Tara knelt beside Seren and helped her out of her vest. “Where are you hurt?” Tara surveyed Seren’s face.
“I broke some ribs. Not sure what else.” Seren drew a shaky breath and Tara unbuttoned her blouse, then pushed it off her shoulders. Her side was dark with an angry bruise, and I turned away, giving her privacy, though Tara seemed unconcerned.
“I’ll take care of her,” Lucia said, waving Tara to the side.
“Where’s Madoc when I need him?” Tara muttered. Lucia met her gaze, a forlorn look passing between them, some unspoken pain there that neither voiced.
Who is Madoc?
Tara straightened and moved toward the sleeping area. She slipped behind a dressing screen, and minutes later, she emerged fully dressed. Grabbing a sword from beside her bedroll, she asked, “Is the skinwraith still out there?”
“Seren killed it,” I said, from the corner of the tent. “It vanished. The head was still there, though.”
Tara and Lucia looked at me, as though they had forgotten I was there. Tara frowned.
Was that blame in her expression?
“Tell me where, exactly.”
I followed Tara outside. If she’d noticed I was still carrying Seren’s sword, she said nothing. She didn’t disarm me either.
“That way.” I gestured toward the direction we’d been in, using both hands. “There’s a stream. On the other side of the stream is a stump, and there’s a human heart on it—probably that woman’s. The head is near there.”
If Tara was afraid, she didn’t show it, and I respected that. She’d dragged a vuk back for Seren, so she was clearly a capable woman. But the rigid set of her shoulders made it clear she was on her guard around me, as though I’d somehow brought the skinwraith upon her sister.
“Thank you for helping Seren. Again.” Her tone was sharp, more accusation than gratitude, as she turned to leave.
“I don’t know how to summon murderous vuks or skinwraiths if that’s what you’re thinking,” I said dryly.
Tara paused, glancing over her shoulder with narrowed eyes. “Maybe not. But you’re still a Lirien, and Liriens don’t just show up in the middle of the forest at the perfect moment unless there’s something we don’t know. This will do nothing to inspire confidence in you, Rykr. Don’t even think of breathing a word of this to anyone—especially not Seth.”
“Damn,” I muttered under my breath. “And here I was planning to summon my closest Viori friends for story time.”
To my surprise, Tara smirked, but the distrust in her expression didn’t waver.
A muffled cry came from inside the tent, and the pain in my side flared, then dissipated just as quickly. And when I looked back, Tara was already gone. Once I returned to the tent, Lucia was smoothing honey over Seren’s bruise, but Seren appeared to be asleep.
“Did you mend her?” I knelt beside them.
Lucia didn’t look at me as she continued rubbing the honey in. “I gave her a tonic to let her sleep. I can fix some bones, and bruises are easy enough, but I don’t have the same power to heal that the Zhi do. My magic works differently. It leaves a mark.
“She told me your connection has deepened.” Lucia pulled a strip of cloth from a spool beside her and wound it around Seren’s torso. She gave me a sidelong glance. “I can teach you both how to block each other from invading the other’s minds, but the closer you become, the deeper the bond will go. Eventually, if you don’t learn to control it, you may not be able to separate your thoughts from hers—or hers from yours. It will start slowly. A memory here, a feeling there. But without training, it could consume you both.”
She paused, eyes meeting mine. “Some say that bonds like this aren’t meant to be controlled, as they’re meant to bind two souls into one. But if that happens, you’ll lose what makes you Rykr, and she’ll lose what makes her Seren. And I doubt either of you want that.”
Losing what made us ourselves? That was what terrified me about the bond—how much of this connection was mine, and how much was Seren’s? Where did one end and the other begin? And if we couldn’t control it, how long before it absorbed us completely?
“She seems to think there still may be hope of breaking the bond.” I hadn’t really processed anything Lucia had said yesterday as realistic, but that was before I could feel Seren’s pain and see into her mind.
“The chance of that is slim at best. I tried to warn Seren that this oath had deep consequences.” Her eyes bored into mine. “I’d like to believe you are worthy of the risk she took. But the bond could also destroy you both if you’re reckless. You’ve been given a second chance here among the Viori, a life that you, perhaps, did not want. But the alternative was death. Don’t take that chance for granted.”
Her words sank through me. If she only knew how much deeper those truths went.
Had I been in Ederyn, or if Dalric hadn’t been mistaken for me, I would be dead.
Even the fact that my father had Sealed me, changed my name, and that Seren’s oath had altered my appearance offered me a chance of hiding in plain sight—as someone else.
“I know,” I said.
