by Ivy Asher
“Holy shit, that’s it!” I realize. I turn to the guys. “You’ve been telling me over and over again that we’re a family, a unit, stronger and better together, but I just wasn’t getting it. That’s it!” I shout again, and then I take off running down the street.
Shouts of confusion and my name sound off behind me, but I know they’ll catch up. Excitement surges through me, and I feel like an idiot. I’ve been trying to do this all on my own, but I’m not on my own anymore. I’m an idiot for not seeing it sooner, but now that I have, I don’t want to waste another second.
I barrel down the streets, careening through the empty market place that was bustling the last time we came through here. Torrez sprints up next to me, followed by Siah and then Bastien.
“Come on, slow pokes,” I shout over my shoulder, and I hear Sabin grumble, “I’ll show you slow poke.”
I laugh, which probably makes me look as unhinged as fuck, but I don’t care. I call on my runes and move faster.
“Care to tell us why we’re running down the streets in the middle of the night?” Siah asks me casually.
“Because I figured it out,” I offer vaguely, pressing to move even faster.
Getta’s gate comes into view in the distance, swaying like it’s a finish line banner. I hurtle over it, almost clipping my foot and dress on an iron rod and face planting. I pound on Getta’s door, my knock urgent and demanding.
“She’s probably sleeping,” Sabin tells me when no one answers after a couple minutes, and I bang on the door again.
“Then she’ll wake up,” I tell him, and he shakes his head.
“Did I not just tell you Sentinels have a superiority complex?” Torrez teases, and I elbow him as I raise my hand to knock again.
The door swings open, and Issak peers down at all of us irritably.
“I need to speak with Getta,” I tell him, and he studies me for a long drawn out moment before nodding once and then slamming the door in my face.
I squeal in excitement at what I know is going to go down next, and I move away from the door and head in the direction of the backyard. I call on my staff and wait patiently like the good grasshopper I am. After a handful of minutes, Issak exits out of a back door, cradling a feeble looking Getta.
“Ah, so the girl is back for more, I see,” she announces, and I don’t miss the excitement in her tone.
I’ve spent my whole life proving to people that they should never underestimate me, and then what did I go and do? I underestimated Getta the first chance I had to get some answers. Well, not this time.
Issak sets Getta down gently on the packed dirt, and she stretches out her back and lifts her head to the sky.
“It’s a mighty fine night for an ass kicking, don’t you agree, Issak?”
Issak smiles and moves to lean casually against the back of the house. I laugh and shake my head at Getta. Too bad I’m not related to her. She feels more like my people than anyone I’ve met on this side of the barrier.
“Well, girl, I don’t know why you’d get all fancied up for another lesson in losing, but whatever blows your skirt up, I suppose.” She eyes my clothing. “Judging by the look of that thing, it wouldn’t take much to blow it clean off. Issak, close your eyes,” she instructs.
I look over at Issak, and he just rolls his eyes.
I ignore her efforts to get me all riled, and wait patiently for what I know is coming. She smiles at me when I don’t take her bait, and I can almost feel pride rippling off of her. She nods at me and then calls on her staff. She studies it for a beat and then presses one end into the dirt and leans on it.
“Tell me, girl, are you worthy?” she finally asks me, and anticipation strikes through me, sending my heart racing.
“Alone, maybe not, but together,” I tell her, gesturing with my staff to my Chosen, “we are.”
Getta stares at me intensely for what seems like forever. I feel like she dives into my soul, swims around for a bit, and then climbs back out to dry off. She twirls her staff in her hands expertly, and I tense, waiting for the attack that I know is coming.
She reaches out, slow as cold honey, and then flicks the end of my nose. I reel back.
“So you do have a brain in that pretty little head of yours,” she cackles. “Glad to see you’re using it now. Very well then, follow me,” she instructs.
With that, her staff disappears and she starts to hobble away.
I stare at her, open mouthed and dumbfounded.
Wait. What the fuck just happened?
24
I look back at the guys, completely bewildered, as Issak swoops in and picks up Getta.
“Wait. Are we not fighting?” I ask, and there’s a tinge of disappointment in my voice that has me questioning my own sanity.
Getta’s backing down, Vinna, this is a good thing. Shut the fuck up!
She cackles from the safety of Issak’s arms and motions for me to follow her. “The fighting was just for fun. If you’ve decided you’re worthy, who am I to say otherwise?”
I stop mid step with those words, and Ryker slams into my back, creating a domino effect of crashing Chosen. “Hold up,” I call out to Getta, and Issak turns around to face me. “If I’ve decided I’m worthy? Is the fight not a test?”
“Oh, no, that’s just to get these old bones a moving.”
“But...but you said I wasn’t worthy,” I ask confused.
“No, girl, you said you weren’t worthy. Like I said, who am I to argue?”
Issak once again turns around and angles his large frame into the back door of the house. I turn to look at the guys, incredulous squeaks coming out of my open mouth.
“Is she seriously fucking telling me that if I had just said yes, I’m worthy in answer to her question last time that we’d already have answers?”
“Sounds like it,” Torrez confirms.
I groan and rub at my face.
