Aloisia narrowed her eyes. “Debatable.”
“Then I shall try my best to correct that.”
“You could start by answering my question.”
His shoulders shook in a silent laugh. “If your tongue were a blade, you would be the most skilled dualist in all of Teneria.”
A smile tugged at her lips. Clearly, he would not budge on this line of questioning. “Why do you call me that?”
“Little wolf? When we met last night, your teeth were bared, and you were ready to attack at a moment’s notice. As you did.” He lifted his now healed right hand. “And, anyway, I have nothing else to call you.”
“Aloisia.”
Inari raised a brow. “I see why your friends prefer to call you Lis, Aloisia.” His lilting accent made her name sound like a prayer.
“I’m sorry about earlier. It was uncalled for.”
“Water under the bridge.” He lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. “At least now I have a name.”
She turned the bead over in her hand. A simple pattern was etched into it, as there was upon the others. “Runes?”
Inari gave a nod. “They are said to possess magical qualities.” He picked one up, considering it. “More than just a language. The bearers of prophecies, a vision into one future or another, a marker of what one may be or would be.”
“So, what does this one mean?” Aloisia turned the bead to him, showing him the carving like an X.
“Sybo,” Inari said. “It means balance. Or partnership.”
She set it back on the table, running her fingers across the other beads.
Inari chose another, placing it in her palm. “This one is more suited to you.”
She examined the carving, this one like an S with sharper lines.
“Tei,” he said. “It means honour.”
Aloisia barked a laugh, closing her fist around it.
“Each one has its individual meaning, sure. But the meaning deepens when combined with the others, telling a story, showing a prophecy when the runes are cast.”
“Fascinating. Can you read a prophecy from them?”
“No. Not exactly. Prophecies are the work of seers, not shamans. Runes, for me, have a more practical use.”
“Healing?”
He nodded. “Amongst other things.”
“How does it work? Isn’t it just a language?”
“True, they are a language, the same as any runic words. There is power in words. A power invoked through magic. A power which alters their essence by intention, depending upon how the threads of magic are woven.” He plucked another of the beads. “This one, for example, isIkka. It means to bind. I use this to seal wounds, as I did with my wrist. Others may use this to tether or lock something. Like I say, it’s about intention.”
“How do you read them? Is this your language?”
“No.” Inari smirked. “It is a language I learned. With runes, there are similarities, and if they are magical in use, it can be easy enough to decipher them, to pick apart the threads to make sense of them.”
She thought of the runes on Brighde’s body, on her own palm, and wondered again if he were able to translate them. If he would when asked. She wasn’t sure.
Aloisia looked back at the bead in her hand. “Why are you here, Inari? In the Dead Woods?”
