Oathen

by Giacomo, Jasmine

  …But can he? Geret looked at her hand so long, she feared he would refuse her, forcing her to join herself to Salvor forever. Just as she became convinced that he was rejecting her choice, his warm hand reached out and grasped hers.

  “Where do I sign?” He squeezed her hand, and her shoulders slumped in relief.

  “No…!” Rhona’s grief-stricken denial echoed in the room; she turned and bolted back into the hallway.

  Salvor glanced at Ruel, who glared back at him with crossed arms. “This is your fault,” the pirate accused.

  “Mine?” Salvor asked in disbelief, while Sanych and Geret looked at each other, confused. “Fine.” He stalked after Rhona. That didn’t seem to make Ruel any happier; if anything, he looked more upset.

  Ahm cleared his throat. “Let’s get started, then, shall we?”

  ~~~

  Salvor saw Rhona enter a small storage room down the hall and followed her in, closing the door. The darkness inside smelled of dried herbs, salted meat, stone and dust.

  “Rhona, I’m sorry it turned out this way.”

  “It’s not fair!” she cried, lashing out with a fist in the dark room. It glanced off his chest, and he grabbed her hand, drawing her to him.

  “Fair is in the eyes of the chooser,” he told her, putting his arms around her, feeling the double bite of his words. His chances to redeem himself to Sanych had just come to an end.

  She shrugged away from his touch. “Last night was a mistake,” she said, flinging her bitter words like knives.

  He took a deep breath. “The part where I bedded you? Or the part where you called me ‘Geret’?”

  “I…”

  He reached for her in the darkness, brushing her arm. She tried to jerk away, but he caught her sleeve and dragged her to him, spinning around and pressing her against the wall. His body crashed against hers, and the force of his mouth meeting her lips thumped her head against the stone.

  She filled his mouth with Clan curses and shoved at him with her hands, but he grasped her wrists and pinned them next to her shoulders. Her chest heaved against his, and her scent filled his nostrils. His mouth was just as skilled as it had been the night before, and gradually her resistance melted away. The kiss grew gentle, sensual. Her hands slipped from his grasp and knotted in his tunic, pulling him against her.

  “My name,” he panted, finally breaking the kiss, “is Lord Salvor Thelios, and when you tell your friends that I was the best you ever bedded, and how I’ve spoiled you for Clan boys forever—by Folly’s little pink bastards, you’d better get my name right!”

  Rhona put her hands on his chest and moved him back a step so she wasn’t pinned against the wall. Her hands trailed down his arms, then she wrapped his arms around her waist. He laced his fingers together at the small of her back, and she brought his face down to hers for another kiss.

  “You are the best,” she confessed in a whisper, her words a secret gift in the lightless room. “And I hate you for it.” Her voice broke, but it wasn’t bitterness that spilled out; it was merely the dry apathy of emotional exhaustion.

  Salvor remained silent, holding her, taking momentary pleasure in her warmth and companionship, as he’d chosen to do last night. His life, dedicated as it was to Geret’s safety and eventual return to Vint, had never truly been his to do with as he pleased. Any pleasure he enjoyed was, by necessity, soon set aside.

  That includes Sanych now. She’ll never be within my reach again.

  “Stay with me,” Rhona murmured. “I can’t bear to go watch.”

  “As the lady wishes,” Salvor said into her curls.

  Rhona began to sob quietly, and he held her close in the darkness, smoothing her hair as her tears soaked into his tunic.

  ~~~

  Sanych stood on the white stone dais, shivering in fear, as magic-tinged water flowed around her bare ankles. She squeezed her eyes shut, chest heaving. Cracking her magic open had been bad enough; the sudden ability to wield light had gone to her head, and she was still only half-trained in its use. Now, standing barefoot before friends and strangers, she braced herself for the spell that would bind her forever to a man she couldn’t trust. How in Folly’s name did my safe, comfortable life lead me to this moment?

  Below, Meena held her gaze with a smile. Behind Sanych, Geret stood in his own pool with his back to her. Several feet of dry stone separated them.

