Grave
Oltaxath kept her word. Leather poured in from all corners of the camp—more than enough to cover the hut’s floor.
The donors seemed genuinely pleased to help.
Less so the villagers conscripted to clean the place, though none voiced complaint.
Math suspected their silence came from shame: an outsider had seen how they’d treated the old man—and found it wanting.
Once the hut was clean—or cleaner—Math began his work.
He used the same spell he’d used on Huraiik—an Order technique for breaking cloth into fibers for papermaking—to seamlessly join the leather. Several Souna helped him tie the sheet onto the hut’s skeletal frame, pulling it taut along the ground.
Moving the old man seemed unwise. They worked carefully around him, where he lay suspended between sleep, waking, and death.
“That should do the trick—” Math said.
Someone plucked the hammer from his grasp.
Kai stood behind him, handing him a steaming bowl of soup in place of the tool. “I shall continue from here,” she said firmly. “You should eat.” Once he had the bowl, she spun an embossing stylus through her fingers, winked, and sank gracefully to her knees to begin drawing.
She must have changed while he’d been distracted—gone was the drab servant’s dress. She now wore vivid trousers and a tunic in red and gold, unmistakably herself.
Math hesitated. They had other conversations waiting—but now was not the time.
He backed away carefully, breathing in the pungent scent of leather mingling with the savory aroma of his soup.
Cross-legged, he sat nearby, quietly watching her precise movements.
He was not the only observer. Villagers just “happened” to pass the once-avoided hut.
Their distant chatter and footsteps formed a quiet backdrop, mingling with the playful giggles of children peeking through gaps in the leather walls.
Both Kai and Math pretended not to notice.
After a while, Kai gestured at the elaborate designs she had drawn. “This is nearly complete—the drawing portion, at least. Channeling energy into it shall follow.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Unless you can help me forgo food and sleep for a hundred hours, no.” She bent back over the leather, tracing lines. “With such a miracle, we might reduce the completion by two days.”
“Too bad I can’t just use my magic to power yours,” Math said absently—and froze.
Kai noticed instantly. “What is it?”
Math’s eyes brightened. “Who says I can’t?”
“You know it does not work that way.”
“No, I don’t know that,” Math insisted. “Think about it—the Kaliri weapon, that graved cannon. You said it had to be recharged eventually. But why would wild mages carry a weapon into battle they couldn’t recharge?”
Kai frowned. “You misunderstood. The Kaliri long arm was not rechargeable. Once depleted, it reverted to a mundane weapon and the graving would have to be re-created. If those assassins were wild mages like yourself, then that would be far outside their abilities.”
Embarrassment heated Math’s cheeks, but the idea refused to fade. “Fine. Forget the Kaliri. Just because they couldn’t doesn’t mean it can’t be done. Has anyone tried to recharge Order graving with wild magic?”
Kai blinked, stylus suspended. For once, genuine surprise flickered across her face.
“I … no, I cannot recall it ever being attempted.” Her composure returned slowly, replaced by cautious intrigue.
“It is theoretically possible—but wildly dangerous. Order gravings remain stable because they are self-contained. Wild magic would—”
“Require constant supervision,” Math interrupted. “Obviously. But it could work, right?”
She paused, clearly weighing the risks. “Perhaps. But this is not like charging metal or stone. Leather will not survive a sudden surge. The magic requires slow, meticulous feeding. Hours at a stretch.” Her voice dropped. “A single lapse, and it might unravel—violently.”
“If we both did it, you could monitor the process. Ensure I don’t move too fast.”
“From my experience,” Kai replied calmly, “moving too quickly is hardly your flaw.”
Math blinked—then caught the tilt of her lips. His heart stuttered. “Wait … are you teasing me?”
She looked away, but not before a faint flush rose to her cheeks. “Should I not? If you would prefer I desist…”
“No,” he said too quickly, then quieter: “No, I like it. I’m just surprised. I thought I was the enemy.”
Her smile faded. “Clearly not.” She touched the leather gently, her eyes flicking toward the old man. “The Parnathi came too close to killing you for me to think it was staged.”
“I shouldn’t like it,” he added softly. “You teasing me.”
Kai glanced over, suddenly cautious.
“Because if I like it,” he continued, “it means this isn’t meaningless. And I don’t get to have things that mean something. Not with someone the whole world thinks I’m supposed to kill.”
Her breath caught. “You still believe I am a grim lord?”
“How could you be?” Math scoffed. “You were already asleep before the first grim lord started their reign. Also: you’re not dead.”
“True enough. A condition I hope continues for some time.”
“So no, I don’t think you’re a grim lord, but I also know what the bond is doing to me. And if a spell is responsible for what I’m feeling … well, it’s working.”
