Karkov was silent for almost a minute, and Rin began to wonder if he was trying to come up with an escape strategy. Finally, he spoke. “To craft a new sphere the way you describe you’d have to remember all the existing protections, wouldn’t you?”
Rin realized she was entering dangerous territory and couldn’t afford to be too cavalier. She almost remembered Karkov’s protections but remained uncertain of a few. The whole reason she had agreed to his little farce was to confirm those.
If she was wrong, her current sphere wouldn’t work on him and she would have to craft another. Without new information, she would be doomed to trial and error. There was a genuine danger she would grow weary of the whole thing before fulfilling her purpose. Given how tedious a single encounter with the man was — not to mention the strain of crafting such a complex sphere — Rin doubted she would have the stomach for an indeterminate series of attempts. Ascertaining his precise protections would avoid this troublesome eventuality. But she had to tread lightly.
If she tipped her hand, she could alert Karkov to his peril and ruin any chance of tricking him down the road. On the other hand, her best opportunity to find out could be now, when he had brought up the subject himself. Besides, they had agreed to exchange information. For all his faults and lies, Karkov took promises very seriously. Or at least he used to.
There was no doubt that he could give Rin what she needed. Despite the taunts she regularly hurled at him, Rin knew his memory wouldn’t be an issue. If there was one thing a Protege never forgot, it was their precise protections. She never had lied to anybody about those when she crafted the spheres. Well, anybody who wasn’t being deceived to begin with. Karkov certainly knew his, but could she coax them from him yet? She decided it was worth a shot. At the very least she would get to see him squirm.
“I do remember them all,” Rin replied. “Every protection on every sphere I forged.” Karkov wouldn’t believe this, but he wasn’t supposed to. Sure enough, he balked at it.
“Your memory never was that good. In fact, it used to be awful.”
“I had two centuries to reminisce.”
“Even so …” Karkov predictably remained skeptical, but that just meant she needed a slightly different tack. When the inexplicable needed explaining, nothing served better than religion.
Rin sighed. “If you must know, yes my memory is awful in general. However, remembering these is one of the gifts the gods gave me.”
“Bullshit. After thousands of years and that many spheres, I don’t believe you can remember everyone’s protections.” Karkov had a superior smile. “I suppose you’ll claim that one of your own protections is against forgetting.”
Rin gave him a dirty look.
“Okay, why don’t you tell me mine,” he asked. It was just what she had been waiting for.
“Fine, I’m lying,” Rin snapped. “Most of them are obvious, but I don’t remember every single one — especially for the higher numbers. But I do need to know them.” She waited a few moments for this to sink in. The whole preamble had been unnecessary, of course; she could have asked him outright. But she wanted to give him a taste of his own theatrics.
Karkov’s face suddenly dropped. It was a good sign. It meant he intended to keep his promise.
Rin smiled sweetly. “I warned that you may come to regret our little arrangement.”
She enjoyed the spectacle of Karkov’s dawning realization of what he truly had promised. She almost felt sorry for the man, especially remembering her own feelings when Sree had pulled a similar trick. It took him a moment to recover his composure.
When he did, he gave her a forced smile. “But first, please finish answering my question.”
“Still delaying the inevitable?” Rin scoffed. “I think I’ve given quite a bit. I’m entitled to my own turn.”
“Fine. What do you want?”
Rin couldn’t blame Karkov for being less than enthusiastic. She grinned triumphantly. “You know what I want.”
“Okay, but it’s been a while, so I may be quicker than usual. You know, an hour or two.” Karkov reached for his belt, but Rin ignored him.
“Your protections. What are they?”
Karkov looked at her. “You mean, you really don’t remember?” Rin couldn’t tell whether he had feigned incredulity before or was doing so now.
“I remember them.”
“After all the care you put into crafting my sphere?” he mocked.
“I’m pretty sure.”
“You don’t sound so sure.”
“Well, I will be when you tell me.” Rin was getting irritated. Why did that damned man have to make everything so difficult.
“After what you just explained, why would I be stupid enough to do that?”
“Because it’s part of the deal,” she noted calmly. Balking wasn’t like him. The Karkov she knew just would lie.
“It seems like I’d be better off just giving you one more excuse to think ill of me.” For some unfathomable reason, he appeared to be enjoying this.
