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Tiptu noticed it too, scowling. “She doesn’t need to share your roof for that. We will arrange a naming ceremony once she is sufficiently healed and the rest of our clan has met her. Together, we will all give her a name.”
“She already has a name.” Giving the chiefess a dark look, Solin murmured, “She’s not a youngling, Tiptu. She’s of age to mate and choose a future of her own. We could name her, you’re right. But the name she already has is the one I’m more interested in.”
“Why are you acting as if it’s so important?” Tiptu asked suspiciously.
“Because I’ve been told by the fire that it is.”
Everything stilled.
Everyone went silent.
Tiptu clenched her jaw, looking me up and down before focusing on Solin with a wary glance. “What are you saying, Fire Reader?”
“I’m saying I need to share a trance with her.”
“What?” Tiptu twitched and clutched her swollen belly. “Have you lost your mind? You said you’d never do that again. Not since—”
“Since I was much younger. I have greater power now. I’ll be able to step into her mind and have her spirit guide me through what is hidden.”
“Absolutely not.” Tiptu crossed her arms, pushing her breasts even higher. “Do you remember what happened the last time you shared a trance? You almost died, Solin. You were catatonic for days, and we were unable to bring you back. Why do you wish to do something as risky as that again?”
Solin never looked away from me, his face etched with flames. “Because the fire whispered to me last night that I don’t have a choice.”
Niya sucked in a breath beside me, Olish shifted on his feet, and Tiptu’s cheeks glowed with disapproval. “The fire is mistaken. You do have a choice. You can read her spirit without—”
“I cannot,” Solin snapped, his eyes narrowing. “She carries a mark, Tiptu. A mark that I’ve never seen before.” Stepping into me, he lifted my furs a little, hovering his hand over my upper thigh. Over the strange discolouration that wasn’t a bruise or scar. A smudge that Niya had said reminded her of a sunburst when she’d found me by the river.
I flinched as his fingers traced the irregular shape, making my heart gallop. “Birthmarks are rare,” he said to the chiefess, all while staring at me. “The moment I saw it, the fire surged in its hearth. It hissed for me to commune. Every night since, I’ve entered a trance, hoping to gain insight on who she is and why she’s marked, but each time, the flames refuse.” He softened his voice. “It refuses to tell me because it will only speak to her.”
“Me?” I tripped backward, almost falling over the log behind me. “I-I don’t understand...”
Niya wrapped an arm around my waist, steadying me before letting me go. “It’s just a birthmark, Solin,” Niya whispered. “And she’s just a traveller, lucky enough to be found before it was too late.”
“No, Niya.” Solin shook his head. “I think she’s more than that.”
“What is she then?” Tiptu demanded, the flowers in her braids shivering. “Why does the fire wish to speak to her?”
“I don’t know.” Solin balled his hands. “That’s what I must find out.”
I trembled on the spot, clamping a hand over the disfigured circle on my upper right thigh. The misshapen coil with its spearing lines did look like the sun on a clear-sky day, but no matter how many times I’d looked at it, touched it, studied it, it hadn’t given me any knowledge on why I was alone or why my mind was empty.
Tiptu ran a hand over her left braid, glancing at Olish. For a long while, no one spoke. The hum of voices from others around the fire sounded so light-hearted compared to the sudden overwhelming tension between us.
Solin hadn’t spoken a word of this to me.
He hadn’t tried to touch my leg or ask me about it.
You were in and out of consciousness.
He could’ve studied my mark for days, and I wouldn’t have known.
I hugged myself as Tiptu continued to stare at me before glaring at Solin. “I will talk to Tral. You mustn’t do anything until we’ve discussed it, do you understand?” She pointed at Solin. “She may stay in your lupic, but you must not, under any circumstances, share a trance.”
Solin clasped his hands together, his face sombre and stern. “I understand.”
Tiptu’s shoulders relaxed a little. “When...when would you do it? If Tral agrees?”
Solin’s gaze burned into me like black fire. “Whenever our guest is ready.”
I didn’t know what a trance entailed or why it was so dangerous for them to be shared, but my stomach crawled with warning.
“A-And if I’m never ready?” I breathed.
“Then you will live a half-life,” Solin muttered. “A life that might always hide who you truly are.”
“And...if I agree?”
