“It’s a thrall relic,” she whispered, ignoring him. “They are rare, only a few confirmed in the world. There are stories about them, and all of them are dark. All of them end badly.” Still, she wrapped her fingers around the bone, feeling deep in her soul that she would never let it go. “From what I can tell, this particular one gives the wearer the power to enslave through a simple command. If I...” She swallowed heavily, just starting to realize the implications of what she was about to say. “If I direct my attention to someone and say ‘you’, and then add the command, the victim is compelled to follow it.”
The dream about the soldier who’d blown his brains out flashed through her mind.
Then Rune... kissing her.
Seraphina’s hand flew to her mouth. She craned her neck toward Rune’s shadow and clenched her teeth so hard that they gnashed.
“It is powerful,” he said. “You were able to defend yourself when I froze. It’s a good thing that you have it.”
Her hand fell to her chest, where she fisted the front of her cloak. She felt her heart hammering painfully.
“No, Rune... I... I made you do it.”
He cocked his head. “Do what?”
“I made you kiss me!”
“Seraphina...”
“You didn’t want to! But I said...” She was starting to hyperventilate. “I said, ‘you, kiss me’, and you did. Because you couldn’t fight the thrall. I never talk like that, Rune! I never address anyone as ‘you’, that’s not how I... That’s just not how I talk. Ever. I should’ve known. I should’ve realized what washappening when I held the relic for the first time and it made me say it. It compelled me, Rune, because thrall relics work both ways. Not only is the victim in thrall, but also the one who wields its power. A thrall relic will make the wearer use it.”
As she said that, she slipped the bone back into her pocket, fully aware of what she was doing. She was behaving exactly like the relic wanted her to, unable to stop herself.
“No,” Rune murmured. He was trying to keep up with her but was falling short. “No, I did want to kiss you.”
“Did you really?” she challenged him.
“No... Yes...” He groaned and smacked the side of his head with the heel of his palm. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you since... since we were in prison and you let me look at you for the first time. You touched my face, and I wanted to lean in and press my lips to yours, see what it would be like to taste your breath.”
A sob tore out from Seraphina’s throat.
“I’ve been wanting to kiss you ever since, but I just couldn’t do it. I would’ve never done it, but then...” he trailed off.
“See?” She nodded with conviction. “You wouldn’t have done it, but then I made you. I ordered you, Rune. I used a thrall relic against you, one of the most powerful and dangerous apex relics in the world, and made you do what I wanted, with no regard to what you wanted.”
“You didn’t know...”
“I should have!” She stomped her foot. “I’m a Sarumite. I’ve been studying relics since I was fifteen, I read all the academy’s records and ledgers, I became a shard technician and worked alongside a master weaver. I have no excuse.”
“Seraphina, don’t...” He stepped closer to her, hands reaching out for her, but she shook her head and turned her body away. “Don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself. It’s true that I wouldn’t have kissed you then, and maybe never, but not because I didn’t want to. It’s because I didn’t want you to regret it.”
“Me? Regret it?”
“Yes. It was a feeling I had that my lips shouldn’t touch you. I couldn’t explain it, and it’s still unclear to me now, but what they’re saying...” He pointed at the two soldiers who were watching and listening to them in perfect silence. “If what they’re saying is true, then–”
“Then what?” Seraphina snapped at him. “It’s not true. They’re either lying, or they’re wrong. They’re confusing you with someone else.”
He motioned toward her pocket. “We can find out.”
Seraphina shook her head and wrapped her arms around herself to prevent her right hand from going into her pocket to grab onto the cursed bone. She wanted to hold it. She wanted to use it. She could use it without holding it, though, because she could already feel the prompt come to the forefront of her mind.
“Maybe we shouldn’t,” she said, voice dropping.
“But isn’t this what we said we would do? I don’t know who I am, and you promised to help me find out.”
Damn it, he was right. She had promised him that.
“My fragmented memories, the things I know but have no idea how I learned,” he continued. “When I close my eyes, I dream that I’m a farmer’s boy. I sleep with the sheep in winter, and bathe in the stream in summer. I also dream I’m reading Ovid and playing the piano. My teacher smacks me over the fingers with a ruler when I make a mistake. They’re not dreams, they’re memories. I can’t have been both those boys, but somehow, I know they’re inside me. I am poor, I am wealthy, I am dumb and illiterate, I can quote classic works in Latin, I know how to amputate a limb so I save most of it, I write poetry and play the piano, I can fix a lattice and create a pattern from scratch. I am an amalgamation of ideas and skills, of insecurities and questions, fears, beautiful dreams and terrifying nightmares, and none of those... none of those are mine!”
