Oathen (43 page)

“Arisson!” she cried, in dual torment. “I
can’t!”

He looked at the oncoming enemy, and turned
his back on them, lowering his sword. His grey eyes locked onto her
green ones.
Then we die in failure, rather than
triumph.

Her eyes darted to the raised swords that
sought his flesh; they were mere steps behind him now.

“I love you!” she cried, tears falling freely
over tense cheeks.

Give us victory, Oathen.
Arisson’s
expression blazed, and he threw his arms wide. Jacasta was drenched
in his love, his dedication to their cause…and his
forgiveness.

She shoved the
Tome
through the
portal.

She woke again, fully healed, and rolled to
her knees in pitch blackness; the torch had given its life as well.
She realized with growing horror that she could never truly die,
not even at the will of the
Dire Tome
. She was doomed to
live forever, endlessly remembering her shameful deed, her gruesome
sacrifice: she had broken her Oath, slain her own
Oathen.

The horror that filled her was matched only by
the guilt and rage that crashed against each other in her mind, and
yet all were dwarfed by the sudden absence of Arisson’s emotions
entwined with her own.

She stumbled to his side, finding his familiar
form among those of the enemy; her hands sought his face, caressed
his cheeks; they were stone cold. No trace of life remained. She
kissed his eyes closed.

The enormity of her loss was too much to bear.
In the pressing dark, her fingers wormed into her hair, scraping at
her scalp and knotting in her braid, and she slumped against
Arisson’s body and screamed her horrified sorrow, her tears
spilling heedlessly to the black stone floor.

Ahm and Sosta led the way down a narrow, twisting staircase,
carrying bright lanterns. They descended into passages that had
been carved from the living bedrock beneath Sosta’s castle. Several
Scions accompanied the outlanders, some because they’d been
Oathbound, and others because they were considering the spell for
themselves.

The stone walls, dark and rough, reminded
Sanych of the small pit where she and Rhona had been trapped.
I
don’t think I’ll ever be comfortable underground again. Why does
everything in my life seem to be suffocating me?

“Since Oathbinding was rediscovered during the
Cult War,” Ahm explained as they wound down the dark stairs, “we’ve
learned much more about it: its limitations and
capabilities.”

He led the way into a round chamber with a
circular dais of white stone in the middle. One of the other Scions
stepped first to one wall, then another, and touched a pair of
small stone troughs that zigged up toward the ceiling. In moments,
fire filled the troughs to the top, lighting the room with a golden
glow.

“What sort of limitations does it have?” Rhona
asked.

Ahm stopped before the dais, and the others
halted as well. “Well, for one thing, no one can be Oathbound twice
in their lifetime. We tried that; it wouldn’t take.”

“You experiment on Oathbound Scions?” Geret
asked with a frown.

“It’s necessary in our war against Dzur
i’Oth,” Ahm replied. “The protections that Oathbinding offers us
are invaluable. But we must choose the pairs carefully; only one in
ten Scions attempt the Oathbinding, and of those, perhaps two in
three find a good partner. The spell is permanent, and if the two
recipients are not well-matched…” He sighed.

“What…what happens?” Sanych asked,
gulping.

Ahm met her eyes. “One of them leaves Shanal.
They cannot stand to be anywhere near each other, in the end.
Traveling farther than earth magic can reach dampens the spell’s
effects.”

Sanych looked at the stone dais,
shaken.

Kemsil entered the chamber with Meena. His
friends greeted him with hugs and back slaps. He approached Sanych
and looked down at her.

“Archivist,” he said, resting his one hand on
her shoulder, “I wouldn’t miss this for all the women in the world.
Except maybe one, thanks to Meena.” He grinned. “But alas, Anjoya’s
not here, so I’m happy to lend you my support. I hope this spell
enables you to destroy the
Tome
.”

“Thank you, Kemsil,” Sanych said, unsure how
Meena had managed to lift the banns from him, but too distracted to
ask.

“This way, Sanych,” Ahm said,
beckoning.

She stepped over by the dais, clasping her
hands tightly so they wouldn’t shake.

