Chapter 8

Kneeling beside me, Myta studiously schooled her features, pretending that her eyes weren't red with suppressed tears. I ignored the wetness of her cheeks, just as carefully. In truth I was quite surprised at her intense reaction. My fire touched **** barely knew me, for all that her spirit was bound to mine. A part of me thought she should be grateful for a chance to be freed from my influence. I was healing her, aiding her, but she had little beyond my word to tell her that. And were I in her place, I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t embrace **** over this kind of servitude.

*It is your bond.* Ket spoke into my mind, her rumbling voice soothing my racing thoughts. *Vas feel trust for their veth, as veth feel their authority over their vas. She belongs, with you and to you.*

“Yes.” Myta’s voice surprised me. I certainly hadn’t expected her to hear Ket’s words. But perhaps even more jarring was the tone of happiness and relief in her voice. “Belonging is exactly the right word. I do not know what vas or veth are meant to mean, exactly, but it whatever is between us feels… right.”

*Veth is binder, one who binds. Vas is one who is bound.* The spirit was amused again, something I felt was going to be happening often in the foreseeable future. Given that she was explaining concepts she clearly felt we should have known by the time we learned to walk, I’d take amusement over frustration or condescension. *Humans complicate that which is simple. I will try to explain, but do not overthink these things. What is, is.*

“But wait…” I felt a moment of realization hit me. “Myta and I are bound now, and the binding is influencing our feelings toward one another. But before, when we were not yet bound, I acted strangely. I felt an urgency I could not explain.

“Normally, I would not have taken the risk Myta brings to my life,” I cast her an apologetic glance before continuing. “More than that, I could have taken extra time to ensure I was in better condition, better prepared to treat her sickness. Instead I rushed to bind her, and practically fled the city after. Was something else influencing me then?”

*I… am not aware of such an influence.* I felt a flicker of anger from Ket, although it was not directed at me. I expected her to continue that thought, but she cut it off with a growl.

*Strengthen your vas. You will need to rely on her soon.* Without another word, the golden leopard was gone, leaving the smell of blood and incense in her wake. I stared into the distance blankly, wondering why she might be so upset at someone manipulating me. Perhaps she simply took her role as my guide that seriously, but her anger had felt more personal somehow.

“Master?” Myta’s voice drew me back to her. “How can I help you?” I knew she was thinking about the spirit’s parting words. More than that, she was affirming her place with me. Her expression was calm, but I felt that her mood was somewhat defiant. As though daring me to reject our connection now that we knew more about it. I felt a new wave of possessive desire pass through me. Even if it was due to our bond, even if our joining had been orchestrated by forces unknown, she was mine now. I had seen the beauty of her soul, decayed though it currently was, and I coveted it like a miser covets gold.

“First, we need more traveling gear. Then you’ll watch me work, and we will see how you perform as my assistant. After we leave the encampment, I’ll test your other skills. What fighting style did you learn from the Pure monks?”

“The path of the sun’s ray,” she replied, expression softening into a warm smile. Either my words relaxed her, or she felt a shadow of my emotions as I thought I’d felt hers. It could have been my imagination, but given the way Ket had communicated with us I had hopes of speaking with Myta directly through our spiritual tether. As easily as we could share dreams it seemed well within our reach.

“A good path for your aspect. Help me keep an eye out for a good spear for sale in town. We might see one if we’re lucky.”

With no further delay we broke camp, the sun just cresting the horizon. The camp’s gate opened well before dawn, but my spiritual jaunt had delayed us. Fortunately the camp was not too heavily populated, and the dirt paths winding through the rough wooden buildings were not terribly crowded. I spoke with a couple of traders, obtaining a crude hunting spear for my companion. Not ideal, but better than nothing. I was able to replenish a very small measure of my stock of herbs. Gerid had already sent his agents to buy those that were available at the settlements near to Kuru. It was unfortunate, but couldn’t be helped. I’d needed those herbs to treat the sick of the city.

