The Binding (Chronicles of Azaria #1)

by Sam Dogra

  It was time I faced the truth.

  I turned to the last few pages. All that was left was the afterword. I wasn’t in the mood to read any more, but after a brief deliberation I made myself finish what I’d started.

  ‘Of all the intriguing mechanics of the Binding, one which has stunned scholars for centuries is how the spell has not waned despite its age. It remains irreversible, with no power to quell or quash it, and yet it keeps to its ancient law. It does not Bind more than once; it will only Bind those within close proximity who share an exchanged feeling; it Binds the partner who was not under its influence more slowly than the other; it does not allow others to protect one from a Binding as it will Bind them to the affected party, regardless if they are blood related; and if either partner attempts to flee, it will force them back together through the ailments of Parting or, failing that, turn both into Unbound—lifeless husks devoid of mind and soul.

  ‘I have hypothesized the spell must be immensely powerful to have persisted for over a millennia, as well as have a reach that encompasses the entire kingdom. Scholars have theorized the Binding magic must have a source in order for it to propagate as it has, although so far no expedition has been successful in locating it. Nevertheless, our investigations continue, and someday we shall uncover the truth behind the Goddess’s will.’

  That was it. I exhaled slowly, wiping my forehead. I wished I’d never bothered to leave the inn. Now I felt ten times worse. And that line, ‘…remains irreversible, with no power to quell or quash it…’. I shook my head.

  There wasn’t any way to undo a Binding. And sometime soon, I’d have to tell Ryan.

  Brushing my hair back, I closed the book and stood up. The scrape of my chair against the floorboards alerted Bergundy, who ambled out of the bookcases.

  “Everything alright, Elle?” he asked.

  “I’m finished,” I said, returning the book. “Thanks, it was more than I’d hoped for.”

  “A pleasure,” Bergundy said, tucking the leather under one of his sleeves. “Now then, would you like to view the gallery?”

  “I’m sorry, Bergundy,” I said, “but I’ve got a bit of a headache. I think I read a little too much. Maybe next time.”

  Bergundy didn’t make much effort to hide his disappointment; however, he managed a solemn nod.

  “A pity you are feeling under the weather, but I will not force you,” he said. “If you wish to visit again, look for me at the Scholar’s Quarters at the University. I’ll be more than happy to bring you back.”

  “You’re very kind,” I said, bowing. “Thanks for everything you’ve shown me.”

  “The honour was all mine,” Bergundy smiled.

  Soon we were back on the cold streets. The breeze was like a slap to the face, and I rubbed my ears as the scholar locked up. I bade him farewell, and we set off our separate ways.

  I made a slow trek to the inn, staring at my feet. The weight of my discovery had started to sink in, and I didn’t know what to do. The Binding was inescapable. I could pretend I could continue to resist, but I knew I was chasing smoke trails. Even if I could hold the curse’s infatuations at bay, I would still have to keep within half a mile of my partner to avoid becoming Unbound. If I had to keep that close to Ryan for too long, the Binding would destroy what remained of my resolve, and I’d end up in its thrall for the rest of my life.

  The unfairness of it all made my blood boil. I hadn’t asked for this. Heck, I’d actively tried to avoid it. But my worst nightmare had come true. My heart and mind were no longer my own, compelled by this unseen, ancient magic, and I was boxed in from every side. I couldn’t run, couldn’t hide, and the only way of escape was too final to even think about. I swallowed back a sob, as tears threatened to escape my clenched lids.

  I’d lost.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  ‘Her confession dried upon her lips, her heart too soft to say the words...’

  —Tale of the Binding

  As I returned to the inn, I was greeted by chatting voices. A group of patrons filled the armchairs by the fire, which had been rekindled to a crackling blaze. They sipped hot drinks and munched oat biscuits. My stomach growled, still affronted I hadn’t tended to its needs, so I grabbed a sweet treat and started to nibble. Anything to distract me from the hollow ache in my chest.

  “Good morning!” called the innkeeper, who was gathering empty plates. He was a broad-chested man with flecks of silver in his hair; perhaps a former Guardsman. “I trust you’re feeling better?”