Ahm rested a hand on her shoulder and met her
eyes. “This is a life-altering spell. I’m humbled and grateful that
someone of your few cycles would take on this ritual as a means to
infiltrate the cult and destroy the
Tome
, knowing that you
will spend the rest of your life bound to another.”

Sanych nodded.
Don’t remind me of the gory
details; just get it done before I turn coward
.

“Traditionally,” he continued, “the two
Oathbound choose each other because they work well as a team, or
because they are deeply in love, or both. Oathbinding is similar to
marriage, in that it involves dedication, sharing, and sacrifice.
Not all Oathbound are or become physically joined with each other,
however. That is an individual choice.”

Sanych blushed.

“And that’s why I mention it.” Ahm smiled.
“However, when the spell was created long ago, it was crafted for
such a pair, and so requires a man and a woman. We tried binding
brothers to each other, hoping to enhance their combat prowess, but
the spell didn’t complete. So, Sanych,” he said, turning and
gesturing toward her friends, “it will be up to you to choose your
partner. Consider wisely, I beg you, for both your
sakes.”

“What?” Sanych’s eyes darted among Salvor,
Kemsil, Geret and Ruel. They all stared back at her, taken aback by
Ahm’s words.

“Us?” Ruel blurted, goggling.

Ahm gave him a cool glance. “You would prefer
Sanych join with one of the Scions, a stranger? We’ve tried that as
well, and learned the hard way that previous experience with each
other is necessary for a working team. The spell does bind
strangers,” he said, sighing, “but without common interest, the
intimacy of the spell drives them apart. My own Oathen left Shanal
shortly after our binding.” He laid a hand over his heart. “I still
feel her, but faintly.”

Sanych looked up at him.
Ahm was Oathbound
to a stranger?

“Can you explain more about what the
Oathbinding does?” Meena interjected. “When it was cast on Arisson
and me, no one knew anything about it.”

“Of course. Oathbinding creates a psychic bond
between the pair. You are able to sense your Oathen’s mood at all
times, and with practice, you may let them sense your exact
thoughts, even over long distances. It also—”

“Really?” Sanych asked with a worried look.
Sharing my every thought, forever?
Her stomach turned
over.

“Indeed. Isn’t that right, Meena?”

Meena nodded solemnly. “I was aware of
everything Arisson felt.” Her eyes traced the edge of the white
dais. “I knew he was coming for me when the cult tried to sacrifice
me during their immortality ritual. And…” She bit her lip. “And I
felt him forgive me…when I killed him.”

The Scions gasped and murmured. The looks they
shot her way were confused, unkind. Geret looked at Kemsil, who
shrugged helplessly. Sanych could only stare in utter
shock.

“You…you
killed
Arisson?” Ahm blurted.
“You broke your Oath?”

Sanych looked to Ahm. “What does that
mean?”

Ahm swallowed, smoothing his expression with
difficulty. “It’s part of the Oath’s protection, and the main
reason I want you to receive it,” he told her. “Once you’re
Oathbound to another, your souls blend. Part of your life force
resides within your Oathen, and his in you. This makes you very,
very hard to kill, unless you take your own life, or you’re both
killed at the same time. Or unless you kill your Oathen
yourself.”

He turned to Meena and continued. “The cult’s
immortality ritual failed because they tried to sacrifice half of
your soul, and half of Arisson’s, in one body. Since they couldn’t
steal half a soul, and they had no access to the other half, they
had no hope of success…but…
why
, Meena?” His face was a mask
of confusion and pain. “Scions are exiled for breaking their Oath.
It is the most vicious crime we can commit.”

Meena smoothed her hands over the dais’ cool
stone surface. “The
Dire Tome
required sacrifice to force it
from the world. Along with the key, which took out all of my blood,
the ritual to lock the
Tome
away was designed to kill those
who meant it harm. A magical booby-trap. When I tried to imprison
the book, it forced me to choose between completing my mission and
breaking my Oath. So I broke it. I killed my Oathen to buy the
world a reprieve from madness.”

