A Chime for These Hallowed Bones (Chapter 3, Part 1)
Akal brought Rajeev back to the ossuary at dusk.
Yadleen heard the pair coming through the back door. The most delicate phase of cleaning the bone augers was already done, so she issued hurried instructions to Gagan so he could oversee the rest before rushing up to the office. Akal was closing the office door behind Rajeev by the time she reached the upstairs hall.
Offering Yadleen a smile, Akal remarked, “Babaji picks the strangest times for housekeeping, doesn’t he?”
Only Akal could get away with referring to Master Baig as ‘the Old Man’. It was respectfully phrased, but still insubordinate for referring to one’s master. This was one of Akal’s many aggravating qualities, which Master Baig tolerated for one simple reason: Akal’s grandfather was his eldest brother.
He’s as closely related to Master Baig as Rajeev is.
Yadleen shrugged off that troubling thought. Unnaming overruled blood. An irritating great-nephew was a very different beast from an alchemist.
“You should help out downstairs,” she advised Akal. “The apprentices are starting to nod off.”
“But then who will ensure no one listens at the door?” Akal clucked his tongue. Somehow, he shook his head without disturbing the bells in his plait.
Yadleen swatted his arm. “Go. Make them some tea.”
“That hurt more than usual,” Akal said drily, and he glided down the stairs.
He’d be back. The only difference between Akal and a bhūta was that Akal couldn't be driven off by wind chimes. When secrets were whispered or emotions were fraught, he always found a way to insert himself into the situation. That was another eccentricity that Master Baig tolerated, though this one made more sense to Yadleen. Blood ties ensured mutual dishonor if incriminating secrets were spilled. It was a threat that ensured trust.
Is Rajeev counting on that? Does he realize the dishonor that could stain the Baig family just because Akal and the Master talked to him? Will he try to use that to extort Master Baig?
Maybe that was the real reason she’d been asked to sit in. If Akal sat in, it would be conspiracy within the family. She was an outsider. That alone would make this meeting seem less damning, if anyone outside of the ossuary learned about it.
Whatever his reason, Master Baig needs me here.
Steeling herself, Yadleen slipped into the office. The room was almost unchanged from hours ago, except that the candles had burned low. Rajeev stood in front of the desk.
Perhaps it was a trick of the gloom, but now that the alchemist was clean, Yadleen was struck by the family resemblance to her master. His eyes were the same shade of light brown, and he had the same peaked hairline. Midnight black hair shone faintly in the candlelight. Faint freckles dusted his swarthy, clean-shaven face. In the place of the fetid clothes he’d worn before, Akal had provided him with a kurta suit of blue cotton.
Rajeev appraised Yadleen with a cold, dissecting look, the kind that made one reflexively hold one’s breath and wait for judgment to be passed. The sheer arrogance made her stomach seethe. It was one thing to be silently peeled apart by someone like Master Baig, an honorable man who’d earned his place in the world. Receiving that same treatment from the fruit of an Unnamed branch was perverse. He should be the one seeking approval, rather than judging others.
That breathless moment ended when Rajeev turned his back on her. To Master Baig, he said, “I wish to speak with you privately.”
“Yadleen is the daughter of one of my oldest business partners.” Master Baig gestured for her to sit on the divan. “I trust her as I would my own child.”
Effusive warmth filled Yadleen. Rajeev dumped cold water on it by demanding, “How do you know she’s not a rakshasa?”
Master Baig scoffed. “I see you inherited my former sister’s paranoia. Do you think the rakshasas are skulking in every shadow of this land?”
“Why would they need to skulk in shadows, when they’re free to shove a hand up your sultan’s ass and use him as a puppet?”
Rajeev clearly hadn’t recovered his senses. That crass comment could only refer to the Vizier of Harmony, a rakshasa sent by the Hegemony to serve as the Sultan’s closest advisor. Everyone knew that the rakshasas were merely diplomats who ensured harmony between Hegemony members. The Sultan might not command the Vizier, but neither did the Vizier control him.
Master Baig glowered before suggesting, “Perhaps you would prefer to have this meeting tomorrow, when you are better rested.”
