My sister nodded, fingers tracing the name I’d written onto her page.Alana. I thought a glass film covered her eyes, but she blinked it away, smiling instead. She pointed down at my book.
I dashed a cheek, my laughter returning. “Don’t tell me you wrote the same thing as well,” I teased. But I opened it up to find she hadn’t.
To Senna,
Happy birthday. May the filth on these pages keep you up on the nights that Pheolix does not.
Love, Cebrinne
I fought to keep my face from falling. “How did you write this?”
We’d experimented with writing. Cebrinne could hold a pen to paper, but as soon as ink began to flow, she’d drop the pen with a sharp hiss as though it had burned her, cradling her wrist.
Cebrinne held up her right hand. Her fingers curled awkwardly, her joints twisted sideways, her hand stiff as though arthritis had deteriorated every connection between her bones.
“Ceba,” I chided softly. She shrugged, but I lifted her hand in mine, wondering if I could water-heal it. Something told me an injury from breaking a blood vow wouldn’t be so easy to mend. “How long ago did you write this? Will it get better?” My sister waved the question away intolerantly, tapping the page.
I sighed, staring at the name she’d written. “Pheolix left. He’s back in the mines.”
Cebrinne made a show of rolling her eyes. She walked two fingers dramatically through the air.
I smiled sadly. She knew, of course, what had occurred in the servants’ quarters. That I’d traded Pheolix’s life with the promise of never seeing him. Bargained it away, once again. I’m not sure he’d even want to see me after I’d listened to his warning over the bonds of drones and, battling exhaustion and confusion, had let cowardice make my decision for me. I’d thought that maybe he’d send a letter, if nothing else, to say goodbye. He knew where I slept.
But he hadn’t.
“I vowed I wouldn’t see him,” I said.
Cebrinne turned her arm over, miming the act of cutting her vein open with a knife.
“No. I didn’t swear on my blood.”
She threw her hand in the air.
I bit back another laugh, but Cebrinne suddenly stood, pulling me to my feet. She dragged me to our balcony, flinging the door open, and furiously pointed to her chest.
“You,” I translated, watching as she turned and arced her arm towards the distant sea, “go to Leihani.”
Cebrinne rocked her head up and down. Then aimed her finger at me.
“Where will I go?”
A single, firm nod.
“I don’t know.” I leaned over the railing, staring at the water. Some part of me wished I could go with her. Gather every last drop of time she’d have to offer. Meet the human she’dcordae, hold her daughter, stay with her until the very end. But I’d need to lay false tracks for Thaan instead. I wouldn’t even risk going later, should the path lead back to me.
Cebrinne stomped her foot, yanking me from the rail. She whipped her arm into a straight line pointing north.
My mouth twisted. “I can’t.” A raindrop hit my nose. I inhaled sharply, my chest tightening with sudden frustration. “I’m not like you. I didn’t receive a clear-cut prophecy from a celestial goddess. It’s too hard for me not to keep a category of consequences. I’ve never walked so confidently into the unknown.”
Cebrinne’s eyes gradually narrowed. She motioned to the balcony floor. The palace flagstones below our feet, her gaze caged with a deep wariness that verged on accusation.
“Don’t worry about whether or not I stay here.”
She shouted a silent word. I recognized the shape of it, the way her teeth bared for only a moment before her tongue flicked the roof of her mouth.Senna.She grabbed the book from my hand, opened the cover with a violent flip, and slapped her own writing.
“Ceba,” I said, but she cut me off with the wave of her arm.
She pointed to herself. She pointed toward Leihani. She pointed to me. She pointed to Pheolix’s name.
