Chapter 36 Gedeon
GEDEON
Standing in the center of the stone-paved plaza, dressed in a linen button-up shirt and matching pants, Conall demanded, “Take it off.”
His three partners lingered behind him, their foursome ready for Damia and I to begin the ritual.
But only after I shrugged off my jacket, apparently.
“Gedeon, don’t be a child.” Damia spread her arms wide, the ankle-length maroon dress she had changed into fluttering in the wind. “It’s their wedding, so be nice instead of an asshole and listen to him.”
“We want our ceremony guides to be seen in all their glory,” Conall pressed as relentlessly as the late afternoon sun coaxing sweat to trickle down my back. “Are you seriously going to make everyone wait?”
My eyelids twitched. How the hell these two had ended up becoming my family, I pondered to this day.
Keeping the grumble of You have no idea what you are both getting yourselves into to myself, I ripped off my jacket and tossed it onto the wooden bench, right beside Dain’s grandma, her pursed lips a disapproving expression if I had ever seen one.
“Don’t tell me I didn’t warn you,” I told Conall, thanking the universe for sparing me further humiliation. Rows of people encircling us stood too far to make out the details on the back of my t-shirt, and bonfires blazed behind them, obscuring us from the rest of the celebrants, so I was safe.
For now.
Until the ceremony required me to shift around Conall, Nissa, Dain, and Aanya. All four of them were going to get all close and personal with the embroidered statement.
“It’s not that bad.” Appraising me, Damia tugged on one of her cornrows ending at her nape.
“It’s just white. I don’t get why you were being such a prick about this.
Next time, I’ll just ask Zion to slice your clothing off until you’re as bare as nature made you.
” Twisting on her heel to face Conall’s partners, she clapped.
“Now that the drama is over, we can begin.”
Avoiding Damia’s challenging look, Conall whispered to me, “I told you she’s terrifying.”
Surveying the gathered crowd, Damia cleared her throat, and her voice rose to that of a speaker.
“To those with origins from this compound, the cities, or the wild—welcome. Today, together, we will stand as witnesses for the binding ceremony. As you know, the foundation of the tying knot is truth. No false vows will be allowed to be spoken during the ritual. So before we begin, I want to say: Conall, no words can describe how it feels to find what you have.” She gestured at his three partners.
“I hope you will treasure it for the rest of your days. I know I would.” With a twinkle in her eyes, she scanned the crowd.
“And on that note, we shall begin. The bell has rung, the crows have cawed, the river has ebbed, and the sun has begun its fall. The journey of four has reached the crossroads.”
I gawked at her. That was not what we had rehearsed. And I had no intention of messing up this wedding, no matter how bothersome my friends tended to be.
Damia whispered in my ear, “It’s a line from a book I stole from your study last year.”
I inhaled. Counted to four. Exhaled. But the flowing air did nothing to counteract her smugness playing tug of war with my nerve endings.
“It’s your turn to speak now,” she added as the group of four glanced between themselves and frowns popped up in the ring of our closest friends waiting for the fulfillment of our custom.
Angling my back slightly away from Damia and ignoring the pebble stuck in the ridges of my boot’s sole, I smiled—genuinely smiled.
“Damia and I met Conall when we were toddlers, if not babies, and though the years have not been easy on us, today we are beyond pleased to help the man I’m proud to call my brother invoke the binding ritual. ”
A breeze ghosted over my neck, ruffling the collar of my t-shirt. Unconsciously, I studied the people forming a protective circle around us in search of—
Them.
The wind billowed Kali’s and Zion’s loose, high-waisted, black pants and tucked-in shirts, the outfits undeniably chosen to piss me off.
Yet they had the opposite effect, widening the stretch of my lips.
“I know I will remember this day for long.” My chest swelled from the look Conall gave me, and raspiness laced my voice.
“Unbreakable promises will be forged today, so as my second wedding gift, Conall, here it is: a thank you. You kicked my ass with the sweetest speech in existence this morning, and I thank you for it.”
Conall’s smile drowned in the chuckles emanating from his partners and rolling over from our friends gathered nearby. The sounds blended into one, building a protective wall, a shield guarding the participants.
Damia gave me a curt nod, and once I’d dipped my chin in return, she stepped forward, speaking the first line. “State your demand, and we shall commence.”
Taking each other’s hands, Conall, Nissa, Dain, and Aanya formed a line in front of the rope lying on the ground. “We summon you both to bind us,” they said in tandem.
