Warsinger by James Baldwin (most important books of all time txt) 📕

families of the dead I have tended. The amber beads are for children born and lives saved: flies for children, beetles for recovered patients. The bronze prayer rings are given by the abbots on attainment of certain skills. The onyx are gifts from my master.”

“Your master? Like, your martial arts teacher?”

“Among other things,” he replied. “Master Gorten is the reason I’m not dead, a drunken idiot roiling with syphilis in a gutter somewhere, or both. The first set of onyx beads are given to a novice when they are accepted for teaching, and braided high up in the hair. The second set is given when training is completed.”

“Huh.” I unpicked one thin braid at a time, setting the beads aside in order. I could do this kind of thing with near-supernatural speed and relatively little energy – and after what happened with Karalti and the assassin, it was oddly soothing. “And the red beads?”

He paused for a moment. “Dead kin.”

There were fifteen red beads. That was a lot of kin to lose. “Sorry. If it’s anything, I can sympathize.”

“You mentioned something about a plague in your history,” Vash replied. “So in all likelihood, yes, you can. Anyway, you need to sleep after all the excitement tonight, so let me answer your questions about corruption, hmm?”

“I mostly want to know what it is.”

Vash settled into silence for a few moments. “Well, to say I ‘know’ would be a conceit. But I have been thinking about those two Ilian flunkies – Lucien and Violetta? – and their flying abortions. The sight of a mutated dragon is likely as disturbing to you as it is to those of us who have worshipped their likeness for the better part of twenty millennia-”

“Twenty?” I frowned. “Rin and Ebisa said humans have only been here five thousand years.”

“That is because they are Mercurions, and this is the New World.” Vash snorted. “And dragons and we Tuun are from Daun. Daun is the old world. We have songs, oral traditions, magical traditions that go back almost as far as those of the Meewfolk and Aesari and the Tulaq. Both of the latter, the Aesari and Tulaq, are extinct, but the Tulaq and Dragons co-existed for the longest time, and also with us, for most of our history. They were a long-lived species, and impeccable lore-keepers.”

“I wonder why I don’t know anything about them?” I quickly unpicked and braided, unpicked and braided. “I’ve seen some Tulaq mummies and some pictures of them, but I don’t know any stories or anything. They were like… intelligent quadrupeds, right? Well, sexapeds. Four legs, two wings.”

“Yes. Beautiful creatures. You are Starborn, incarnated into the world without kin or hearth. If you had, you would know more about them. Herding is boring. All we had to do is tell stories.” Vash sat patiently as I worked, showing no responses as I combed and tugged out frizzled hair that was startling to lock. “But anyway… to return to my point, Lucien and Violetta and their dragons gave me pause. They have a chilling, unnatural presence, like the sword Suri showed me when you came in just before. Perhaps the oddest experience I have ever had is being surrounded by the army of the dead – the most unnatural thing I could think of in sane times – and yet facing down something that was even more horrifying. The sight of the dragons and that sword makes me retch. That unnatural repulsion… I would say that is the essence of ‘corruption’.”

“Hmm.” I paused to rub my numb shoulder. “Yeah. It’s weird, though. I keep getting these notifications saying I’m immune to Corruption. Matir told me the same thing.”

“Interesting.”

“Yeah. Even so, weird shit keeps happening to me that makes me think that can’t be right. The shoulder thing, for one. For another, every time I die, my amnesia gets worse. The last time it happened, I couldn’t even remember my own name. It’s like sudden onset dementia… I don’t even know if I’ve lost memories, or if my personality has changed or something.”

“But touching Karalti restores your memories, correct?”

“Yeah. It’s getting harder and harder to deal with, though. More painful. More dangerous.” I nodded, deftly fitting rings on before plaiting them in. “I don’t know if I believe I’m immune. My shoulder says otherwise.”

“Perhaps the symptoms you experience are proof of immunity?” Vash replied. “Take smallpox, for example. If you succumb to smallpox, you die. If you survive, you live, but are almost always left with scars. Immunity does not preclude suffering; you may suffer, AND be immune. Perhaps these symptoms are your corruption scars, hmm?”

That was more comforting than I’d expected. I was about to thank him when my HUD emitted a purring chirp, and a red exclamation point flashed in the corner of my eye: a global alert. Vash stiffened as the same World Alert appeared in his NPC HUD. My hands froze as I pulled the alert over.

[World Alert: The Ilian Empire has invaded the Kingdom of Revala!]

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Vash and I both said at the same time.

Chapter 33

The six of us gathered around Vash’s bed in a state of silent shock. It had been less than twenty-four hours since Rutha's testimony... the one in which she'd given incorrect information as to Baldr's next move. It was timed so perfectly that there was no way he hadn't intended for it to play out this way.

“Did Rutha lie to us?” Suri asked me, as astounded as everyone else.

“No. No way.” I sat there, silently cursing myself for missing such an obvious sequence of events. “Think about it. Baldr spent weeks abusing and manipulating Rutha, then beat her so badly she was in a coma for almost a month. Lucien and Violetta flew into Taltos to wave their dicks at us, threatening to make an example of her. When we spooked them, they handed Rutha over and made a big show to provoke Ignas. We thought they'd thrown