone in the vicinity.

  Our technology works more like tokens though: the purpose or spell is etched into the material it’s made from and usually, only has a singular purpose. However, magic is imbued into a token. Our technology must be fed magic to work.

  I sip my water and relish in its refreshing cold. Serenity streams into the remaining chaos of the day’s events. No doubt, a glass of cold water is nature’s cure for a troubled mind. It’s doubtful Povash will stop by tomorrow as we are closed, so Lesanna residing here overnight should be of no issue. The last bit of the liquid slides down my throat then I peer into the cooler. I don’t have a lot on hand, but I do have potatoes, tapa meat, and navas fruit. Mid-way through cooking the meat Lesanna steps out of the shower. Awkwardly, she attempts to cover herself with the two towels, and I can’t help but chuckle.

  “We cannot all be the size of a verda now can we?” The dig at my size straightens my back in an attempted rebuttal, but her smile returns my relaxed stance. At all of five-lenga-two with not much in the way of muscles, I’m nowhere near her height or build. “Oh Vala, what is that smell?” Her orange eyes light up, her nose sniffing around.

  Tapa are usually found between Kæn Fila and Bronaja. The gentle giant’s meat spoils rapidly so they can’t be transported far. Their smell is mouth-watering and, due to the bountiful harvest we have often, they’re cheap. It helps those of us who aren’t rich fill our bellies.

  “That, Lesanna, is tapa meat! I didn’t have much to cook with since I don’t go for a resupply until tomorrow. So, I prepared the easiest thing: tapa and potatoes. I even have navas fruit. It’s peeled, cored and sliced.” By the end of my speech, I am beaming. I may not be strong, brave, or anything resembling a Warrior, but I cook some of the best meals in Vetasa Quad. Or so I’ve been told. I motion her to sit and she obeys. It’s comical how big the Garde is. A blush creeps its way into her cheeks as she attempts to sit proper and not flash her private areas. “The meat will be a little bit longer. I’ll go check on the clothes.”

  “Thank you. Despite my threat, I owe you a thanks for bringing me to your home. If there is anything you need, please let me know.”

  She needs to not get you in trouble.

  Instantly, I shake the thoughts away. I should not be negative about this. It’s not ideal, but this is a chance to learn about Povani. Perhaps even document it in a book if possible.

  Yeah, right. You? Write a book?

  While Kæn Fila receives travelers, we do not have many records about life in other cities. I do not believe any such information is banned, but the books are not sought out. Taking the wet clothes, I hang them on the drying racks. All it takes is the flip of a switch for the room to heat up and dry them. I step out and close the door, noting the countdown already ticking away. They have self-timers ever since one man’s wife trapped him in there and murdered him by way of dehydration. A terrible way to go.

  “Say Myrl—what sparked your interest in books?” she calls.

  I slow my pace as I uneasily figure out my response. “Probably being raised in a bookstore. The fictitious stories of Warriors were enthralling, but I found our true history to be more so. I would one day like to travel to Povani and Sonam to find if our stories match up. I am not brave enough to go to Bronaja let alone Tupoto and Ledasa Island. Thieves and murderers...well it’s scary enough. But being on the ocean over Foena, staring into the unknown depths...I simply don’t know. So, I use books. Books know. Many have magic to whisk you away to these faraway lands.” By the time I’m done, my gaze is burning a hole into the ground.

  “Myrl, I have traveled more than most. Books can provide knowledge and ideas....but not experience.” My face twists with discomfort at her words so she quickly follows up, “Not saying they are bad. At least you are willing to learn. Books provide us a window to the past. Something we should always take care to remember.” Silence envelopes us. We both know what she means.

  Naos is the only living continent left. There used to be nine others. All but Naos used their resources greedily. We were the first continent and considered pure, especially with how we continued the practice of retan. Despite our example of returning what was taken, the others milled the magic from their trees. At first, the signs started with uninhabitable stretches of land. The correlation was not prominent. However, those patches grew in both size and frequency, forcing many residents to flee.

