chapter ten #2
The soft tones of a hand harp fill the air, and our attention shifts to the podium as a new performer graces the stage.
This time the tavern hushes into absolute silence, and it’s easy to understand why.
Each string she plucks seems to tell its own story, and I’m as captivated as everyone else as she starts to sing a heart-wrenching melody about a pair of mated lovers, bound by fate, where one perishes while the other, cursed with immortality, remains forever devoted to their lost mate.
“What a lovely performance,” Seniia says, wiping her eyes as conversations resume around us. “Makes me happy I’m not immortal.”
Vilder grunts. “It was all right.”
She swats at him. “She did more than all right, you grump!”
A log shifts in the fireplace, sending up a shower of sparks.
I flinch, my stomach recoiling at the familiar sound.
Then the tavern door swings open, letting in a gust of flower-scented night air and festival music, reminding me to breathe again.
Reminding me I’m not braced. Not in Bronich anymore. My gaze darts between the two of them.
“So, uh, are you from here?” I ask.
“No, we are both here for Sa’mahtā. I’m from the island nation of Riverii, and Vilder here is from the Western Plains, from the looks of it.”
He runs his hand through his strawberry-blond hair. “True.”
I study his face carefully. It’s hard not to be captivated by his good looks. His messy hair adds a youthful charm to his strong jawline, and the golden-red color complements his warm skin and deep russet eyes, making him even more handsome.
“See anything you like?” He quirks an eyebrow.
“I—no. I mean, yes. I mean . . .” Why in the name of the Father would he ask such a thing?
“Give her a break, Vilder,” Seniia chides, but I can tell she, too, is amused by my fluster.
“Where is Riverii?” I ask Seniia, grateful for her rescue. Besides her being the easiest to talk with, the Western Plains is obviously in the West.
She gives me a curious look but clarifies. “Riverii is an island nation in the South”—she gestures to the staff leaning against the wall next to her—“and I grew up at the Temple of Briah in Althea—that’s the southernmost point of Riverii. I’m what they call a maiden-born.”
I stare at her staff. It’s similar to the one Ero had. But what is that thing coiling around its shaft? And is it covered in white . . . feathers?
“Aren’t all women maidens before giving birth?” I say, pulling my gaze away from the strange thing. Seniia bursts out laughing again, and even Vilder joins in this time. The smile lights up his face, revealing a dimple in his right cheek.
“It means that my mother was a temple maiden,” she says once she has stopped laughing. “Now she is the high priestess of the temple,” she adds with pride.
Vilder stares at me like I’m a curiosity. “First of all, they”—he points to Seniia—“are called females, not women. Second, where in the name of Zerex did you grow up?”
Right. They’re not humans. I need to remember that.
“In the mountains northeast of here.” I wave my hand in that general direction.
Their expressions grow serious.
“You grew up in the Voidlands?” Seniia’s blue-green eyes are wide.
I frown, my gaze shifting between them. “I grew up in Bronich,” I say.
Seniia turns to Vilder. “She grew up in the Voidlands,” she says to him like I’m not sitting right here.
“Seems like she did,” he replies, and they both turn their attention back toward me.
“How was it growing up under the rule of the Void Father?” Seniia leans in close, like she doesn’t want to miss a word, and even Vilder leans forward to rest his elbows on the table.
“And how did you escape? I’ve heard it’s nearly impossible to leave.
That they will kill anyone who dares try.
” Her beautifully arched eyebrows are raised expectantly.
“Void what?” I have no idea what they’re talking about.
“The Void Father,” she says. “You know, Casimir”—she barely whispers the name, and I notice how Vilder’s hand tightens around his mug—“one of the seven who turned to the Void for powers. The one who caused the Darkening.” Her stare implies I should know all this.
“Fallen god who grows his power by feeding off the dark emotions of the humans—greed and hate and jealousy and fear and that stuff. Ring any bells? You’re human.
” She gestures toward my very human form. “Don’t you know?”
“Right . . .” I say. That would certainly explain why Bronich is in such a miserable state.
Looking back now, it’s quite clear the minister’s ruling method is based on sowing seeds of fear and suspicion.
But this Void Father . . . Could that be .
. . the Father? Chills run down my spine, and my hand instinctively touches my left forearm, where the brace used to be.
It would certainly explain the presence of the umbra.
Seniia turns toward Vilder. “She doesn’t know.” Her perplexed expression tells me I absolutely should.
