The Bond of Blood

by Kody Boye

  “Yes sir,” Odin nodded. “I understand.”

  Miko took place at the foot of the bed. He closed his eyes, expelled a breath, then inhaled another. “The sirens,” he began, his head slightly downturned and his eyes cast to the floor, “are what are believed to be the descendants of angels fallen from the highest parts of the heavens. You as well as anyone should know that the angels are the supposed harbingers of the gods—the ones whom, by definition and purpose, are said to deliver the souls of the dead to the other realms of the existence. They sing for the gods, trumpet for kings, sing hymns of holy power upon the death of a mortal and raise their souls from the earth. The sirens, however, were angry, bitter and jealous of those far more beautiful than them, and for that began to plot against their companions. Some, it is said, were slain, and their bodies could be seen falling from the skies and burning in the air, as a true holy creature is never allowed to touch the ground. When their crimes were committed, the gods cast them out, where they were banished to the deepest parts of the sea to forever be imprisoned to the water.”

  “I thought angels were like birds?” Odin frowned.

  “They bear similarities—the wings on their arms and the beaks on their faces—but true angels bear no human similarity. I believe humanity has tainted the legends and have made such creatures more human than they actually have appeared in the past.”

  “Why do they sing?”

  “For vengeance, in anger, with hate. They lure men to the deepest parts of the ocean, and in the final moments of their lives impregnate themselves with their seed in order to reproduce. But before you ask, I must clarify: the voice alone isn’t what lures men to the deep. The magic imbued within the note is what drives any mortal man who hears it to depths of the ocean.”

  “Why didn’t I want to go to them then?”

  “You’re a Halfling, Odin.”

  He swallowed a lump in his throat.

  So that was why he hadn’t been attracted to the sound—why, in the brink of a moment, he’d been able to maintain a level head and a steady course of action while fighting with Nova.

  “But sir,” Odin said. “My head was spinning.”

  “You are still half human.”

  “But if I was suffering from the effects, shouldn’t my body have been fighting with itself?”

  “Maybe it was. Maybe the ache in your head was caused by your mortal and immortal self fighting within you.”

  “But I don’t understand…”

  “It depends on which side of your blood is stronger.”

  So, Odin thought, sighing. I’m more Elf than I am human.

  “All right,” he said, a bit troubled by the revelation.

  “There’s nothing to be worried about. This act of your body was what kept both yourself and Nova alive. Think of it as a blessing. To know that human rationale is null when dealing with creatures that prey on mortal men is a great gift to have, especially when such things are prevalent in the wilder parts of the world.”

  “I’m trying, sir. It’s just that—”

  “Don’t say that you did nothing to help the others. You could do nothing.”

  “But I—”

  “Even I could do little more than try and keep some of the men from diving down. But, as you saw, even that didn’t work out perfectly.”

  The image of a man clawing at his ears entered Odin’s mind. “I remember,” he said, attempting to shake the thought from his head.

  “There are limits to what we can achieve in this world, Odin. I myself once thought that, because I was born of both the dark and pure, that I would be more powerful than anything I could have ever imagined. It wasn’t long afterward that I learned I had just as many weaknesses as any other creature.”

  “The blood cough,” he said.

  “A prime example of one of my greatest faults. Can I control this? No. Can you control that you were overwhelmed with so much going on? No. I don’t believe you can, so do not think you did nothing. Saving Nova ensured that he would see his wife again.”

  Odin bowed his head. Here he had just tried to change the conversation, yet he’d brought it back onto himself.

  “Do you want to know what one of your biggest faults is, Odin?”

  “What, sir?”

  “I asked—”

  “No,” he said, grimacing. He waited a moment for the Elf to continue, but when he didn’t, he sighed. “I want to know what my fault is.”

  “You worry too much.”

  Odin blinked. “That’s it?” he asked.

  “That’s a fault that can kill you. Say Nova went under, lured to the depths by the very thing that you were attempting to keep him from. What would you have done?”

  “Swam after him.”

  “And why would you have done this?”

  “Because he’s my friend.”

  “This is exactly what I mean,” Miko said. “I, as well as anyone else, would do anything in their power to save a companion. But let me pose another example: what would happen if you tried to save that friend from death, even if you knew you couldn’t?”

  “I… I don’t—”

  “You would die as well.”

  Without padding to absorb the blow so obviously-barbed and filled with contempt, the words slid into his heart and impaled themselves within him. They stung at his conscience, menacing hornets to the smaller parts of his mind, and left him reeling in the reality of which Miko had just spoken. What, he questioned, would he have done if Nova had broken away from his hold, or if he’d dived into the water; and what, he dared to think, would he have done if he couldn’t save Nova—and, most importantly, how would he have been able to cope with the knowledge? Such thoughts made him delirious with pain and threatened to bring forth the tears he’d been so painstakingly able to fight.

  How could he be so cruel?

  “I… I think I understand now,” Odin said, forcing himself to look up at his master and face his hard, unruly eyes. Thu… Thank you for explaining it to me.”

  “There’s no need to thank me.” Miko stood, rounded the table, then set a hand on Odin’s chest to guide him down to the bed. “You need to rest now. You’ve too much on your mind as it is—I don’t need to fill it with anything else.”