“Well, let me put it this way,” Rin suggested. “There aren’t many ways to encumber a Sixteen, but I could be inclined to pick a less unpleasant one if you don’t aggravate me.”
“You make it sound so enticing.”
She looked at Karkov. “You may think you don’t care now, but I assure you that after a few hundred thousand years in torment, even minor differences in your quality of life will become quite noticeable.”
“Yes, that’s very reassuring. I tell you what — why don’t we just skip this whole eternity in hell thing and go straight to the sex.”
Before Rin could muster a retort, he gave her a puzzled look. “What do you mean there aren’t many options?”
She let out a groan and put her head in her hands. “You’re the one who’s supposed to be telling me what I wish to know. Why does it always go like this?”
“Always? We haven’t seen each other in thousands of years.”
“And who’s responsible for that?”
“Well, I didn’t think you’d want to see me after what I did. Besides, you weren’t exactly conspicuous.”
“That’s not what I mean,” she grumbled. After a second, Rin looked up.
“Fine, I’ll tell you. But then you’d better answer me, or dammit I’ll give you the hardest eternity that can be had. I’ll dig up new protections just to screw you.”
“You can’t get pregnant. No need for any protection when you’re screwing me.”
Rin slowly shook her head. It was true — there could be no dignity around family. And like it or not, Karkov was family. That had been her big mistake. Treating him like a normal foe. He was right: there was no such thing as an easy parricide.
She slumped back. “You probably think it’s easy to craft these things.” She held up her sphere. “Do you want to know what’s really involved?”
Karkov stared at her in disbelief. “You’re actually going to tell me how to craft them?”
It took a moment for Rin to realize that he was objecting.
“Are you mad? You don’t want me to?” She always had assumed that everyone’s greatest desire was to learn this secret. It was unimaginable that Karkov, of all people, wouldn’t share in that folly.
“No. Absolutely not.”
He genuinely seemed horrified at the prospect. Was it a ruse? Maybe it was some sort of legal maneuver. He could claim he didn’t have to answer her question since she hadn’t answered his. There was no audience to play to, but that wouldn’t stop him from trying such a trick to ease his own conscience. He just needed the flimsiest excuse to break their agreement. Rin smiled and leaned over. She felt a perverse satisfaction in forcing the knowledge on him.
“It’s okay. I’m the only one who can do it. Even if you know all the details, it won’t make any difference.” To her surprise, he seemed relieved. She decided he wasn’t pretending. He really didn’t want to know.
“Are you sure?” Karkov asked. He still appeared hesitant, and Rin felt a strange pride in the man.
She nodded. “I’m sure. It’s just me. The gods told me so.”
“And you believed them? Did you test that?”
“That would be blasphemy,” Rin objected.
Karkov smiled. “Yeah, you tested it. What happened?”
“I’m sure,” she repeated, firmly. He seemed satisfied, and she continued.
“It’s not easy to craft a sphere. Why do you think I had to work my way up to the bigger numbers? Every protection has a symbol in the language of the universe.”
“Yes, I remember. There’s one thing I never was clear on, though. How do you figure them out?”
“You don’t.” Rin regarded Karkov. “I know all the protections and their symbols. More importantly, I know their meanings. Not their translation into one language or another, but their translation into human understanding. They are … part of me.”
“But your sphere doesn’t have them all.”
Was Karkov fishing for more information about her own protections? It would be natural, but pointless.
“Obviously not,” Rin replied with a certain impatience. “You already know that some are pernicious. But even the benign ones cannot all be combined into one big sphere. It simply would not work.”
“Why not?”
“As I said, it’s not easy. The symbols must be etched and overlaid in a certain way, such that the space between them forms a final symbol, the protection for the sphere itself.”
“Not all combinations work, or at least I have not been able to find a way to make them all work. But that’s not the only obstruction. The protections themselves must be consistent. None can contradict another, even in the slightest way or under the remotest circumstance. I know you’re aware of this, because we discussed it after I gave you your sphere.”
Karkov nodded. “It seemed obvious at the time. Otherwise, how would such conflicts be resolved?”
“That is indeed the question. But as it happens, they need not be. Such a sphere cannot be formed. To create a sphere I must find a set of protections that can work together, I must arrange their symbols appropriately, and then I must perform a certain ceremony.”
