My family, I thought.
“Everything is fucked right now,” Lex muttered. Folami tensed briefly before relaxing once again, realizing that Lex was continuing our conversation from earlier and was not talking about our relationship. I lightly swatted his head, much to his indignation, but he grimaced when he realized how his words sounded. “Sorry. I meant the world as a whole. Not us.”
Folami laughed lightly against my chest. When she spoke, her tone was hushed, her words quiet both in thought and in exhaustion. “Yes. I especially do not like that we are all going to be separated soon.”
I grumbled low in my chest, agreeing with the sentiment.
In preparation for the inevitable battle, we’d agreed to go where we were most needed. As Torin and Ellowyn’s tether, Peytor was expected to stay in Alvor, hopefully away from all of the action. He would command our navy, a last attempt at defense if Solace decided to attack from Hestin.
Folami would also stay in Alvor, but with Talamh, waiting for Itanya to come home.
Lex and I were needed in Vespera beside Rohak. Despite the fact that Lex loved us, I knew that Rohak held a piece of his heart. He would go to whatever end for the General, and I, as his Vessel, would follow.
We lay silent for a few moments, each of us clinging a little tighter to each other.
“Everything is about to change, isn’t it?” Peytor’s soft voice was laden with apprehension and fear, his fingers digging into my thighs as he pulled me close until our pelvises were flush. I hummed the song from my ancestral home, the one that usually calmed Itanya and helped her sleep, as I gently stroked his soft hair away from his face.
“Yes,” I whispered. “Yes, it is.”
Chapter Eighty-Seven
Bondsmith
My breath came in harsh pants that froze in front of my face, the moisture sticking to my nose and lips in crystalline frost. The ache in my throat from the biting wind and bitter cold was an inferno each time I swallowed, trying to use my spit as hydration. The water in my bottle had long frozen through, and the snow was too thickly crusted with ice to be used for drink. Never mind the fact that removing my fur-lined gloves would mean losing at least the tips of my fingers, if not more. Luckily, I’d reinforced the runes on my face for protection and warmth, but even they were struggling against the bleak harshness of the Far North.
In my trek to retrieve Itanya per my bargain with Folami, I’d used the hidden tunnels beneath the Ice Shelf that twisted northward for miles. But eventually the mountain range ended, and with it, the protection offered by the warmer stone tunnels.
The last few hours of my hike were completely exposed to the elements, and I battled with the howling winds and swirling snow in an effort to arrive in Oathic before Solace and her army.
It was a race against time at this point, against my crazed and vengeful sister, one that I had to win lest I break a bargain and sentence Elyria to Solace’s control. It’s why I agreed to Folami’s bargain in the first place; I was already bound to Fate to bring the Bone Weaver south and scatter the nations of the Far North, as it was his intention to stop Solace before she wrapped her thin, bony fingers around a power she could use to destroy the cosmosthemselves.
At least the ice is thick enough that my feet stay above the drifts, I thought as I practically skated atop the snow.
Dark grey clouds blocked the sun completely this far north, and the lack of sunlight mixed with the constantly swirling winds reduced my visibility to almost nothing.
At least that’s what I blamed when I was taken by complete surprise, nearly colliding with one of the sentries stationed outside the small village of Oathic.
“Goddess,” he clicked in his native tongue. “This way.”
I nodded my thanks, my head barely moving beneath the mountains of scarves and furs, but trudged after him, nonetheless. He, like all of the people past the Ice Shelf, was light on his feet, with thicker skin, hardened against the elements. The sentry practically ran toward the city, leaving me to continue to pick my way across the barren landscape.
Once I felt like I could go no further, my feet dragging sluggishly behind me as my heart beat so rapidly I thought I would collapse and die, I stepped past the runic barrier that surrounded Oathic. Inside, the storm was dulled, soft flakes fluttering peacefully to rest on my cheeks and hair. The biting wind was absent; the lack of the bitterness was nearly a flood of heat.
I pulled my mask away from my face and groaned at the feeling.
The silence was almost deafening after hearing the whistling wind for hours, but slowly, the sounds of village life overpowered the ringing in my ears. Children giggled and played, dogs yipped in time. The melodic native language of the Far North nations surrounded me as women called their families in for food or reprimanded children for being too rough with the animals.
A small smile spread across my face.
This was home.
“Goddess,” the sentry repeated again with a slight bow. “This way. The Chief is expecting you.”
I mumbled my thanks and adjusted the pack on my shoulders, my steps much lighter than before.
My eyes scanned the tarred leather-based homes, searching for Itanya. The village had grown nearly double in size since I’d last visited, and while I was glad their population was finally growing, I was simultaneously nervous for the news I was poised to deliver.
Forcing these people to move across the entirety of the Far North would not be an easy ask. The journey was long and treacherous, full of surprising ice canyons and beasts of legend, not to mention the constant fight against the elements. Not all of their people would survive the trek, but if they stayed in Oathic,noneof them would survive.
