11. Vows
Vows
“How did it go last night?” Alaric asked cautiously.
When I glanced over my shoulder at him, I saw him watching me from where he stood, a few yards to my right and slightly behind me, on the same square of padded flooring Bones and I used to practice magical combat together.
I knew I wasn’t acting normal.
I knew Alaric sensed something wrong.
I dropped my gaze to the gold, serpent-shaped bracelet wrapped around my wrist and forearm. I wanted to focus on that, on what I was doing here, but now my mind was uncomfortably jerked back to my memories of the night before.
Blackstone had called an emergency meeting with Forsooth as soon as we came out of the vision space. He’d made it clear to me, and to Forsooth when we all talked in the Headmaster’s tower, what an unmitigated disaster this was, Bones taking the vow to be Malefic and Dark Cathedral’s instrument.
I fought to shake off the memory of Forsooth’s face, how worried and pale he’d looked as Blackstone told him everything we’d seen, including the new mark that had been burnt with molten gold into the center of Bones’s chest. It had been the symbol of Anubis and the snakes that Alaric himself once had removed, but it had looked different, even to me.
It glowed as it merged into his skin, looking permanent in a way Alaric’s hadn’t.
The difference was, Alaric hadn’t taken the vow.
Bones had.
I could see how the news impacted Forsooth.
I could also feel that rescuing Bones no longer felt like an option for either of them.
Even if we took him out of the Black Tower, Bones would still be bound to the vow.
He would be dangerous, even outside of his father’s direct control.
He certainly could never be trusted, given his father could simply order him to kill all of us, and his magic would force him to obey.
I fought their interpretation, of course.
I pointed out that they’d successfully removed the tattoo from Alaric, that they’d managed to reverse everything that had been done to him.
Forsooth and Blackstone didn’t really argue with me about the differences in the two situations, but they didn’t need to.
Their silence told me exactly what they believed.
They thought it wasn’t possible to reverse the vow, not for Bones.
“Are you still up for this today?”
Alaric again, now no longer hiding his concern.
I realized I was staring at the wall, watching one of the magical blue flames flicker in its iron holder without focusing on it or speaking.
Isis only knew what expression I had on my face.
I cleared my throat, forcing myself to meet his gaze.
“Did Darragh go ahead with it, then?” I asked. “Did he make it in time to his friend, with the research project on Earth?”
Alaric hesitated, then nodded. “Yes. We got him the gold. He didn’t foresee any problems in getting us as much as we wanted. Apparently, it takes a very small amount to have effect. Darragh seemed to think even a teaspoon per Magical would be far too much.”
“It would,” I agreed. “Far too much.”
It turned out, Alaric’s grand plan, the one Luc wanted me to weigh in on earlier that day, revolved around creating a distraction utilizing human-made hallucinogens.
It had taken me a few minutes to unravel what Alaric was babbling about, partly because I was still recovering from the meeting with Forsooth and Blackstone, but I eventually worked out that Alaric wanted me to approve a plan whereby he and Luc dosed every occupant of the Black Tower with L.S.D.
It would’ve been funny, if I’d heard the idea even a few hours earlier.
Alaric found out about the drug in a conversation with Darragh, who’d heard about it from a cousin of his who was dating a witch trainee in the Praecuri.
Alaric wanted to know from me if the stories were true, and if it might truly throw the entire household into “pure, eye-bleeding, goblin chaos,” as he put it.
He thought if we could dose everyone in Dark Cathedral before I tried to break Bones free, I not only would have time to find Bones, work out a way through the security chimaeras keeping him locked in, and break him out of the main dungeon, I would also have plenty of time left over to look for Varya.
Alaric didn’t come out and say the other part of this, not aloud at least, but I’d also have a better chance of killing Malefic. That part of the plan wasn’t something we talked about openly, but it often hung there, unspoken in the background.
Even Luc hinted a few times he thought it might be necessary.
Partly because I couldn’t bring myself to tell them what I’d just experienced, and partly because it worked to distract me better than anything else we needed to discuss, I’d approved Alaric’s plan. I’d also confirmed that most of what Alaric heard about the drug was true.
We spent another hour discussing different methods of administering the drug, along with possible Magical versus human reactions to it.
“I wanted to talk to you about the collar,” Alaric ventured next.
He seemed to have realized we probably weren’t going to be practicing with the snake jewelry anymore that day.
Alaric offered to come with me when I told him I needed to experiment with the gold bracelet Bones had given me at Yule.
I should have done it weeks ago, but I’d been so focused on learning how to phase, memorizing every detail of Alaric’s map of the Black Tower and its grounds, and learning everything I could about ancient chimaeras and other magical protection spells, I’d struggled to prioritize it.
Everything was taking too long.
It was more than likely I was already too late.
Biting my lip, I stared back down at the snake bracelet.
I completely forgot what Alaric had just asked me.
“So I’m supposed to stroke it, right?” I asked. “Wasn’t that what Bones said?” I swallowed, giving Alaric a bare glance. “The head. He said to stroke the head, and say maam rakshatu whenever I was in trouble.”