“Seems like that existential crisis you’ve been wrestling with was all for nothing,” he adds.
“All that brooding for nothing?” I squeak out.
“Don’t forget the pouting too,” Bastien adds, and I slap his pec and try not to smile.
I don’t know if I want to scream or crack up right now.
“You kids coming?” Getta hollers out from the open back door, and I glare at her house.
Well played, you wrinkled old ninja. Well fucking played.
Knox slaps me on the ass as he passes, and like an obedient steed, it gets me moving. I rub my cheek and follow him into Getta’s house, the lights dim and the furnishings quaint. There’s a very warm and homey feel to the inside of her cottage that makes me want to sink into a big chair and just chill. There are books everywhere and the kind of clutter it seems all elderly people tend to have. Issak sets Getta into a rocking chair that has intricate carvings of deer and other creatures all over it, and she’s wiggling around to get comfortable.
He sits at her feet, and even sitting, he’s still taller than she is. I stare at his gargantuan size before Getta motions for all of us to sit down, and it pulls me from my gawking. There’s a fire going, and it gives off a comforting glow as shadows dance on the cottage walls. I sit next to Getta on a small stool, and the guys all find perches here and there too.
“So, girl, tell me what it is you want to know, or do you expect me to read your mind as well as your heart?”
I shake my head again at the realization that Getta got me, and I sort through the lists of questions I’ve been making note of in my mind since I was young. I start at the top.
“What are Sentinels, and where do we come from?” I ask, my voice strong and clear, and the room goes quiet with anticipation.
“Well, fuck, you don’t have anything smaller we can start with?” she asks. “No foreplay questions?”
Knox busts out laughing and promptly tries to cover it up when Getta gives him a glare.
“Issak, be a good lad and make some tea for everyone. I have a feeling it’s going to be a
long night if that’s where we’re starting,” she giggles.
Issak says nothing as he rises and ducks through a doorway that leads out of the room. I hear the clanging of dishes and water filling something.
Getta clears her throat and begins to rock her chair rhythmically back and forth. “We come from a different place whose name most no longer remember. We were one branch of many magical branches, but we got it in our heads that we should always be at the top of the tree. With promises and power, we enslaved others, and we lived that way for a very long time.”
Getta stares at the fire as she talks, and I find myself hypnotized by the light flickering over her worn face as she starts to weave it all together.
“With time, the people we squashed under our boot—for no one’s sake aside from our own—rose up and demanded no more. It started with battles and quickly turned into wars. We were arrogant and powerful, but our numbers have always grown slowly. That, however, was not the case for the ones who we fought against. In less than a century, we went from hunter to hunted, and our people were desperate.”
I lean forward, my heart hammering in my chest. I have to keep from pinching myself just to make sure this is actually happening. I’ve waited so long for answers, and here they are, spilling so freely from Getta’s thin aged lips.
“We awoke the gates of old, the ones that first brought beings to our land, and fled everything we ever knew to start over. But did we learn our lesson? Did we change our ways?”
Getta scoffs and shakes her head.
“I’m going to go with no on that one,” Valen states, and laughter flutters around the room.
“You would be right, boy. Because when we arrived here, we once again wanted to be the top of the tree. It wasn’t enough that we could be the root or the trunk. The Ouphe of old didn’t see that as a position of strength. They just saw the surrounding branches and wanted to top them all. And so history repeated itself until we were once again forced to flee. By then, the gates were closed to us. There weren’t enough with the Bonds to open them, so we hid, and thus Tierit was created.”
“What is the Ow-f?” I ask, trying to repeat a word she used to describe the older generation.
“The Ouphe is what we once were and must fight to never become again. We have abandoned those ways of thinking and the magic that made it all possible. Only a handful of Bond Weavers still exist. They keep to themselves and only use their light rarely as it now sparks fear in most.”
Issak stalks into the room and hands Getta a cup and saucer. She takes it with a grateful smile, and then he turns and presses another cup and saucer into my hands.
“Oh, thank you,” I tell him, to which he grunts and disappears back into what I assume is the kitchen.
He returns several more times until everyone has tea, and then he once again takes his place at Getta’s feet. I sip my tea and have to fight every instinct in my body not to spit it back out. I swallow and try not to gag. I give the cup and then Issak a dirty look for trying to poison me.
“What exactly is this tea?” I ask, trying to sound polite and failing.
Getta laughs. “Best to shoot it straight back if you’re not used to it. It’s good for the circulation.”
I stare at my cup and cringe. Eh, what the hell. Bottoms up.
I toss back the tea that tastes like moldy farts and hold my breath. As I swallow it, I secretly try to wipe my tongue with the skirt of my dress before giving up on the discreet part of that plan and just going for it. I see out of the corner of my eye some of the guys gagging and cringing, and I chuckle knowing my taste buds are not alone in their suffering.
“Interesting,” I croak out as Getta looks at me with raised eyebrows like she’s asking me what I think.
She sips her tea with not even a trace of a grimace, and I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes. Like she really needs to prove she’s more of a badass than me. We all already know it.
“You have traces of the old magic in your veins, girl,” she tells me, jerking her chin toward my lap where my hands are folded.