  Ahm spoke to the silent, watching audience. “This spell employs elements of each candidate’s soul in order to make the binding permanent. These elements will be represented by a color that floods the pools of water. No one can say ahead of time what that color will be, nor what it will mean, since each Oathbinding is unique. Rarely, the Oathbound pair have similar shades reflected in each pool, but by far the majority are represented by different colors entirely, making their bonding greater than the sum of its parts.

  “Let the souls’ elements come forth,” Ahm chanted. Sanych looked down as color flooded her pool; the water burbled a pale green.

  Geret breathed slowly and deeply, trying to calm his nerves as he stood in his own red-gold pool. He knew in a few minutes his head was going to be filled with Sanych’s emotions, and he dreaded it. He’d been a fool, kissing her when she was with Salvor, and he regretted not telling her straight away about Rhona. He hadn’t found time since they’d landed in Shanal, either. I wonder if she’ll ever forgive me, he thought, biting the inside of his lip, for the kiss, or for the deception. He thought ahead to their eventual return to Vint. Folly, that’ll be awkward. A prince and an Archivist? At least, he comforted himself, my uncle won’t be able to marry me off anymore. I’d never do that to Sanych after this. Not for anything.

  “Sanych,” Ahm said, interrupting his train of thought, “is it your Oath to guard and protect Geret, body and soul, to aid and not hinder him, to set yourself with him against all who oppose you, and to never raise your hand against him?”

  Geret held his breath, waiting.

  ~~~

  Sanych bit her trembling lip. She looked down at Meena, her friend and mentor for the last year. Meena met her eyes with a fervent gleam in her own. He must think so little of me, she thought, to wall himself away from me for so long. But Meena needs me to do this. The whole world needs me to do this. I’ve even managed to convince Salvor that I’m doing it to save Geret’s life. Have I convinced myself of anything? Her eyes drifted from Meena’s, and she shut them tight as her true feelings for Geret flooded to the fore. Only that I love him despite his faults, mad as that sounds. If nothing else mattered but protecting him, I’d still be standing here.

  Sanych took a big breath and nodded. “Yes, this is my Oath.”

  ~~~

  Ahm turned to Geret. “Geret, is it your Oath to guard and protect Sanych, body and soul, to aid and not hinder her, to set yourself with her against all who oppose you, and to never raise your hand against her?”

  She hesitated so long…was I wrong? Maybe she doesn’t love me. Maybe it is just duty to her country that made her pick me. Geret’s doubts swirled, but he’d given his word, so with a heavy heart he replied, “Yes. This is my Oath.”

  The watching Scions murmured and nodded their approval. Meena grinned broadly, and Kemsil nodded, smiling. Ruel shook his head and looked down the hall where Rhona had fled.