The Oathbound Scions in the room had tears in
their eyes. Some held each other tightly. Sanych pressed her
fingers over her lips, feeling her eyes tear up.

Ahm laid a gentle hand on Meena’s arm. “I’m so
sorry,” he murmured. “We didn’t know. We just assumed the cult had
killed you both, and that only you resurrected.”

“You’ve had a far kinder view of me these many
cycles,” Meena said, her voice thick with emotion. She sighed and
turned around, facing the group. “All right, I’ve bared my soul.
Let’s move on; we don’t have long before Oolat retrieves the
Tome
, if he hasn’t taken it already.”

Ahm nodded and turned to Sanych. “Have you
decided?” he asked.

Sanych faced her male friends, swallowing
hard. “If I get to choose, you get to refuse,” she said to them.
They nodded.

Rhona watched from the side, hands gripping
her elbows. Her gaze was part challenge, part fear.

Sanych bit her lip and closed her eyes. They
flickered back and forth under her lids for a long while.
Must.
Not. Choose. Foolishly.

Finally she opened her eyes and spoke. “If
prior experience between us will keep me from fleeing the country,”
she said, “I must choose either Geret or Salvor.”

Ruel and Kemsil backed away. Kemsil smiled
gratefully at Sanych and rubbed his stump in a self-conscious
gesture. She nodded at him, then turned her gaze back to the two
Vintens. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rhona whispering
urgently in Ruel’s ear.

Wisdom, lend me strength
, Sanych
begged.
I don’t want to be bound to either of them! Salvor’s an
arrogant, lying bastard, and Geret’s a self-entitled
manipulator!
She took a breath and let it out slowly, desperate
for a way to make a rational decision.
I don’t know how to
choose between them. Nobility, royalty: I’m not eligible to join
either family back home. But…we’re not in Vint. We’re in Shanal,
and the whole world is at stake!
Her eyes flickered between the
two men, and her heart twisted as she realized she only had one
real option.

Geret looked at Salvor. “Didn’t see this
coming,” he murmured.

Salvor nodded. “I’ll be good to her this
time.”

Sanych twisted her hands together and stepped
forward. “I choose…” she said into the silence, “Geret.”

“What?” Geret blurted.

“What?” Salvor echoed. His tone was
challenging. “Why?”

Sanych’s eyes slid to Salvor’s. “Geret’s a
Prince of Vint, and I’m sure you especially will agree that keeping
our prince safe is an important task. The Oathbinding will protect
him just as it will protect me, and far better than even you could
manage,” she said to the bodyguard. “And since he is our prince, we
all want that, don’t we?”

Salvor stared back at her for a long, long
moment. “The voice of Wisdom herself,” he said, nodding, though his
eyes looked suddenly aged.

“No, Geret!” Rhona called, her hands in fists,
her face entreating. “Say no! Sanych, you can’t have
him!”

Salvor shot her a dark look, and Ruel
impatiently hushed her.

“I…my…” Geret stuttered, looking at Sanych
with wide eyes. His brow furrowed, and he opened his mouth to
speak.

“Geret,” Rhona pleaded.

“You can still say no,” Salvor
murmured.

Geret’s lip curled. “No.”

Sanych’s mouth opened in dismay, but Geret was
already turning to Salvor.

“I’m not your puppet, Salvor. Nor yours,
Rhona,” he added, pointing at the pirate with a glare. He turned
toward Sanych again. “And I can’t play by my uncle’s rules anymore.
Not out here. Not now. He’s just one Magister, one small ruler of
one small country. And I’m here to save him, along with everyone
else. He’ll have to live with my decision just like the rest of you
will.”

Sanych stepped closer and looked up into his
brown eyes. “I’m not sure you can trust me,” she began. “And I
don’t enjoy trusting you.”

Geret winced.

“But, our faults aside, will you help me save
the world?” she asked, lifting one side of her lips in a smile.
“It’ll be an adventure. I hear you like those.” She held out her
trembling hand to him, though inside, her heart was shivering with
rage and fear.
I can do this…