  “Sir—”

  “I’m not asking you to sleep, Odin. I’m asking you to rest.”

  “But—”

  “If you ask me something else, I won’t answer.”

  Miko seated himself on the bed. After turning to look at the end of the mattress, he spread out alongside Odin and drew up his legs so they wouldn’t be dangling in midair.

  “Sir?”

  “Goodnight, Odin.”

  Miko closed his eyes.

  Though Odin thought of saying goodnight, he thought better when he realized the Elf had already fallen asleep.

  It was the first time he had ever seen the Elf breathe so smoothly.

  He sat in a chair, book balanced against one knee, when the door opened without warning. Startled to the point where he nearly jumped from his chair with arms screaming with pain, Odin turned to look at the threshold with eyes hard and unforgiving. Who he found was Nova, standing in the threshold, scratching the rough hair at the stem of his neck

  “Nova,” he breathed.

  “Hey,” the older man said.

  Odin glanced over his shoulder. Miko turned his head to look at the two of them before returning to his window-watching.

  “Hey,” Odin replied, standing. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” Nova said, stepping into the room and closing the door with the heel of his foot. “How do you feel?”

  “Fine.”

  “That’s good.”

  Nova slid his hands into his pockets. After a moment of silence, he looked at the floor, as if something had caught his attention, and bowed his head. In response, Odin sighed and set the book down. “Nova,” he said. “I’m sorry about what happened last night.”

  “Why are you telling m
e sorry? I’m the one who hurt you.”

  “It’s not your fault. The sirens, they—”

  For reasons he couldn’t immediately interpret, he could not finish his sentence. Instead, he took his first few steps forward since Nova had entered the room and wrapped his arm around his friend “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m not hurt.”

  “Yes you are. I tore your arms up.”

  “You didn’t mean to.”

  Nova set his hands at Odin’s lower back and rested his head against the curve of his neck. Odin closed his eyes when he felt his breath’s hot breath against his collarbone.

  He hadn’t realized until that moment that being in a friend’s arms felt better than anything else in the world.

  “That tickles,” he said, unable to resist the urge to smile as his friend’s hot breath pooled against his neck.

  “What?” Nova asked.

  “I said that tickles.” Odin pulled away. A smile lit Nova’s face. “There. That’s what I want to see.”

  “What?” Nova laughed.

  “You smiling and laughing.”

  “I was up half the night worrying about you. I didn’t think we’d make up.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I tore your arms up.”

  “I’m okay. Really—don’t worry about it.”

  “If you say so, kid.”

  Nova set a hand on Odin’s shoulder. He smiled, then leaned closer. “Thank you for saving me,” he whispered. “And thank you for reminding me that I’ve got two incredible friends that care about me.”

  Nova made his way over to the bed and collapsed upon its surface.

  “Get some sleep,” Odin said.

  “I will, “Nova replied.

  When Odin looked over, their eyes met.

  At that moment, he began to realize just how much he loved both of the men he was with.

  Cold air bit his skin.

  Outside, snow fell.

  “How damn far north are we?” Nova asked, jamming his fingers into his armpits as he turned away from the window. “And where the hell is Miko?”

  “I don’t know,” Odin said.

  He joined his friend at the window to watch the snow fall at sea, wishing he knew where they were. Maybe then that would tell them why it was snowing.

  I wonder if he’ll tell us where we’re going now that it’s starting to snow.

  “You don’t think,” Odin began, then stopped before he could finish.

  “I don’t think what?” Nova asked.

  “You don’t think he’s having us aimlessly wander for no reason, do you?”

  “Miko? No. He’s taking us somewhere.”

  “Where?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  I don’t have a guess, Odin thought, then chuckled. You probably don’t either.

  “What’s so funny?” Nova smirked.

  “I don’t have a guess. I laughed because you said my guess was as good as yours.”

  “Oh.”

  Odin resisted the urge to laugh. Apparently, Nova hadn’t understood his joke, as soon after his friend asked, “What’re you looking at?”

  “Nothing,” Odin smiled. “I just enjoy your company.”

  “Sure you do.”

  This time, Odin laughed. Nova punched his shoulder.

  “Did you sleep better last night?” Odin asked.

  “I’ve been sleeping fine. What about you?”

  “Fine.”

  Odin looked down at his arms and rubbed the freshly-changed bandages. Though the horsetail stitching had looked a little bad upon his first impression, Miko had reassured him that the scars would be barely visible.

  I’ll be able to get rid of them, if you so desire, he’d also added.

  Odin planned on having his master remove them as soon as the stitching came out—not for vanity, but pride and reasons of friendship. He didn’t want Nova to shake his hand, grip his arm or look down at his skin and see scars that he had once caused. If Miko could remove them, he would request he do so as soon as possible.

  “Hey,” Nova said. “Something wrong?”

  “Uh… no. Sorry. I was just thinking.”

  Nova shrugged and seated himself on his bed. “You have no idea where he went?”

  Odin shook his head. “No. Sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault. He’s been gone since I got up.”

  “Did you want me to ask him something?”

  “Other than to know where we’re going?”