“I see.” Her voice was measured. “And if a spell is not responsible?”
“Then it’s worse,” Math said. “Because then I have no excuse.”
For a moment, neither spoke. The hut was filled with the smell of soup cooling and the sound of children laughing outside—distant and painfully ordinary.
Then Kai exhaled softly, a sound too full of feeling for comfort. “Perhaps we ought to continue this conversation later.”
“Agreed.”
She cleared her throat. “Regardless, your idea is sound. But caution is crucial. We must communicate instantly. If only we shared some form of magical bond…”
Math barked a dry laugh. “A bond? Who would dare such a thing?”
“I truly cannot imagine who would be that reckless.” Her voice was gentler now, the smile softer—less a weapon, more an offering. “Now, go be handsome elsewhere. I have a grave to finish.”
Math winced. “Given the circumstances, maybe don’t call it a grave?”
Kai paused. “Ah. Yes. Perhaps a working, then. Please do rest—I shall soon need you at your best.”
Math couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment Kai finished, but he knew it was late. Most of the camp had gone quiet. The main fire had dwindled to embers, leaving only the moonlight. The scent of ash and dinner lingered—a mixture of pleasant and less-than-pleasant reminders.
He had to admit her work was beautiful, even if its meaning escaped him. The drawing, etched into the leather, resembled a maze threaded with formulas and sigils. It reminded him of the passages beneath Isofal, of the map carved into the wall.
Kai stood, stretched, and then sat down opposite him. Their knees touched. Even through the leather, he could feel her warmth. She was too close, and he didn’t move. Beside them, the old man snored and twitched, asleep—if not exactly at peace.
“Normally—” She paused. “Rather, in my time, if gravers attempted a working of this scale, we used a team. A large group channeling at their maximum safe capacity may accomplish almost anything. So I have done something of this kind before—”
“We don’t have to do it this way,” Math said quietly. “It was just an idea.”
“But a good one.” She picked up one of his hands and cradled it in both of hers.
Math’s breath caught. Her skin was warmer than he’d expected. He ran his thumb along the edge of her fingers, then forced himself to stop. Any more and he would forget why he shouldn’t want this.
They sat like that for a moment too long. She didn’t let go.
“We shall work for as long as it remains safe,” she said, voice quieter now.
“If needs must, we shall stop and rest before continuing.” She finally withdrew one hand, the absence of it sharp against his skin, and traced the leather’s surface as if to ground herself.
“Once it is sufficiently charged, I shall activate the spell.”
“What’s it meant to do?” He could admit he was curious, but the question came out softer than intended.
She looked into his eyes. By the light of his summoned wax candles, hers appeared entirely black.
“Cancer is like your Kaliri spy. A danger to your order, possibly to the empire, but impossible to confront until identified—and it hides well. All I intend is to show the body how to recognize what does not belong, and remove it.”
“If only you could do that with the Kaliri spy.”
“Indeed.”
Math considered her words. They made sense. But …
“We’re waiting until morning,” he said.
She blinked. “I have already told you—”
“Kai, if this goes wrong, wouldn’t you rather it did so in daylight?”
He half expected resistance, but after a short pause, she nodded. “Then we shall begin in the morning. Do we have a place to sleep?”
“We do.” He helped her to her feet, their hands lingering for a heartbeat longer than necessary. They stepped out into the cooler night, leaving the old man behind—hopefully still slumbering.
He pointed toward a hut outlined by the glow of a fading fire. “That one’s been set aside for us.”
“Us? Both of us?” Her eyebrows rose, surprise flickering across her face.
“They seem to think we’re … together.”
“Oh.” Though he couldn’t see her expression clearly, he felt tensions between them change—her embarrassment flaring, but also a swirl of more heated emotions, quickly banked.
“If that’s a problem—”
“No. No, it is not.”
“I’m sure I could find somewhere else—”
“It is fine,” she said, not looking at him. “We are only going to sleep, after all.”
They needed to sleep. No matter what he might wish they were doing instead.
“Right,” he agreed, his voice rougher than it should have been. Then, needing air—or distance—he asked, “Have your people always been like this? I admit, they aren’t what I expected.”
“I have not the faintest idea. I was very young when the Parnathi…” She trailed off, then shook her head.
“I learned the language much later, because I wished to understand something of my people. Their customs were unknown to me. It was never a gendered language, however, so that much hasn’t changed. ”
He couldn’t tell how she felt about that—not because she was hiding anything, but because there was too much for easy interpretation. Her silence felt thick with things unsaid.
“Let us try to catch some of that elusive ‘sleep,’” Math said.
They were going to need it.