Chapter 11 #4
I felt tendons tightening, pulling away from my muscles.
My bones ached like I’d fallen from a great height.
Another step made pressure rise in my skull like a high fever.
The pain made it easier to forget the idea of kneeling before Wesha and asking her to release me from my vow, and it momentarily receded.
I tried to run past it. I had to be able to get farther than this.
For a footling breech, boil your knife and call for a priest of Genna. For a transverse lie, boil your knife and call for a priest of Genna. If one can’t be found, wash your hands with lye soap and make a last attempt at a turn during labor.
I opened my eyes to orient myself, but looking at the Mountain with the intention of climbing it made every muscle in my body lock up, and I fell.
I couldn’t even extend my arms to protect myself, but luckily my head struck the lawn, instead of the path.
It still rang, but that dizziness was barely perceptible over the agony my vow pulled from every sinew in my body.
I imagined myself torn apart into my component atoms as my vow consumed every disobedient part of me.
My muscles were separating from my bones; my tendons were twisting until I was afraid they’d snap.
Something leaked from my nose and wet my upper lip. A nosebleed, probably. Though if it was spinal fluid, I wouldn’t be hurting much longer.
All I needed to do to end my suffering was imagine that I was going to walk back into Taran’s room. All my vows were aligned on that course of action.
But I won’t ever have to cut the baby out, Lascius, I’d exclaimed in horror. I’ll just sing the blessing for an easy labor, and Wesha will turn it.
I was a prideful brat as a child, and I didn’t know how Lascius put up with me long enough to pass on half of what he knew—but it had taken me this long to realize he was trying to pass on something else important.
He’d known, like all the priests must have known, that the gods didn’t love us. They didn’t care for us. They transacted with us, and the price was far too high.
I thought I could sing so well because Wesha had blessed me. I spent my life certain that if I ever called, she’d answer as best she could. Gentle Wesha, the Maiden, who’d sacrificed herself to save the Heavens and the Earth both.
The stories had left out a few facets of her personality, just as much as they’d lied about the nature of the other gods.
Where the Maiden’s favor had failed me, my pride remained, and I lay panting on the ground, trying to summon the strength to stand and keep moving toward the Mountain.
When my vision remained gray around the edges, I gave up on standing and tried to crawl instead.
I would not spend eternity in service to a man I’d once loved.
I gained an inch. Another. There was a rush of darkness as I lost sight, and fear of blindness finally stilled me.
I didn’t lie there very long. Not long enough for dew to chill my skin or the blood on my lip to clot. I heard a door, then the slap of Taran’s bare feet on the path as he made his way to my side. I hadn’t even made it fifty paces from the building.
I hadn’t cried from the pain of trying to break my vow, but I cried at the shame of that. When Taran approached, yawning and sleepy, I tried to curl into a ball, but he squatted next to me and pushed my shoulder to roll me onto my back, which allowed him to briskly pat me down.
“You didn’t even steal anything?” he asked, sounding mildly outraged.
I blinked at him through watery eyes. He hadn’t bothered to dress and wore only loose linen trousers.
He looked very human in the diffuse moonlight, very much like he had when he’d been mine.
When I didn’t answer, he leaned in. “What was your bribe for Wesha? Your sunny personality? It wouldn’t have worked. She was never going to help you.”
I could do no more than bare my teeth and pant as he shook his head at my folly, but when he sighed and reached to pick me up, I managed to grit out a single stop.
“It’s late, Iona,” he said, but he didn’t touch me as I slowly rolled back to my stomach, then dragged my knees underneath me.
I wiped the blood off my face with the sleeve of Wesha’s dress. If I was going to live, and if I was going to have to live here, at least I wouldn’t have to wear it again.
I had to take Taran’s hand to get to my feet, but I tried to make it back without more aid.
As though I had any dignity left. My knees buckled at the threshold of Wesha’s palace, and Taran, who’d been shadowing my slow shuffle, gave up on letting me walk.
He scooped me into the same embrace as the day he died, frowning when it made a sob squeak out of my throat.
If he’d said anything like I didn’t ask you to come here, or you made those vows on purpose, I really could have hated him, even though those would have been true things to say. Instead, he just pressed his cheek to the top of my head and murmured, “I know, I know.”
It didn’t sound like a lie, but how could he possibly understand?
He carried me inside and set me down on his cot, where the bedclothes were still warm from his body. After a moment, I heard the door close.
He went somewhere else to sleep; I didn’t see him again for two days.