  I swallowed my mouthful.

  “Yes,” I said, wishing it were true. I might be back to normal physically, but my mind remained heavy with the knowledge from the archives. I started to play with my scarf, hoping to dispel the numbness inside.

  “Glad to hear it,” the innkeeper said, dropping the plates and dusting his hands. “You gave us quite a scare, you know. Even our healer wasn’t sure what would happen to you.”

  “Sorry.” I hoped he would drop the conversation. I wasn’t in the mood to talk.

  “Oh, don’t apologise,” the innkeeper said. “From what I heard, you had a rough ordeal at the shrine. You’re lucky your friend ran into General Grants and brought you to us so swiftly.”

  “Yeah. I’m thankful.”

  At last the innkeeper seemed to get the hint. With a smile, he picked up his plates and left for the kitchens. Keeping my head down, I made for the stairs. My back felt tight and knotted, so I loosened my cloak. While the weight of the fabric disappeared, the burden of despair remained on my shoulders.

  With all options snatched away, there was only one thing left; a thought I’d buried in my mind since I’d first been Bound. Until now I’d run from it, clinging to my excuse I’d find a way out of the curse’s grip. But the harsh reality had caught up, and there was no escaping its bitter taste.

  I would have to tell Ryan the truth.

  My eyes prickled, so I paused on the landing. How would he react when he discovered I’d been lying from the start? Not just about the Binding, either. Everything about me was based on falsity. And though we’d become friends—tempered by the curse trying to push things—it would all change once he realised his feelings were not his own but the Binding’s compulsion. He’d never trust me again.

  I let out a shaky breath, pressing my hands to my eyes. It was too much. I couldn’t do it. Not when the fear and hopelessness were still so raw. And not when I couldn’t afford to lose Ryan’s friendship. I was a long way from home and a familiar face—I couldn’t stand the loneliness. Or his anger. But I knew I’d have to talk with him sooner or later. Only another twelve days stood between us and Viens, and the longer I kept the secret, the worse it would be when the time finally came to speak up.

  Regaining my composure, I wiped my cheeks and headed for my room. Ryan’s door remained closed, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Good, I didn’t want to face him just yet. Yawning, I ran a hand through my tousled locks and nudged open my door. A few minutes to freshen up, and then…

  I stopped dead.

  The room wasn’t as empty as I’d left it.

  Standing above the bronze basin in the corner, a small towel draped over his bare shoulders, was Ryan. His hunting knife lay on the table, flecked with foam. Dressed in his trousers and boots, he was rinsing shaving soap off his face, his eyes shut. Mine, on the other hand, were wide and staring. The glistening water droplets trickled down his neck, over his collarbones and onto the contours of his chest, following every outline of toned muscle. He was standing at just the right angle for the light to catch each shimmer of moisture. Absently I licked my lips.

  I so didn’t need this right now.

  “There you are!” Ryan removed the towel from his neck and dried his face. “Sorry for intruding, but my room doesn’t have a sink. How was your walk?”

  I tried to speak, but my mouth was dry. The Binding had sealed my faculties of thought, and my ability to move, too. And it was pretty obvious what held me in such rapt f
ascination. Inwardly I snarled. This had to be the curse’s most shallow offering yet. Come on, Eliza, look at the window, the curtains, the ceiling, anything else!

  Fortunately, Ryan soon put me out of my misery, as he wandered to the chair by the door and picked up his shirt. As he discarded his towel and pulled the fabric over his arms—those wonderfully sleek, muscled arms—my senses returned, and I dropped my gaze to the floor. My cheeks smouldered.

  “It…It was…fine,” I managed to mumble, slumping onto the mattress. My knees had turned to jelly, and my pulse raced. Though the whole thing couldn’t have lasted more than two minutes, I felt ill. I’d almost forgotten how powerful the curse could be when it was in full swing. I’d only have to get used to it.

  Ryan came over and sat beside me.

  “Is everything alright?” he asked, fastening the buttons on his sleeves. “You look a bit worn out.”