“I was dehydrated before, not exhausted,” Rajeev said. “This barbaric country is rather short on clean drinking water.”
Yadleen bit her tongue and balled her hands into fists in her lap. Already, it seemed fair to say that Rajeev was merely a fool, not a spy. Surely a spy would have some tact.
“And does that excuse your rudeness? What makes you think you have the right to heap insult after insult upon our homeland?” Master Baig parried.
Rajeev leaned over the desk. “What right? I’m a man who almost didn’t exist, thanks to your refusal to stand up for your own flesh and blood, here to charge you to do your duty to the gods. The Chorus of Ātaparara calls the dead to dance with them. If you don’t repurpose my dadiji’s bones, she can’t join that dance. You have an obligation to help her, Babaji.” The title sounded far more insulting coming from his lips than it ever had from Akal’s.
Master Baig chortled. “Yadleen. He thinks to dictate theology to us. Enlighten him, won’t you?”
Yadleen’s breath caught. Again, there was that alien note of desperation.
You’re imagining things. Master Baig’s just proving a point. Rajeev’s so ignorant that no master necromancer should waste breath to correct him.
Yadleen sprang up and recited, “Conversion of bones into a wight isn’t the only means to free a soul from them. They can be ground into fine powder and scattered into the soil. They can be treated with chemicals and incorporated into manmade structures. They can be whittled into –”
“I grew up in Sagamaghara,” Rajeev interrupted. “I’m well aware of the alternatives.”
So he was from the Kimian Empire. Sagamaghara was the last of the sister-sultanates to be conquered by the alchemists. The marble walls of Sagamaghara City had been renowned as a Wonder of the Hegemony. From the illustrations Yadleen had seen, it had been a well-deserved accolade.
Not that the alchemists appreciated them.
Yadleen gave Master Baig a moment to take over. When he did not, her sense of unease deepened. Still, she drew herself up a little further and continued, “Then you should understand that our duty is not to help human souls depart to the afterlife. That’s only an incidental benefit. Our duty is to keep the bhūtas in check, and fabricating wights to put the most restless spirits to work is merely a means to that end. If anything, the Chorus demands that we use great discretion during the fabrication process. Bones tainted by great dishonor can only give rise to something monstrous.”
Rajeev scrunched up his nose. “Enlighten me. Where in the Epics of Ātaparara does it say that Unnaming taints someone’s bones? Where does it mention Unnaming at all?”
Surely, Master Baig would take over now. He knew the Epics by heart. No matter how far beneath him this argument was, he wouldn’t risk anyone else misquoting them.
Horrifying, desperate silence filled the room.
“It is written,” Yadleen blustered. She wracked her memory for the precise phrasing. However, scripture had never been her strong suit.
Rajeev studied her with cold disdain. “No, it isn’t. The opposite, actually. Third Scroll of Samprati, Verses Four Hundred Seven through Four Hundred Nine: ‘For the Chorus sings above the refrain of mortals, and only their music shall reverberate in your bones. The melodies of kings are vainglory, and the songs of emperors are but a passing thing. Who are you, Beast of the Silence, to think your music greater than the gods?’”
Yadleen’s cheeks burned. That last line was an unnecessary slap in the face. Worse, Master Baig wasn’t stepping in to correct him. “You’re making that up.”
“Am I? Let’s check.” Rajeev’s eyes raked the dark walls of the office. “Babaji, you do keep the Epics handy, don’t you? Every pious Ātapararan should. All of us in the Empire do, at least.”
Master Baig huffed, “Cherry-picking a passage from the Epics means nothing. If you have a point, then make it.”
Yadleen’s outrage guttered into fear. The rebuke lacked his steely thunder. Master Baig was past desperation. He sounded like a man who’d lost an argument but was too stubborn to concede the point.
That can’t be right, Master. You have the high ground here. Yours is the honorable position. This alchemist has nothing.
You aren’t buying into this nonsense, are you?
Thank you for reading! Part 2 of Chapter 3 is now available! Also, if you enjoy what you read here, please share this chapter (and the rest of A Chime for These Hallowed Bones) with others!