  “Then, by the magic of the earth, and by the dragons’ blessings, let these two be bound by their Oath,” Ahm intoned, “forever.”

  ~~~

  Sanych braced herself for the binding, expecting Geret’s feelings to crash into her mind. Instead, the pool around her feet swirled and expanded, and the stone between her and Geret melted away.

  The first images tiptoed into her mind: Geret, as a young boy, laughing and scampering through a field of wheat, escaping his father’s wrath for his latest prank. Older, he grinned, revealing missing front teeth, and handed a stolen peach to his cousin Addan, who sighed and rubbed its fuzz against his cheek. Sanych’s breath caught at the confusion and
loss young Geret felt, sensing the change in his playmate.

  Geret frowned as an image coalesced in his head: Sanych, no older than three, reading a book on a woman’s lap. A slightly older Sanych, blonde wisps of hair blowing in the wind, holding the hands of two women—one with dark brown hair, the other with lighter hair—as they approached the Temple, never to see her mother or father again. Geret’s heart twanged, and he was filled with a sharp ache of empathy.

  More images flowed through their minds: Sanych’s first day out of Highnave, looking for Meena. Geret’s puzzlement at being invited to live at the Magister’s palace. How Meena had healed her hand and fed her snow weasel soup. How he’d laughed when he bested Salvor in their first duel. Her aching sense of loss when she thought Meena had abandoned her just as the quest set out. His rage and frustration at leaving some of his fellow Vintens on the riotous dock at Yaren Fel. Her sudden fear as she realized her earliest memories had been stolen—then forgetting that too.

  Sanych’s breath came faster; her eyes unfocused.

  Geret trembled and closed his eyes, tipping his head back.

  How she’d hated him for slicing Salvor’s cheek open! He felt seventeen kinds of fool for allowing himself to kiss her—why she hadn’t slapped him, he’d never understand. But she’d been flattered, as well as confused. He’d only kept his distance in Salience because Salvor had convinced him to. She’d looked forward to his visits to her library room more than she’d expected; she found him to be everything Salvor was not.

  The waters beneath their feet joined and swirled. The colors did not mix, but edged alongside one another, creating a sinuous barrier between them. Sanych’s green reached around the pool’s edge toward Geret’s feet, and his reddish gold slid toward hers.

  Rhona. She towered between them like a sea goddess. Geret ran his fingers through his hair, clenching them into fists. “I’m sorry, Sanych,” he said aloud.

  Geret’s mind saw an image of Sanych, curled in her bunk aboard the Princeling with her hands over her ears, trying to block the sounds of Geret and Rhona’s spirit-induced trysting.

  Sanych was assaulted with images of the same scene, yet from the other side of her cabin wall. She couldn’t shut them out; they were inside her eyelids. Sanych cried out wordlessly; her voice was filled with rage and denial. Yet, as she watched, Geret’s foreplay session with Rhona ended prematurely when the pirate greedily drank straight from a bottle of green liquid, then toppled off the bed in a blissful daze. Geret giggled down at her, then fetched an old book and the inkwell and began scrawling notes across its pages before tearing them out and flinging them around the room.

  Sanych’s eyes flew wide; she dared not breathe. Geret hadn’t bedded the pirate captain after all.

  ~~~

  Sanych stood in her jade-hued water and sobbed into her hands, uncertain, overwhelmed. One final image slipped in quietly: Geret rolled into a sprawl among falling snowflakes at the top of a cliff, filled with skyrocketing hope. He realized that she was angry with him because she loved him, and that he had a chance to redeem himself in her eyes. A chance he desperately wanted.

  The water beneath Sanych’s feet blazed; bicolored light radiated onto the ceiling above. A large section of jade water pushed through to Geret’s feet and began swirling around his ankles. Golden-red water surrounded Sanych’s feet as well. A widening sensation filled her mind, and slowly she became aware of Geret’s feelings, jumbled and mixed as they were, as a small portion of her consciousness.

  Sanych lowered her hands from her face, wiping at her tears, her eyes flicking back and forth as she analyzed these new sensations. A warm euphoria spread through her chest as Geret’s love for her made itself perfectly clear.

  “You weren’t lying,” she blurted, turning toward Geret.

  “You didn’t give up on me,” he said, turning to Sanych.

  Their eyes met. They stood mere steps apart, seeing each other as they truly were for the first time, all secrets falling away.

  The spell was complete.

  Geret’s throat let slip a whimper of longing. As one, they rushed together, eyes locked, hands reaching. Sanych threw her arms around his neck, tumbling into him as they splashed down together. He gathered her close, and they sank to their knees in the shallow, warm water. She dug her fingers into his long brown hair and pulled his head down, meeting his lips hungrily with her own.

  Geret sieved his fingers through her pale golden hair with one hand as he crushed her to him with the other arm. “I’m so sorry,” he confessed against her cheek, “I didn’t know how much I loved you until after—”

  “It’s all right,” she murmured. “You weren’t mine then. I had no right—”