I checked in with camp’s leader, a small man who had the disposition of a hungry bear, and a generous heart. It didn’t take long to find out that quite a few in the camp had the viridian contagion, and we quickly worked out a deal for me to treat them in return for some trade goods and supplies. I’d save my medicines for Myta, and those most severely impaired by the sickness. While they were helpful for recovery, my skill in drawing out the poisoned mana was not dependent on the mundane treatment. I’d feed the more hale locals some simple herbal teas as a cover for my sorcery.

A few discreet inquiries told me that an odd group had visited the camp a few days before the contagion appeared. They were foreigners with white skin and light hair, dressed in hooded robes. None of that was especially odd really, Ramana encouraged travelers from all across the shattered lands, a stark contrast to many other kingdoms. More visitors meant more trade, wealth, and knowledge entering the land. What was odd however, was that this group stayed a full day. And though they talked to almost everyone, they didn’t attempt to buy or sell any goods. In a city like Kuru, that behavior would have gone unremarked upon, but in a smaller camp like this people spoke to one another about such things. The group in question had headed south along the low road, traveling toward Bani just as I was doing now.

My business took me until late afternoon, and we left the camp for my cart with a couple of hours of light remaining. I’d arranged for my patients to begin visiting tomorrow morning, which left me a little time to tend to other matters. Setting up the new tent I’d purchased went quickly, and I noted that Myta was not only speaking much more easily, she had also recovered much more physical stamina than I’d expected. My mana and medicines combined could dramatically aid that, but this was a bit ****. I would have expected her to be weak and easily exhausted for weeks, even with my help. Her voice should not be recovering much at all without her speaking a great deal more than she was.

When our camp was set, we retired to our new shelter. I’d been fortunate in finding a large, pavilion style tent. Large enough that I would be able to use it as a mobile treatment center. It was something I’d been considering for some time in any case, as not needing to rent a large, private space to practice would be a boon. These were difficult to set up alone however, so having Myta to help was already increasing my options. I had her strip down, so that I could give her a proper examination.

The woman was in poor condition, but not nearly as poor as she should have been. Already I could see that she was putting on weight, building flesh back onto her recently emaciated frame. Though this was the first time I had truly examined Myta, I’d half-carried her to my cart only two days ago. She’d barely had scraps of flesh covering her bones then. Now she was, certainly not healthy, but far less wasted. More than that, she had put on a layer of healthy, toned muscle. Which was even more inexplicable, as she’d had no real exercise over this time.

“Master?” Myta’s voice shook me from my stupor. My fingers had been tracing the muscles of her back while my mind tried to resolve the oddities. I grabbed a cloth, dipping it into the bucket I had prepared. Warm water, and a mild astringent to clean her skin.

“You may call me Esur, if you wish, Myta”

“As you say, master.” I could hear the smile in her voice. I also thought I could almost feel her warm amusement, the way Ket’s emotions came to me with the spirit’s mental speech.

“You are in remarkably good condition, all things considered.” I said as I washed her, looking for any signs of sores or skin infections. “At this rate, I expect you back in a reasonably healthy state within a week. Your spirit and soul will take much more to recover.”

She didn’t reply, simply accepting my statements. I was concerned that was a sign of her spiritual malaise, but I got the feeling that she was oddly content. A glance at her spirit body confirmed that. Her mana was pulsing in a slow but steady rhythm, colored with a warm amber hue. It was still weak, her channels still warped and anima discolored, but a steady heart meant her mind was clear and still. When I finished bathing her I wrapped a soft blanket around her, and retrieved one of my purchases.

The outpost trader hadn’t had any hairbrushes, there simply was much call for them in the camp. But I had found a carved wooden comb. Myta started when I pulled her hair out of the blanket, but relaxed as I began combing it out. It took me a few minutes to get the hang of it. I kept my own hair fairly short, and I hadn’t made a habit of grooming other people. Still, I picked up the knack of it with minimal tugging at her scalp.

Within a couple of minutes, she wrapped her arms around herself protectively. I paused in concern, but resumed when she made a noise of protest. A few more minutes, and her shoulders began to shake with silent tears. This time I did not stop combing, but simply continued my work. Adding light touches to her shoulders or arms between strokes of the comb. By the time I finished, Myta had regained her composure, and I laid out our new bedrolls.