  I sighed, tangling my fingers in my cloak. Part of me wanted to blurt out the whole story there and then, but I held back, reminded of my reservations. I couldn’t count on Ryan being so sympathetic when he found out how deeply I’d betrayed him.

  “I didn’t sleep much,” I said. “I thought a walk would clear my mind but…” I shook my head. “It just gave me more to think about.”

  Ryan squeezed my shoulder, provoking a bout of tingling that raced down my spine. I stiffened, determined not to show a reaction.

  “There’s a lot going on we don’t understand,” he said. “But don’t worry. We were just unlucky to get caught in the middle of it.” I nodded, bunching my hands into fists. “In fact, General Grants wants to speak with us about what happened. We might be able to piece things together.”

  “Sounds like fun,” I muttered, unable to keep the edge from my voice. Like I cared about the stupid shrine anymore; trying to figure out what went on wasn’t going to change anything. And this was the last thing I expected from Ryan. He’d always been intent to stay on the move. Why was he suddenly so keen to stick around?

  “Eliza?” Ryan took my hand in his. I didn’t meet his gaze. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong!” I snapped, snatching my hand free. Immediately I regretted my action, as a hurt look crossed Ryan’s face. He was still within reach, but I was too scared to touch him again. Scared, or ashamed, a nasty voice mocked in my head.

  In a quieter tone, I added, “Sorry. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

  Ryan nodded. “Anything I can help with?”

  I started to wring my hands. “It’s…complicated. I need time to sort it out.”

  Ryan sighed, but said nothing more. I kept staring at my lap, until he rose from the bed and headed for the door.

  “Ryan, wait!”

  He paused at the threshold.

  “I’m…I’m sorry.”

  Ryan simply nodded.

  “It’s okay. I’ll meet you downstairs when you’re ready.”

  He closed the door, and I buried my face in my hands.

  * * * * *

  The Lanaran Guardsmen garrison was gigantic compared to the pitiful turret back in Bane. It had three parapets, a vast complex of barracks, a viewpoint tower and an arena big enough for an entire farming market. I shouldn’t have been surprised. After Terent, this was the biggest regiment in the North Territory. Still, its size intimidated me, so I kept my eyes on the ground as I followed Ryan to the main gate.

  We’d not spoken much since leaving the inn, although he’d been quick to notice my lack of walking stick. I kept the explanation short, pretending I’d met a good healer during my earlier excursion. He accepted that readily enough, though I doubted it was because of my newfound persuasive skills. Something was bothering him; so much he’d let slide such an obvious excuse. Coupled with his eagerness to meet the General, I couldn’t help but wonder if our run-in at the shrine was as coincidental as he claimed.

  “Halt!” called one of the guards. His shoulder armour rattled as he approached. Once he saw Ryan, his expression lightened. “Oh, it’s you. General Grants is waiting in the courtyard. We’ll take you to him.”

  Ryan nodded, and I waited by his side as they cranked the delivery entrance open. His sandy locks were a little dishevelled at the back, and it took all my willpower not to comb them down. Instead I wove my fingers in my scarf, where they wouldn’t stray. Inescapable or not, the Binding would have to try harder than that.

  The soldier escorted us into the snowy courtyard. The viewpoint tower rose ahead, surrounded by a series of buildings that separated it from the arena. Another three Guardsmen stood by the tower’s entrance, dressed in their colours of purple and silver. The tallest of the trio, a man with short cropped hair, also sported two silver bands on his arm; the rank of General.

  “Welcome, Ryan!” He extended his gauntleted hand. Ryan took it smartly. “Thank you for your message earlier.” The General turned to me, so I made do with a polite bow. “And Miss Eliza, it is good to see you restored to health. I am General Oscar Grants. A pleasure to meet you.”

  “The pleasure’s all mine,” I said, feigning cheerfulness. I just wanted to get this over with. “Thanks for everything you did to help me.”

  “You are most welcome,” General Grants smiled. “I am sorry you and Ryan became entangled in such matters. It was fortunate my scout troop was passing by and could offer assistance.”

  I tensed. I’d not realised just how lucky an escape I’d had. No wonder everyone was so uptight about my well-being.