  No one searched for the reason behind their territories dying except the nearest continent: Ozan. In the direction of Sonnet the Hunter, Ozan is separated from us by Death’s Grip—a strait rumored to kill anyone who ventures across. Not that crossing it would yield anything.

  Back before Ozan fell completely, they saw the damage greed was causing. Stealing from their Mother Tree would’ve been fine if they allowed it to replenish. But as all the others had, so too did Ozan wither. Regions of Naos sent scouts to the far reaches of Teyzao to confirm a final report from Ozan about the other continents disappearing. Each had fallen to a nightmarish degree: they were sunk with their cities still intact. It was like they were swallowed whole in a flash.

  Many believe Asche, the Judge, despised what the others had done and requested Jura, the End, finish them. Vanatu, the Sea, also protected Naos from whatever escaped those continents by sending ancient creatures into the surrounding waters. I personally don’t know what is fiction. All that matters is keeping history from repeating itself.

  Hopping out of my seat, I set the finished meat on my cutting board. I dish up a handful of potatoes then one piece of tapa meat for me and two for the Garde. All the while I’m humming the lullaby of Nuo.

  “I love that tune. My mother sang it to me any time I had a nightmare.” A fond smile graces her lips as she takes the plate from me.

  “Povash’s mother sang it to me when I was little. I lived in his room since he was the one who bought me, but he never knew how to deal with my restless mind. Buying a servant with one’s savings doesn’t qualify someone to take care of their new property.”

  Lesanna’s stare weighs upon me.

  “One night, his mother came in and sang to me. I was young, five years old I think. It worked like a charm and afterwards, we made it routine. At fifteen years old, Povash chose not to follow in his family’s business. Because he has three older brothers and two younger sisters, his parents accepted. He took over for a cousin who owned this shop and had recently died. I was brought with.” Her stare still tingles my skin, and I freeze for fear of seeing the pity in her eyes. If there is one thing I hate, it’s such a melancholy emotion filling someone’s eyes. I should not be pitied. I have it good compared to many children who were sold.

  “So, you are a slave?” Her tone is dry and completely unexpected.

  Swallowing a delicious bite of the meal, I finally manage to lift my gaze.

  But I don’t find pity.

  I find anger.

  “I am not. Not the way most consider it. I learn, I’m given my own place,” I pause and motion to our surroundings, “and I have never once been abused. I have done chores and the like, but that’s house maintenance that anyone who lives and breathes must do. Once I own this place—once it is truly mine, I will be able to live freely. Povash verbally granted me freedom a long time ago, but it doesn’t matter until I have a way to live for myself and not rely on what was given to me.”

  Lesanna stares me down, and a flare of defiance keeps our eyes locked. She cracks a smile and the thick air dissipates. “Fine, little one. I will not fault your owner. Just know that I detes
t the slave trade. Where I am from, people do not buy others.”

  “What is it like in Povani? I assume you’re from there given your tattoo.” I incline my head to her left shoulder. The markings indicate she is a Warrior. Whether you’re a spy, diplomat, or even lowly Legionnaire, whoever has your loyalty brands their symbol onto your left shoulder. To remove it is a death sentence in almost every city minus Bronaja.

  With a sigh, her fierce eyes change from angry to reminiscent. “It is nothing like here. I am sure you have heard Povani is purely female, yes?” I nod, and she continues. “Well, I have my wife there. She is in the Department of Science and Progress. I never can really grasp what she talks about when she comes home, but she is always exuberant about it. We are free there,” she pauses and I catch her quick glance at me, taking the obvious hint. I simply shovel another bite of food in my mouth. “We have many different departments, but we try to focus on bettering people—males included.”

  “So...what about bookstores?”

  “Well, we have libraries if that is what you mean? They are places with huge collections of books but you simply rent—not buy—them. When you are done, you bring them back. And by huge, I mean a minimum of ten times the amount you have downstairs,” she says with a shrug.

