Senlin Ascends (The Books of Babel, #1)

by Josiah Bancroft

… Iren, dearie, please read the directions I’ve given you.” She studied the scrap of paper, her brow furrowing with the effort. The words came in fits and starts. “Make … a fist … with your hand and … put it to Tom’s head … three … tims.” “That last word is times, dearie. Seems you didn’t enact such a miracle after all, Tom.” Goll drew a whistling breath. Iren stood in a stupor, staring down at the note in her hands. Senlin watched as she grappled with the decision, and he found himself silently willing her to strike him before it was too late. Goll was testing her loyalty. She had to strike before suspicion set in. She recovered herself in an instant. Stepping forward, she took Senlin by the collar and without ceremony, struck him in the face again and again and again. The only mercy she paid him was to spread her blows evenly across his head, and still it felt like the kick of a mule. “Ho, ho, hold there, Iren. That’s good. That’s five! I only asked for three!” Goll was greatly amused by the extra blows. Senlin’s face streaked with blood and tears. Iren dropped him, and he fell right through his knees to his tailbone. He bounced against the ground and spilled onto his back. The world was haloed in red, and at the center was Goll’s round face. “Tom, you would’ve done well to have taught her to count before you began the alphabet,” Goll said. “At our age, education is a waste. You can’t defend yourself, she can’t count, and I can’t learn to trust. We are too deep in our ru...