Alaric’s eyes flinched, but he nodded. “He said it would call him, too,” he reminded me, his eyes showing discomfort. “That he would feel it when you did it.”
I felt a little sick at the thought, but I only nodded.
I’d somehow forgotten that part of the spell.
“He said it would only work for me,” I said, doing my best to recall his exact words. “He said his magic had worked it so the bracelet would answer only to me.”
“Right,” Alaric affirmed.
He continued to watch me, his eyes cautious. “Are you changing your mind?” he asked. “About us going after him? Trying to break him out of the Black Tower?”
I looked up sharply. “No,” I said. “Why would you ask me that?”
Alaric looked uncomfortable again but only made a vague gesture.
“Could you draw it for me, then?” he asked, his hazel eyes probing mine.
“The collar, I mean. I’m worried that’s going to be more of an obstacle than we’ve calculated for, and I’d really like to have a plan on how to deal with it before we get inside.
” He cleared his throat. “You’ve probably worked out it’s likely a magical restraint of some kind.
I suspect that’s the pain you’ve felt on him, when he tries to speak to you when the collar is activated. ”
I nodded, swallowing. I had more or less worked that out.
“You think you can get it off him?” I asked seriously.
Alaric made a noncommittal gesture. “I would like to figure that out before we get in there. I would also like to know the likelihood of it killing him if we try.”
I nodded to his words, my mouth pursing.
That possibility had occurred to me, too.
“Do you think Bones will fight for his father?” Alaric asked cautiously. “I mean, he might have to, right? I doubt Malefic will give him a choice.”
I felt myself pale, right before I looked my friend directly in the face.
He didn’t know about the loyalty oath. He didn’t know what Blackstone and Forsooth had said the night before.
I might have suspected he was reading my mind, but he wouldn’t have been that clumsy, if he had been.
It was just Alaric, asking an honest question.
He loved Bones. He also knew the issue of what Bones would or wouldn’t do was more complicated than a mere morality puzzle.
“I don’t know.” I hesitated. “Probably. Yes.”
Alaric winced, but I saw agreement in his eyes.
“Yeah.” He sighed. “What do you think the others will do, when he does?” He studied my eyes. “Luc. Nyx. Your friend, Jolie. Forsooth? Will they still help us?”
I frowned, staring down at the mat.
“I honestly don’t know,” I said truthfully. “I hope so.”
Seeing the worry on Alaric’s face, I bit my lip.
“He’s all right,” I said impulsively, feeling guilty for what I was leaving out. “Bones, I mean. Physically, he’s not on death’s door or anything. He’s definitely banged up. But it seems to be lessening now. They hurt him a lot more in the beginning.”
Alaric winced, some of the color draining from his face.
I watched him turn over my words before he nodded.
“Thanks,” he said. “I don’t believe you, but I appreciate it.”
I nodded back, swallowing. I didn’t try to argue with his words.
Even so, the other thing lingered in my mind, enough that I couldn’t seem to let it go.
“When they gave you that tattoo,” I said, clearing my throat. “The gold one, I mean, with the snakes and Anubis… why didn’t they make you take the oath?” I swallowed. “Or did they? Did it just not work for some reason?”
Alaric looked at me, his hazel eyes shrewd.
“You mean the loyalty oath?” he asked, sharper. “The one to Dark Cathedral?”
“Yes,” I said.
Alaric paused, then gave an unconvincing shrug, tugging at the end of one sleeve under his knee-length purple coat.
“They did,” he acknowledged, without looking up.
“The spoke the oath over me and everything. But I didn’t agree to it.
Because I hadn’t actually consented, the ritual just sort of fizzled.
My father was so angry, he gave me the tattoo anyway, and spoke the other thing, about readying me to be a vessel for one of their Resurrecteds.
He’d decided I was hopeless, I suppose. Then that fiasco at the Sanctum happened, thank the gods… and I was freed.”
I swallowed harder, nodding.
“That’s pretty fucked,” I commented.
“It is,” Alaric agreed. “But it felt like a victory, honestly. He couldn’t make me take his perverse vow willingly, could he? He tried, but he failed.”
I bit my tongue until I tasted blood.
“So you would’ve had to agree on some level?” I clarified.
Alaric shrugged. “Well, sure. That’s how magic works, isn’t it? All magic is a kind of pact you make with the gods and beings of the Aether. It won’t work if the party involved isn’t willing. That’s doubly true when it comes to being bound.”
Alaric paused thoughtfully, gazing up at the dark ceiling of the shed.
“I think with a real vow,” he added. “Like what my father wanted from me, implicit agreement would never be enough. A fear of saying no wouldn’t cut it, either.
One would have to actually agree to the terms of the vow.
The ritual would fall apart unless the vow-giver actually, truly submitted to the binding in word and thought.
It cannot be faked. There’s no way to pretend. One must mean it. Wholeheartedly.”
I didn’t answer.
I wasn’t even sure I was surprised.
Maybe because I’d already known.
Hell, Bones had more or less told me.