  “Wait—how much does it cost to rent? I’d imagine it to be extremely expensive.” The idea boggles my mind. Images of thieves stealing away the precious items crowd my thoughts.

  But imagine! All those books! All the shelves! A lifetime of knowledge if not more. Can anyone learn so much?

  “It is free for all residents. We pride ourselves—as does Sonam—on having well educated people. You do not freely have access to information here?” Her brows furrow and she takes another bite then stares at me expectantly.

  I think she knows the answer because the instant I shake my head, her expression is not one of surprise. Maybe our reputation leaves much to be desired. “I am informed thanks to the collection of downstairs. Povash lets me read a lot. Unfortunately, most people don’t have access to schools or books—that’s for the rich near the central areas. I’d wager anyone within the Undesirable range doesn’t even know how to read.”

  “Undesirable range?”

  “Yes. They are the most impoverished and the seediest. Majority of the thieves within our city’s walls reside there. There was a time when the area didn’t exist, but about nine years ago, homes were cast out of the MCS. They had stolen from the currents we all draw from, crippling businesses and homes. It took officials a little while to discover what was going on, and when they did, the authorities took action. Since the offenders were born and raised in Kæn Fila, the Leader was merciful and allowed them to keep their houses. Any who were directly involved were sentenced to life imprisonment. Their families were cut off from the MCS.”

  “That is terrible. Why would they leech a system if it would cause such turmoil everywhere?” She shakes her head and finishes her plate.

  In truth, I have no idea why they did it.

  Greed probably.

  I stand to take care of our dishes, but she raises a hand in protest. “I have this.” Lesanna’s voice is commanding, and it refreshes my curiosity for her presence in Kæn Fila.

  Amusement tugs my lips into a smile at the towels’ individual rebellion against their assigned positions. “Then I’ll grab you a sheet to cover up with. Wacene be quick.” I return momentarily with the sheet and tidy up the table while she completes her task.

  “You know, I have to return to Povani within a couple days. I was planning on leaving tomorrow. If you would like,” she pauses before turning her tone motherly, “you could come with me. I have a friend in the Department of Knowledge and Learning. Perhaps you could work there....though with your powers—"

  “You can’t tell anyone about those!” I yell unintentionally, slamming my chair back into place. My heartbeat pounds in my chest. At age fifteen, I was scanned for magic. The process was brutal, and yet, nothing was revealed though I’ve been able to cloak myself since age nine. No one knows. Not the guards. Not the baker across the way I eat from every day. And certainly not Povash.

  Lesanna stands frozen, appearing slightly shocked. “I assumed....since you used them openly…” Her eyes cast down then she resumes her task. Guilt settles in my heart. She sounded dejected and was only trying to help.

  “I’m sorry. I haven’t shared this before.” My admission is empowering. Someone knows now. At least now, if the Leader uncovers my secrets, I won’t disappear with this burden weighing me down. Cloaking is nearly unheard of. Only the minds of Tupoto might know what kind of power it is or which god to pray to for guidance.

  “I am sorry too. You are very relaxed when you use your gift. How long have you had it? If you don’t mind me asking.” Lesanna’s curiosity is evident in her voice. I don’t know what cloaking knowledge Povani has a hold of, but I’d imagine little to nothing.

  “It’s okay. It’s...nice to have someone to talk to about magic. I’ve had it for fourteen years. When I was young, most of my spare time was spent learning how to control my powers.” I bite my lip in regret and think about the other gifts. If Lesanna saw, she chose not to comment. “Are you a magic user too?” Part of me prays she is. To witness magic is rare nowadays. At least in Kæn Fila. The Leader keeps users within the confines of his central building. People whisper about the living conditions and treatment. I shudder. The rumors draw a picture much worse than being owned.