  “Anyway, you will be pleased to know we managed to arrest most of the men responsible,” General Grants went on, “and they are awaiting judgement from the Jury as we speak.”

  I nodded, folding my arms around myself. Despite how close I’d come to being burnt alive, I only felt mild indifference towards the culprits. Perhaps because I was bogged down with my other, slightly more pressing concern regarding a certain curse…

  As if on cue, Ryan edged closer, his shoulder brushing mine. The Binding surged, promising warmth and comfort if I tilted forward half an inch, but I dug my heels into the ice. Even if I had to come out with the secret eventually, I’d do it on my terms, and not because the magic forced me into a compromising situation.

  The General noted my posture, and gave a sharp nod.

  “Come to my office,” he said. “It will be easier to discuss matters there.”

  We followed the General and his escort towards a rectangular building. Though the temperature had hardly improved since my expedition to the archives, the sky was overcast, and a nip to the air promised another blizzard soon.

  Briefly I closed my eyes. Even without my upcoming confrontation with Ryan, there were plenty of other hardships to enjoy. We had two possible routes to get to Viens, although both would mean hard nights in the open. If we took the North East Road, we’d shave off a couple of days to get to the capital, but it would require four days sleeping rough before we got to Darkdale. If we kept on the South Road, we’d only have to camp for one night as there were more villages around Dhjerba, though it would take longer to arrive at Viens.

  Glancing at the clouds, I knew which route I preferred.

  The soldiers held open the doors, and the General ushered us into a compact room. A desk overflowing with scrolls and maps took up most of the space, while the walls were lined with books on weapon craft. A shield hung above the General’s seat, bearing the now-familiar purple and silver stripes.

  “Please, sit,” the General said, taking his position behind the desk. Ryan and I sank into the creaky chairs, forced into a huddle as the office was so cramped. Our arms touched again, so I kept my gaze ahead, ignoring the twitch in my hand.

  General Grants reclined in his chair.

  “So, Ryan has told me most of the story,” he said, “but you were inside the shrine once the fires started, Eliza. Do you remember anything?”

  I folded my hands into my lap. If only I could forget.

  “Bits and pieces,” I said. “The men chased me through the trees aroun
d the ruins, so I had to go inside the main corridor, but they followed me. I overheard them planning to bring down the ring passages. So I hid in the sanctum, hoping to escape the smoke.”

  “And then you passed out?”

  I hesitated, wondering if I should mention the runes, then thought better of it. They’d never believe me, anyway.

  “Yes. It must’ve been the lack of air.”

  Well, it wasn’t like I was out of practice twisting the truth.

  “Interesting,” the General murmured. He sat up straight again and reached beneath his desk. He pulled out a bottle of black liquid, which had a red insignia on its neck. My eyes widened.

  It was the same mark we’d seen on the flametar bottle in Ruthwall.

  “I believe you may have seen this before?”

  Ryan and I nodded, almost in unison.

  “We found a store of flametar around a village not far from the shrine,” Ryan said. “The bottles had the same symbol on it.”

  The General gave a sombre nod.

  “I was afraid of this,” he said. “My men found a similar stock close to Darkdale after investigating a series of missed deliveries to the town. And all the bottles we recovered from the shine bear this emblem. It seems more people are involved in this than I thought.”

  He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

  “Astounding how they managed to transport so much flametar without anyone noticing. The Balthanders family are notorious for their security checks at Ornixa. Whoever fashioned this scheme is certainly well connected.”

  “But who would do this?” Ryan blurted. “And why would they go to that much effort to burn some ruins?”

  Despite my resolve to be cautious, I risked a glance at my Bound partner. His green eyes burned, hungry for an answer, and I was soon staring at the shield again. Amazing to think I’d survived that gaze when he questioned me in the Earthfire caves. Why was he so desperate to know?

  The General leant on his elbows, resting his chin on his hands.

  “So far, I have only part of an answer to that. One of the men questioned was surprisingly forthright, and claims to be a member of an organisation called ‘The Order of Amaranth’. He was very proud to take responsibility for his crime in their name.”