“She doesn’t know,” he replies.
Clearly, I don’t, which means one thing hasn’t changed. At least Ero isn’t around to point out as much.
“Well, good thing you are here now,” Seniia says to me. “How did you get here, anyway? If you used to live inside the Void, I mean.”
I debate whether to tell them. I’ve just met them, after all. Then I decide a quick recap of my journey is rather harmless. If anything, it may give me some answers.
“He tried to put a brace on you?” Seniia’s eyes are wide as I wrap up the story. “I thought they didn’t even exist anymore.”
“Oh, they exist all right,” Vilder says with a grim expression. “I’ve seen them.”
We both turn to look at him, but he just stares back and doesn’t elaborate.
Seniia is thoughtful for a moment. “Did this Llyr hold your gaze as he made you promise to go to the Arc?” she asks.
I think back to the moment right before we left the pass. “I think so,” I say. “Why?”
“If you close your eyes and take a couple deep breaths to center yourself . . .”
I have no idea what she’s going on about, but I allow the tavern noise to fade to a background murmur as I do as she asks.
“Do you notice any, let’s call it pull, to go anywhere?”
I do. Now that I’m aware what to look for, there’s no doubt there’s a strong pull to go in a certain direction.
It doesn’t feel urgent, but it does feel like I have no choice.
Like it would be impossible to turn and walk back where I came from.
Not as if that’s a possibility in any case.
I frown, eyes still closed. Although it could feel like it at first, this pull isn't coming from my own desires. It’s caused by something outside me, something compelling me forward.
My eyes flare open. He hadn’t just asked for my word, had he? He had magically bound me to it.
“What happens if I refuse to go?”
Seniia exchanges a look with Vilder, whose mouth is pressed into a thin line. Neither of them speaks, but the answer is written in their silence.
I’ll be dead.
“He’s trapped me,” I whisper. My breath comes in shallow gasps, the familiar lack of control triggering a tightening in my chest. I can’t go back to the way things were.
I can’t. I pull at my collar, desperate for air.
“Can’t breathe,” I wheeze, the air thick and heavy in my chest. “Can. Not. Breathe.”
The room tilts, voices blur, and the next thing I know, I’m staring up into Vilder’s russet eyes.
“Are you all right?” Concern is etched all over his face.
I nod, and he helps me back up into my chair.
“You were only out for a moment,” Seniia says. “Luckily, Vilder here has reflexes of another world, so he got you before you hit your head on the floor.” She cocks her head at him. “Rather sexy.”
“For Mah’s sake, Seniia.” He shakes his head. “La?na just fainted, and that’s all you can think about? Aren’t you supposed to be a healer if you grew up at the Temple of Briah?”
She waves a hand at him, then places her left palm on top of my heart and closes her eyes as if listening for something. “She’s fine,” she says after a moment, her blue-green gaze meeting mine. “You are fine, right?”
I nod, even though the anxiety is still clawing at my chest. I take a couple deep breaths to calm myself.
“There is a pull,” I say to Seniia. “Toward there.” I point toward somewhere in the west.
Vilder lets out a low whistle. “That would be the direction of the Arc.”
“What does that mean?” I glance between the two of them.
“It means that your friend Llyr is a fully trained elēn, a C’elēn,” Seniia states. “And a promise given to a C’elēn cannot be broken, as sure as they cannot break a promise given to you. It’s called a soulbinding.”
Soulbinding. Is there nowhere I can go where I won’t be bound? Is there no escape for me? I brace my hand on the table to make sure I’m not falling off the chair again. Secrets. So many secrets. It makes me wonder if anything I know is real.
My destructive thoughts are interrupted by Seniia as she leans in closer, her button nose scrunching in a way that makes her freckles dance.
“You have a strange scent. Not unpleasant, but strange.” She frowns as she leans back in her chair to get a better view of me. “You look human, but, well, as I said, you smell . . .” She wrinkles her nose in that feline sort of way again. “Weird.”
“Why, thank you.” I give her a flat stare. Despite washing myself in the river this morning, my travel-worn clothes probably stink. Maybe you should have had the decency to stay away from people until you had a new set of clothes, La?na.
“No, it’s not that. Or . . . it’s not only that.”
“I think what Seniia is trying to say is that you don’t smell the same as most other humans,” Vilder says, leaning back in his chair.
I press my lips together, face on fire. Are we really discussing how I smell? “And how is that?” I press out.