Mother held the tent open.
I removed my boots at the entrance and then helped Rykr with his. The laces were wet and, as I finished, blood stained my fingertips. My hands quivered, my eyes shooting to his piercing blue-green gaze.
Rykr’s eyes held an inscrutable expression. Not gratitude, but not complete dislike either.
I shook the thought away, tearing my gaze from his. Why do I want his approval?
“Thank you,” he said in a low voice as I led him farther inside.
“I’m the one who should thank you,” I said stiffly.
Mother unfastened her cloak and hurried over to her cabinet of potions and herbs.
“Where I come from, no leader would go unchallenged for giving a woman twenty lashes. Especially for something so trivial. As I’ve long known, Viori are savages.”
I didn’t want to agree with him, even though the lack of support I’d received from my tribe had cut through me. “Maybe where you come from, women can’t handle a few lashes.”
The laughter that lit his eyes was almost as disparaging as his words. “Clearly you’ve never been to Pendara.”
“Stop squabbling and lie face down,” Mother said to Rykr, gesturing to the rug in front of the stove. “I’ll apply an ointment to your wounds and bandage them, which will help with infection and scarring. Sleep on your stomach until your wounds heal.”
Rykr did as instructed and Mother knelt beside him, examining the flayed skin.
I could barely look. As she cleaned his wounds with water and cleaning salts, he winced.
Pain radiated up my back—mirroring his.
Worry creased Mother’s brow. “You feel his pain, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
Rykr twisted his head toward me, his face sharp with disbelief. “What? You felt the lashings too?”
“It’s one of the soul-knitting parts of the oath. Souls that are joined cannot be separated,” Mother said quietly. “The Oath of Bryndis is ancient?—”
“You’re saying this bond is permanent?” My throat tightened.
Mother nodded.
Her words settled over me like a shroud. Permanent? How had I not known what I was binding myself to?
“From the ages before now, when the Eldra and Skaldra gods roamed the world and had their place among humans …” Mother’s voice was distant, as if recalling something from long ago.
Rykr swore under his breath, shifting as though to sit up, but Mother placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “Stay still if you want to heal.”
As Rykr settled onto the rug once again, Mother continued, “The Eldra were gods of order, devoted to love and the land. Bryndis was among them—the goddess of love. But she fell in love with Varik, a Skaldra god—one of chaos and cunning. Their love was forbidden, an affront to both pantheons. So, Bryndis took an oath to bind their immortal souls as one.”
Her finger moved with practiced ease as she applied ointment to Rykr’s raw, shredded skin. “The oath is a sacred bond, one that melds souls and bodies.”
I gulped a breath, pain rippling through me again as she touched his wounds. “So, I can actually feel his pain?”
“Yes. And he’ll feel yours. The more you give yourself to the bond, the stronger it becomes. You may hear each other’s thoughts. Read each other’s minds. Consummating your union would deepen the effects.”
I stiffened, my shoulders locking. Consummating?
Rykr gave a laugh of disbelief. “You’ve got to be fucking joking.”
“Is it any more unbelievable than an oath that changed your appearance?” Mother flicked a gaze at me. “I warned you, Seren. This is no simple marriage spell. The consequences are far graver. If either of you dies, the other will as well. And worse, anyone who understands Ibarran magic will know how to use this against you. If an enemy seeks to kill one of you, they may come for the other first.”
