“As I told your wife, I am an immortal being—I do not choose sides. Not inanyconflict or situation. There are things I want—things thatneedto happen that are far beyond any of your comprehension. I act according to those whims, according to Fate’s desires. Nothing more and nothing less. Are there people I care about?”—her eyes flicked to mine, holding my gaze with an intensity that made me squirm in my seat—“Yes. And I will do what I must to make sure they are safe and fulfill every inch of their destinies.”
“You knew this would happen.” The accusation came, surprisingly, from Talamh.
The Bondsmith sighed and nodded tightly, eliciting hissing reactions from the other three men at the table.
“I had an idea, yes. I had a choice—save her or ward the caverns. I chose saving thousands of lives versus one, chose saving the rebellion over immediate annihilation from my crazed sister.”
“But, Itanya . . . she thought of you, thinks of you, as hergrandmother. What grandmother sacrifices her granddaughter as easily—” Lex said.
“Ineversaid it was easy, Mage,” the Bondsmith hissed dangerously.
Lex, wisely, stopped talking.
“So, what are you proposing then, Goddess?” Torin asked, his face carefully blank. “If this was all necessary”—the doubt was heavily obvious—“then what is the solution? You’ve stated Lex and his quad cannot go. So why? And who are to fill their places?”
“No, they cannot.” The Bondsmith shook her head. “The people of the Far North are not a . . . trusting bunch. If Lex, Peytor, Ilyas, and Folami were to go, they would be killed on sight, before they even knew they were in the vicinity of the village.”
“Again, who would go in their place? It’s not as if we have the soldiers to spare and send as an attack.”
“I will go,” the Bondsmith said, straightening her spine as if expecting outrage. When none was expressed, she relaxed slightly before continuing. “Razia and I are the only two that I know of who have crossed the Ice Shelf and lived. There are . . . secret passages through the ice, passages that only he and I know of, imbued with ancient magic that I can circumvent.”
“Just because you traversed the Ice Shelf doesn’t mean these people will accept you freely,” Talamh countered.
A wicked smile spread across the goddess’ face. “I was once their matriarch, Prince. They will more than accept me, they’ll welcome me with open arms.”
An unsettling silence fell across the table once more as we all sat with the information the Bondsmith revealed.
Lex drummed his fingers on the table in an off-cadence rhythm, his brown eyes constantly canvassing my form as if waiting for me to crack and break at any moment.
With every minute, the tension increased until it was a palpable thing, ready to explode with a wrong word or gesture.
Peytor shifted uncomfortably, his eyebrows drawn downward as he opened his mouth to speak.
“Okay,” I said, cutting him off. I shifted in my chair as all eyes flew to me. “Okay,” I reiterated. “The Bondsmith will go and retrieve Itanya before returning here with her once more.”
The Bondsmith nodded her head in thanks.
“But,” I continued, “I want to make a bargain with you, Bondsmith.”
Protests immediately erupted from Peytor, Lex, and Torin, their desire to protect me nearly suffocating.
Talamh, ever the stoic observer, simply cocked his head at me in curiosity. He finally silenced the slowly growing volume of voices with one raised palm.
“I think we need to trust Folami to make the best decision for herself, don’t you?” he asked, his penetrating, calm stare forcing each of the men back in their seats. Peytor and Lex sat with heavythunks, but Torin remained standing. Magic sparked in his eyes as he regarded me.
“You’re sure, Fo?”
I nodded once, turning my attention to a curious Bondsmith.
“What are your terms?”
I inhaled deeply. “I want your word that she returns here safe and unharmed. That you will do everything in your power to ensure that she returns to me.”
“And in return?”
“In return, I will forgive you.”
The Bondsmith paused, her shrewd eyes scanning my face for something.