  She laughs—actually laughs—at my question. It was an innocent question, and I know some Gardes wield magic. “No. No, I am not. If I was a magic user, I would not be allowed here.”

  I gasp, an instinctive distrust planting seeds of doubt in my mind. “Does Povani lock up their magic users too?” Povani was supposed to be a nice place full of good people. I had hope it wasn’t as bad as this place.

  Since when is this place so bad? Are you really interested in leaving? You’d get eaten alive.

  “Not at all. In fact, most travel. I should have phrased that differently.” The Garde’s right hand nervously rubs the back of her neck. “I meant to say the Council would not assign me the job I am doing....not with a skill like yours.” With an apologetic smile for mentioning my magic, she carries on. “Before you ask—I shall simply answer. I am here collecting information.”

  “So...you’re spying?” My face must be displaying the ‘Nobu does not sway me’ expression I wish it to because she barks a laugh.

  “No. I am here in an official inspector capacity. I am gathering information on goods we might like for specialty provisions. But I do worry about rumored shady business practices.” I follow her line of sight to the sofa, not believing a word she says. The sheet I provided clings to her in discretion. Sadly, the clothes won’t be done for another thirty shades or so.

  “If you’re tired, I can grab blankets? You’ve got to be exhausted by now. Warming up and resting will do you some good.” A yawn interrupts her response, bringing out laughter from the both of us. “I’ll pull out the bed. It’s not long but it should work.” Povash bought this bed ‘just in case’ a friend needed to use it. He really is a good man. I grab the tech for controlling the bed movement while Lesanna moves the short table out of the way. At my input, the sofa cushions slide up and the couch arms lengthen. The frame of the bed forms as the cushions slowly expand into the mattress. Due to the transformation, the Garde’s mouth is stuck agape when I turn around.

  “Does Povani not have these?” I know of the regions, Vishtu—my region—is the most advanced with technology. However, I don’t see why this marvel wouldn’t be widespread by now. It saves so much space!

  Maybe they don’t understand how ingenious this is! Perhaps you should create an imprint and show it off to foreigners! Joking. You’d be locked away in nothing flat.

  Ha. Yeah, I’d rather keep my freedom.

  “None that I have seen. Is it like a magic token?” Her hand runs along the recently shifted bed, catch t
he blankets I toss to her with ease.

  “It is but it isn’t. The controller works similar to a cooler with magic being imbued; we connect it to the MCS to provide it energy. It will retain a charge of magic for a time. They are also highly coveted since some people discovered how to siphon the magic they contain. Though,” I turn to her with an incredulous face, “—the people who try usually lose a limb.”

  She is silent with contemplation, charging the air with awkwardness. I rub my hand around my wrist, unsure of what to say or do. “I’ll uh—be in my bed. If you need anything.”

  I DID NOT SAY THAT!

  Flames heat my cheeks, and she cackles. “I—uh—you—Oh, to Those Before Us! You know what I meant!” Thoroughly embarrassed, my room becomes a hideaway. I accidentally left the lights on, but nothing besides an emergency will get me to return. Under the moonlight streaming in through the windows, my bed glows with invitation.

  You deserve rest. Today was unusually stressful.

  I acknowledge the rare softness in my mind, but ultimately decide to follow routine.

  In my washroom, I grab a teeth cleaning magic token then snap it in half. The silver magic floats into my mouth, and a tingling sensation covers my gums. Pop! My mouth relishes in the refreshment. I check the mirror, grab a skin cleaning capsule, crack it open in my hands. Pink mist pools in my hands until I push it gently towards my face. Prickles of lightning followed by caresses of wind leave me with a sanitized face that glows with youth.

  You seem different.

  Although it’s the same face staring back at me, I can only agree with myself. Perhaps it’s the uptick at the corners of my mouth, the life coursing through my cheeks, or even the light not found in my eyes since I was a child. I exit the room and snuggle under my blankets. All of it matters not; I’m happy for the changes.

  Imagine that—me being happy.