  I should’ve thought of that.

  With nothing better to do than yawn, Odin jumped on the bed and rolled onto his back, tracing the patterns on the wood that made up the ceiling. “Are you starting to get bored?” he decided to ask.

  “Of being on the ship?” Nova closed his eyes. “A little.”

  “I can only imagine how much longer we’ll be on it.”

  “We’ve only been sailing for a couple of weeks, if that.”

  Rolling onto his stomach, Odin closed his eyes and suppressed a sigh. Of all the times to get bored, it had to be when he had literally nothing to do.

  I can read.

  Then again, he’d already gone through most of the fables in the tome he’d been reading, so that wouldn’t work. The rest of the books hadn’t seemed interesting upon first glance. Maybe if he looked over them again he would find something worth reading.

  “What’ve you been doing to entertain yourself?” Odin asked.

  “I’ve been trying to write a letter to my wife so that when we get back to the mainland, I can have it sent to Bohren.”

  “What if where we’re going isn’t anywhere near the mainland?”

  “Well… then I’ll have someone deliver it for me when we get back.”

  “You said trying,” Odin frowned.

  “Yeah,” Nova replied, matter-of-factly. “I did. Why?”

  “I thought you said you’ve written to your wife before?”

  “I have, but writing isn’t one of my strong points. I was born and raised a farm boy.”

  “Oh.” Odin tried not to frown, but did anyway. “I’m not trying to make you feel stupid or anything, but if you need help, you can ask me.”

  “I appreciate the offer. I might take you up on it.”

  “What do you have trouble with?”

  “Letter writing, mostly, but it’s not hard if I go slow. When I start writing a letter, I make an effort to finish one part before I stop. I try to write it in my head first so I don’t have to waste time rewriting it, you know?”

  “I know.”

  Nova slapped Odin’s shoulder and looked up when the door opened.

  Miko slid inside, pulling his hood back to reveal his face as soon as the door closed behind him.

  “Hello, sir,” Odin said. “Where were you?”

  “Speaking with the captain,” the Elf said, locking the door before he began to disrobe. “We’re on schedule to arrive within the next few weeks.”

  “Why is it snowing outside?”

  “Because we’re moving to the northeast.”

  I know that, he thought.

  “What he means,” Nova said, “is where are we going?”

  Miko smiled. Odin and Nova groaned.

  “You won’t give us a hint?” Odin asked.

  “Come on,” Nova said. “We’ve been playing along so far. Why can’t you tell us?”

  “It’ll be better if you see for yourselves. That way, you’ll appreciate the wait.”

  “We’ll appreciate the wait if you tell us now,” Odin mumbled. Nova reeled with laughter, reaching up to pound his chest. Miko’s smile brightened.

  “I promise it won’t be much longer. The days go by quickly out here on the ocean.”

  “All right,” Odin sighed. “Thank you for telling us why it was snowing.”

  Even if it doesn’t give me any clue as to where we’re going.

  Odin settled down into the chair he had grown accustomed to, picked his book up, and opened it t
o where he left off.

  Only a few more pages left, he thought, licking a finger so he could turn a page. Then maybe I can finally force myself to look at a few of the other books.

  Hopefully, whatever lay between their bindings would entertain him until they reached their destination.

  “Hey, Odin,” Nova said. “You want to help me with something?”

  Looking up from the history book he’d only recently acquainted himself with, Odin found Nova sitting on the floor, cross-legged and bent over a piece of parchment that lay on the sitting table near the sofa spread against the far wall.

  “I’ll help,” Odin said, knowing more than well that Nova wanted advice on his letter. Sliding out of the chair, he set his book down and walked around the table to kneel by Nova’s side. There, he examined the careful but scratchy handwriting before turning to look at his friend. “What do you need help with?”

  “Does it… well… sound all right?”

  “You don’t care if I read it?”

  “No. I don’t.”

  Odin pulled the parchment forward.

  Dear Katarina, it began.

  I’m sorry I’ve been gone for so long, and I’m sorry I haven’t written to you sooner. We, the boy I told you about and an Elf that chose him as his squire, crossed the Ornalan Plains before we made our way west, down the lowlands that lead to Elna and along the ‘Ela Alna Pass that leads onto the peninsula. You don’t need to worry, because we arrived safely and soundly.

  I’m writing to you from the confines of a large ship. We set sail from Elna to somewhere northeast, though where we’re going, I don’t know. The Elf has assured both myself and the boy that we will soon reach our destination.

  I don’t know when this will reach you, and I’m sorry to say I don’t know when I’ll be home. I’m sorry for leaving you, Katarina. Every waking moment I breathe is filled with thoughts of you, and every night before I fall asleep, I think of how it feels to lay in a bed with a woman as beautiful as you.

  I’m sorry I haven’t come home.

  I’m sorry to say I don’t know when I’ll be home.

  Please, know that I love you, and remember that no matter what happens, I’ll come home to you one way or another.

  Your husband,

  Novalos

  By the time Odin finished reading the letter, he found a stray tear sliding down his face. He reached up to wipe it away knowing it hadn’t escaped Nova’s gaze. “You love her very much,” he said.