Aanya plucked a plum-colored velvet bag from her pocket and extended the gift to us. “Speak the oath, and these shall be yours to call upon.”
In unison, Damia and I responded, “We accept the offering made. Relinquish yourselves to our judgment, and we shall weigh your words fairly.”
“We surrender to your judgment.” Their foursome’s voices, high and low, crashed like a waterfall, obliterating everything but the here and now.
As I took the pouch from Aanya, the silk ribbon floated away, dancing on a current of air to an inaudible song. The square-shaped fabric fell flat on my palm, revealing four sparkling pieces inside, each no bigger than a pinky nail.
Damia placed the first one on Conall’s palm. “Recite the first vow to me, the witness to your knot,” she commanded him, cupping his hand and folding it into a fist.
“I vow twice.” His jaw ticked as the shard of glass sliced his flesh. “I promise to hold you three as my home.” Conall raised Dain’s hand to kiss his partner’s knuckles. “And I promise not to give any more coffee to Gedeon, so you can have all you want.”
Laughter blanketed the square, its chimes accompanying the crackles of firewood, the heat blasting our exposed skin as mighty as Dain’s blush.
Taking the second fragment meant to draw blood, I strode to Nissa standing at the end of their formation. “Recite the second vow to me, the teller of your future,” I said as I passed her the transparent piece.
“I vow once,” she declared. Both of us closed her palm, and the veins in her hand bulged as the sharp edges punctured her skin. “I promise to give you freedom, to let go if you ask.” Nissa laid a feather-light kiss on Aanya’s forehead. “Always.”
Fishing out the third chip from the pouch, Damia handed it to Aanya and closed her fist. “Recite the third vow to me, the writer of your story.”
The woman as delicate as Eislyn, their kindness unmatched, flinched as the shard opened her capillaries. “I vow thrice. I promise not to run when things get too hard,” she said, sharing a soft smile with me.
A month had been all it took for Aanya to run from my compound to Conall’s after we had smuggled her out of the city. Our proximity to Ilasall had been a challenge too petrifying to overcome for her.
“I promise to always be willing to talk.” Peeking at Dain, she finished, “And I promise to help Conall make you coffee in the mornings.”
Awws shot through the flames reaching for the sky. Aanya hid her bashfulness in Dain’s shoulder, their trust in each other beckoning me to hunt for Kali and Zion again.
The two people I would annihilate the world for, watch it plummet into anarchy, push it over the cliff myself if needed, stood wrapped around each other, as though the rope spread at our feet had slithered to Kali and Zion and secured them in an embrace.
I blamed the smoke from the fires for the moisture pooling in my eyes.
Unsuccessfully hiding a sniffle, I located the last item in the pouch and lowered it on Dain’s waiting palm. “Recite the fourth and the last vow to me, the weaver of your fate.”
“I vow once.” Dain balled his hand, his expression unwavering as the glass sliced him open. “I promise to lift you off the ground when life gets too tough.”
I returned the shard doused with his blood to the bag. Scarlet seeped into the plum velvet, the fabric absorbing the evidence of the self-inflicted wound.
Damia drew her forefinger over the cut in Dain’s palm. “With your blood, we solidify the bond.” She tapped three red dots on Aanya’s, Nissa’s, and Conall’s faces, one on the forehead, one on the nose, and one on the chin.
Following her example, I brushed the injury on Aanya’s palm and marked her three chosen partners with her blood. “With your will, we tether your souls.”
“With your silence, we entwine your hearts.” Damia dipped a digit in Nissa’s wound to brand the three other participants, as per our tradition.
After dropping the last fragment of used glass into the pouch, I collected Conall’s blood myself. “With your touch, we meld your lives,” I hoarsely finished the required sayings while smudging crimson on his partners’ faces.
Damia tapped each of their wounds again, then painted two lines on my face, one on each side, from under my eyes to my jaw. The sticky liquid cooled in the wake of her caress. “I deem their intentions to be pure,” she told me.
Repeating the action, I drew two lines of blood on Damia’s face, each representing the length of the rope resting on the ground and our duo graced with the honor of tying the knot. “I deem their binding to be true,” I spoke the last words.
As we stepped backward, Damia and I gestured at the cord. “Take this rope as the symbol of the days to come,” we recited simultaneously.
Picking up the opposite ends of the tightly woven strings, we waited for their group to form a circle.