  His dark eyes burned. “But you do now.”

  ~~~

  As the pair kissed again, Meena smiled inquiringly at Ahm, noticing the grins on the other Oathbound couples’ faces. “That typical?” she asked, nodding in the direction of the dais.

  Ahm smiled. “Either that, or a full-arm slap,” he replied.

  “Or both,” a Scion woman said, and her Oathen chuckled.

  “Ah.” Meena grinned.

  “You didn’t experience this at your Oathbinding?” Ahm asked, curious.

  Meena lowered her head, smiling in remembrance. “Arisson and I were already married. They cleared the room for us.”

  Ahm’s eyes widened. “Oh,” he said, clearing his throat with a grin. “That does happen, sometimes, with existing couples. It’s a powerful spell.”

  Meena grinned, her cheeks warm. “That it is,” she said, watching the two new Oathens cling to each other, wet, happy, and completely distracted from the fact that all too soon, they’d be walking into mortal danger. “That it is.”

  Chapter Thirty-three

  When they’d dried off and ascended to the castle’s high-ceilinged dining hall, Sanych let go of Geret’s hand and demonstrated to the others her ability to blink between locations and to turn her light in on itself, making her or her shield invisible. She started to go into heavy detail, but when she felt Geret’s ability to follow her explanation begin to wane, she stopped. Curzon would be the only one able to grasp her theory anyway, and he wasn’t there.

  Rhona and Salvor walked in just then. The tension boiling off of them was palpable to Sanych, despite the amorous afterglow of the Oathbinding spell. Or, she wondered, has it made me more sensitive?

  “But this is wonderful, Sanych,” Ahm said. “Your talent could save us days of travel. We could coordinate a simultaneous large-scale attack on all of Dzur i’Oth’s known locations! It’s the sort of power that Oolat alone has possessed until now. Your gift could turn the tide of this long war and end it.”

  “There aren’t any Scions who can transport like this?” Sanych asked, surprised.

  Sosta shook her head, a wry smile on her face. “Each cell has only a few spellcasters, and none so blessed as to have the gift of controlling light. We did have one, a man named Jelm, a few cycles before I was born, but…”

  Sanych saw a look of surprise flicker over Meena’s face, then it was gone. “He was killed?” she asked in sympathy.

  “No,” Sosta replied. “He left Shanal; he and his Oathen didn’t meld well. You know that magical gifts are heritable? They also tend to occur in future generations, although new ones emerge regularly as we marry non-Scions. It was a great blow to our cause when Jelm left; he was a strong spellcaster.” She shook her head, and then met Sanych’s eyes and smiled. “You can see why we’re so ecstatic to have you join us. Most of us are strictly warriors of the hack-and-slash variety. Only our spellcasters and our Oathbinding truly enable us to stand up to the cult. With your magic, and with Meena’s help, I have a good feeling about our chances at destroying Dzur i’Oth.”

  Sanych nodded. She caught the look on Meena’s face and was disturbed to see the predatory gleam in the Shanallar’s eyes. No, that is why we’re here: to rain death. I’ll just help that rain fall faster.

  “A
nd we can’t wait any longer to get that done,” Meena said. “Oolat probably has the Tome by now.”

  “His first order of business will be to destroy us,” Ahm added. “We need to warn the other cells to be extra vigilant tonight, and we must plan an assault as soon as possible. Sanych, can you take me to them?”

  Sanych gulped. It was one thing to transport herself, or a rock, but to be responsible for another’s life as well? She let out a breath and nodded. Stepping close, she took Ahm’s hand. In a moment they were gone.

  ~~~

  When they finally blinked back into the dining hall, Sanych was chilled and exhausted. She’d taken Ahm to every other Scion cell, often by blinking along their last known path until they crashed into their protective spells, which hadn’t been pleasant. The cell leaders had arranged a coordinated attack at dawn on the Dragon Temple, the farmhouse, the Ochre Tower and other known Dzur i’Oth locations.

  “Thank you, Sanych,” said Ahm. “Now go get some sleep. We have a vital day ahead.”

  Sanych stumbled toward the stairs, not looking forward to all the blinking she’d have to do in the morning.

  “You going to stay awake long enough to find a bed?” came Geret’s voice.

  She looked up, seeing him waiting right where her sense of him said he was: across the room at the base of the staircase. “I think so,” she said, smiling.

  He came forward and put an arm around her waist, and together they climbed to the third floor.

  “Listen, Sanych,” Geret said, “will you help me with something? Just for a minute.”

  Sanych frowned, trying to read his mood, but received only an image of a starry night sky. “What is it?” she finally asked out loud.

  He bit the inside of his lip. “Will you come in with me?” he asked, tipping his head toward a nearby, unoccupied room.

  Her brows instantly lowered, and unhappy associations flowed from her mind to his. He pursed his lips. “I’m not going to live that down easily, am I?”

  Her silent stare was her only answer, but she sensed the ache it made in his chest.