I look down to see what she’s gesturing at and see the new rune on my palm that none of us have tested out yet. “Do you mean this?” I ask, holding the rune up.
“I do.”
“What does it mean…and do?”
“It’s very rare. It means you not only claim your Chosen with your marks, but with your magic as well.”
My brow furrows with confusion. “I thought all Sentinels used magic to mark their Chosen?”
“That they do,” Getta agrees. “But they can only share their marks. You can share your marks and your magic. That is what is rare. Your mama could do it too.”
“Hold up, are you saying that all of us now have the same branches of magic that Vinna does?” Sabin asks, the surprise in his tone reflecting the look on the rest of our faces.
“Yes,” Getta replies simply as she takes another sip of her fuck nasty tea. “It also means that you can pull and give power at will to each other. Each member of your Chosen will be able to share their abilities when this rune is activated.”
“So they could become wolves?” Torrez asks excitedly.
“Yes,” Getta once again answers simply.
“Holy shit!” I exclaim, and we all look at each other even more wide-eyed.
“Now, before you go start playing around with this and get yourselves killed, this kind of magic is rare for a reason. Like with all things, it can be used for good and for bad. In the past, the bad has prevailed, which is why Bond users are hunted by many kinds. You need to keep these abilities quiet and watch yourselves. Not many know what the runes of that branch look like anymore, but they do know what the light does, and they will snuff it out if they find it.”
Getta’s ominous words settle in the room, and we all grow quiet and contemplative.
“What about my Shields?”
Getta looks down at my unmarked middle finger. “What about them?”
“I have marked four Shields—”
“But not sealed them, I see,” she observes, and I nod.
“The thing is, they were marked by another Sentinel when we got here.”
“As Shields?” Getta asks, surprised.
“No, as Chosen,” I explain.
“Ahhh, I see,” she tells me. “The people of this world can only be marked by one Sentinel. Whether that be as a Shield or as a Chosen. If you complete what you started and make them true Shields, then the Chosen claim will sever.”
Relief washes through me, and I let out a long exhale. We can all get out of here. I just need to do whatever it is that needs to be done to complete my marking of Enoch, Nash, Kallan, and Becket.
“Now, girl, I can see that you are a purveyor of excellent male specimens.”
Torrez, Bastien, and Knox all snort out laughs. I roll my eyes at them.
“If Issak here wasn’t already spoken for, he would be a good fit for you and your Chosen.”
This time I give a surprised snort, and Issak gives me a look.
“No offense, she just took me by surprise. I’m sure you’d be an excellent mate,” I tell him. He blinks once and then turns away.
“My point is, girl, that you have an excellent and deliciously varied selection of Chosen. Why exactly do you need Shields?”
Getta’s question takes me aback. “But I marked them; clearly, my magic felt that I needed them,” I defend.
“Oh I agree that they are needed, but is it truly by you, or is it by the other Sentinel that marked them?” She poses the question, and I pause to really think about it.
I notice out of the corner of my eye that Bastien is fidgeting in his chair. I ignore it and think through my connection with Enoch, Nash, Kallan, and Becket. I look at them like brothers and good friends. They’ve never felt like Chosen to me, and yet I’ve always felt compelled to bring them along with me from the moment their marks showed up.
Valen and Sabin seem to get wiggly in their seats too, and I wonder if
they have to pee.
“If they could have more than what they would have being my Shields, then I would want that for them,” I admit, and Getta nods. “But will they have that with this Sentinel? She seems like she hates them,” I add, hoping Getta can offer some kind of reassurance or guidance.
Ryker proceeds to start crossing and uncrossing his legs, and I look over at him.
Did these dudes get ants in their pants or something?
“That is an excellent question,” Getta declares, and I focus back on her. “An excellent question that’s really none of your fucking business,” she finishes, and I chuckle and shake my head at her.
Torrez and Siah move like they’re uncomfortable, and I look over at them, puzzled. Fuck, the wiggles got them too?
Getta starts to say something else, but I don’t pay attention to it as I’m too busy watching all of my Chosen fidget and move like they’re going to pee their pants at any moment. They look uncomfortable as fuck, and I can’t figure out what’s going on.
“It’s the tea,” Sabin’s voice shouts in my mind.
“What?” I ask, even more confused.
“There must have been something in the tea, because we’re all sporting major wood right now!” he declares.
I look down at his crotch and then Bastien’s. I bust out laughing.
Getta gives me a knowing look, and I crack up even harder. “You brew your tea with Viagra?” I ask her, and she giggles.
“I don’t know what that is, but I did tell you it was good for the circulation, didn’t I?” Getta cackles, and all the guys look even more uncomfortable.
“Go, girl, have your way with them, and then come back and tell me all about it.”
My head jerks to Getta, shocked. Did this crazy old lady just say that? She nods like she’s confirming my unspoken thought, and I don’t know if she is goals or if she should be avoided at all cost.
“I guess that’s our cue to go,” I announce to my Chosen. They all slowly get up, shielding themselves with throw pillows and hands and quickly turn their backs on the very dirty old lady.