Page 21 of The Silent
Niran’s smile was devastating. His teeth were straight and white. He had a dimple in his left cheek. “Your brother has been far more patient than I would be. You are both to be commended. But I don’t think it’s Sirius’s texts that make youscowl.”
“No, those would be fromKostas.”
“He’s stillcalling?”
“It’s every other day rather than every day now. I texted him daily at first. He seems to berelenting.”
“We brothers are protective,” Niran said. “It is our nature to protect our sisters. As for the tattooing, I’d planned to let you observe a ritual last week, but the Grigori requesting the tattoo was not comfortable with anaudience.”
“But thisoneis?”
Niran nodded. “He is an older Grigori who has sisters of his own. He is comfortable around women and nottempted.”
“I would be grateful to witness the ritual. I hope you’ll explain ittome.”
“I’d be happy to.” Niran rose. “Let us leave the table so our brothers can clean up. Intira, why don’t you go back to your studies while Kyra and I go to thetemple?”
Intira nodded. “Yes,brother.”
“Be ready for the market at fiveo’clock.”
She smiled. “Iwillbe!”
Intira, Bun Ma, and Kanchana pressed their hands together and nodded their goodbyes as Niran and Kyra rose and walked toward thetemple.
“The thing you must understand is that this practice is very old,” Niran said. “Far older than Buddhism. Far older than Hinduism even. It is possible this is something that was once practiced by early Grigori, though it was lost to us and only survived in the humanworld.”
Kyra said, “The Irin have tattoos, but I don’t really know what they’re for. Other than controlling their magic. I don’t know thespecifics.”
“As far as I can tell, what you do with your singing—the words, the spells you say—they do with their writing. The tattoos just capture the magic more permanently. It is the same history with theSakYant.”
“But you said you learned it fromhumans.”
“We did,” Niran said. “My brother, Sura, was dissatisfied with his life even before our sire was dead. He used to say he felt as if he were rotting from the inside. He became friends with a very old holy man who lived not farfromhere.”
“Amonk?”
Niran shook his head. “No. I don’t know what gods he believed in, but his life was honorable, his body was healthy, and he claimed to be over one hundred and tenyearsold.”
Kyra said, “Humans don’t livethatlong.”
“Sura believed him. And this man, he had many markings. All over his arms…” Niran rolled up his sleeves to show Kyra a stylized tiger on his forearm surrounded by unfamiliar writing. “His legs. His chest. The old man had tattooed himself the same way his father tattooed himself. The same way he taught his sons before theylefthim.”
“But what did the tattoos mean? They were human? Or did he learn them fromtheIrin?”
“He was human. And the tattoos were very old mantras written in Pali, the language of the Buddha. He called themSak Yantand told my brother Sura that he would teach him if Sura was willing to learn and to take care of the old man until he died. The old man also told Sura that in order to teach him, he would have to live according tofivelaws.”
“What kindoflaws?”
“Simple things for a human.” Niran paused and pulled a ripe mango from a tree near the temple. “Don’t kill. Don’t steal. Don’t lie. Don’t lust. Don’t live a hedonistic life of pleasure.” Niran pulled out a knife and sliced the mango neatly, carving petals from the flesh of the golden fruit. He handed them to Kyra as they walked. “These laws are all things humans endeavor to do anyway. Most human laws relatetothis.”
Kyra understood immediately. “But notGrigorilaws.”
“We have no laws,” Niran said. “And to Sura—for a Grigori raised by a Fallen angel—these ideas were revolutionary. We and all our brothers were taught from birth to kill and lie and steal and lust. That was our identity. It was also what was rotting my brother from the inside. He took advantage of our father’s absence and fled into the forest to learn from the old man. Over the years, he went back again and again. He discovered that the meditation he practiced and the words the old man tattooed on his body—later the words he tattooed himself—clearedhismind.”
“It did what the Irin tattoos do for theirwarriors.”
Niran shook his head. “I’m sure their systems are more extensive. Their spells are far more complex. They have thousands of years of scholarship behind their traditions. But for us—for those who don’t have anyone to teach us—these human tattoos do help.” He motioned to the temple where saffron-clad Grigori walked in prayer ormeditation.