“A ceremony?” He raised an eyebrow.
“It’s embarrassing. I won’t go into the details.”
“You promised.”
“I did nothing of the sort.”
“So you are afraid I will be able to craft one.”
Rin gave him a resentful glance. “If there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that you can’t do this part. Think birthing. Then again, you are good at pulling things out of your ass.”
“You shat it out? That’s not very hygienic.”
“Different hole.”
“Ah, I see. So you do this womanly thing, drink moon juice, call on Hecate, or whatever.”
“Actually, it mostly involves lying around in discomfort. And the more protections, the worse it is.”
“You can’t feel pain,” Karkov pointed out.
“Extreme pain. As you well know, we do feel discomfort. However, it is worse than that. My own protections do not apply to this one thing.” Even as she said it, Rin realized her mistake. She had provided Karkov with fodder for his scheming. But what could he do, force her to create a huge sphere? It was a folly, but a harmless one. Hopefully.
Karkov either did not register this or did not show it. He apparently was pondering something else. “I see, so Sixteen …”
“Really, really sucked.”
He looked contrite. “Wow, I am an ungrateful jerk.”
“Yep.”
“So you birth this sphere. Wasn’t it weird birthing your own? Seems kind of incestuous.”
Rin ignored him. “Then I bind it to the person.”
“Though I guess it sounds more like laying an egg.” Karkov looked at her. “How do you bind it to a person?”
“You should know. I did it to you.” She smiled at the memory. Her feelings had been very different the last time she bound a sphere to Karkov. What a difference a few thousand years could make.
“When? You told me that some sort of ceremony had to be performed, but I don’t recall any actual ceremony.”
“You don’t remember our wedding? It wasn’t a small affair.”
Karkov looked horrified. “It was when we were married?”
Rin rolled her eyes. “It was while we had sex.”
“We did that quite a lot.”
“One specific time, after I had prepared the sphere.” She sighed. “Apparently, it wasn’t particularly memorable.”
“So you slept with every immortal?”
Rin offered a bashful smile. “Does that make me a slut?”
“Even the women?”
“I see this bothers you.”
Suddenly, Karkov broke into a broad grin. “No, I think that’s great. You always seemed so reserved except with me. I just wish you’d let me watch.”
This occasioned another eye roll from Rin. Had he been such a guy back then? And was he now? Something occurred to her. She really hadn’t seen him since he was young. Had she screwed up? Perhaps she had misjudged one of his protections. Was Karkov emotionally as young as he looked? If so, Rin wasn’t sure whether she should feel guilty. She hadn’t offered a warranty on the damned things.
“No, it wasn’t the sex itself, moron. I just need to touch the sphere to you.”
“Naked.”
“No. Well, any naked part.”
“So, naked.”
Rin sighed in exasperation. “I just found a nice way to give it to you. I’ve regretted it ever since, but never so much as now.”
She walked over and tapped Karkov on the forehead with her finger. “Remember when my touch used to put you in heaven? Well, next time, it will put you in hell.”
“I see.” He weighed this for a while. “So it takes a woman.”
“No, it takes me. No other woman can do it.”
“But what about the whole pregnancy thing?”
“How the fuck should I know? The universe probably just uses what is available. If I was a man, maybe I’d ejaculate it out.”
Karkov considered this. “So for you it’s associated with the miracle of birth, but for a man it would be cum because that’s all we do? I don’t know whether to feel insulted.”
“Yeah, pretty much. I just made up an example, idiot. It’s a moot point because there’s only one Crafter and it’s me. Why not try to figure out what would happen if I was a blonde instead.”
“I’d never have dated you.”
“We didn’t date. I took you and made you my husband.”
Karkov scratched his head. “I don’t remember it being quite that primitive. I think there was a courtship of some sort.”
“Either way, it was a mistake. Unfortunately, you didn’t come with a return policy. Until now. Can you guess how that works?”
Karkov looked at her. “How hard is it? There must not be very many combinations of protections which can be layered on top of a Sixteen sphere.”
And … grownup Karkov was back. Rin wasn’t sure whether to be happy or sad.
“That’s correct,” Rin acknowledged. “And finding them is very difficult.”