“Scared, Vincienzo?” Jezebel smirked, sipping from a bottle of ale she’d brought with her.
Tol flipped her off. “Terrified, Jezzie,” he drawled.
“Careful not to scream when the needle hits your skin.” She kicked her feet up on an empty table, leaning back in her chair.
I flashed them each a tight-lipped smile, grateful for the distraction.
“I guess we’ll see now who’s got the strongest tolerance,” Marxian interrupted. “Face down, Cypherion.”
Cyph did as he was told, brushing aside the auburn curls at the back of his neck so the artist would have a clean surface. Marxian dragged a razor over the skin, removing any hair, and cleaned it.
“Don’t move,” he instructed.
Buzzing echoed from the needle, and the room held its breath. All eyes were on Cyph, waiting to see the legendary event take shape. Like a dream imprinting itself over the present, I was transported back to the night, two and a half years ago, when I’d first experienced this. The buzzing wrapped itself around me, teasing out my excitement and restoring that same purpose.
Slowly, the ink bled into Cyph’s skin. He didn’t flinch, didn’t say he was in pain at all. As the mountains took shape against his neck, I could practically feel the needled magic pressing into my bones. I tried to catch Malakai’s eye, but he faced the window, ignoring the scene.
It was over quickly. The room erupted into conversation, thebuzzing needle releasing its hypnotic hold on them once fate sealed itself within Cyph.
Marxian applied the soothing ointment, which Esmond and Santorina asked many questions about, then Cyph rose from the table. With the shorter haircut Jezebel had given him after the Undertaking, his curls brushed the tops of the mountains, a burnt sun teasing the peaks.
“Next.” Marxian patted the bench, turning to his workstation to switch out the supplies.
“Jezzie?” Tol asked.
My sister bit her lip, watching the needle with narrowed eyes.
“Scared?” Tol teased. I elbowed him in the ribs. “Ouch,” he muttered.
“It’s not that,” Jez said. “I—oh, never mind.”
She untied the straps of her dress where they were knotted behind her neck and lay face down on the surface. Marxian repeated the ritual as he had with Cyph. The crowd trickled out, losing interest after the first tattoo. A few lingered, talking, dancing, and drinking. Cyph and Vale were in conversation with a pair of warriors we knew from Palerman—the Bristol sisters—and a blonde man from Turren.
Malakai sat silently in the corner. Hands clenched, elbows braced against his knees, gaze out the window.
Tolek took his place after Jezebel, removing his dark shirt to reveal defined muscles. A group of Mystiques moved closer, eyes lingering across his sculpted back. Cyph wouldn’t be the only one with his options, then. I narrowed my eyes at them, wondering what plans they were concocting in hushed tones. One girl I recognized from Palerman—Hylia, I recalled—certainly had a hungry look in her eye?—
“Damien’s balls!” Tol yelped when the needle touched his skin.
“Oh for the love of the Angels, Tolek!” I laughed, Cypherion and Jezebel joining me. “It’s not that bad.”
“It feels like my damn bones are being shredded.”
“Interesting,” Marxian hummed.
“What is?” Tolek asked, face buried in a pillow.
“Nothing, don’t move, kid.”
Tol grumbled but bit his tongue as Marxian finished the tattoo. The artist’s gaze stayed narrowed.
When Tolek sat up, his cheeks were red. “Jezebel, give me your fucking drink.” She handed it to him, and he finished it in one swallow. “You’re all sadists if you think that didn’t hurt,” he panted, his bare chest rising and falling. One drop of ale dripped down his chin, carving a path along his neck and settling in the dip of his collarbone.
“Get out of my way, Vincienzo. I’ll show you how it’s done.” I piled my hair atop my head, tying it with a leather band from Rina, and settled onto the table. Tolek whispered something I couldn’t make out.
The razor smoothed along my skin, the cleanser cool in its wake. I held my arms carefully at my sides and closed my eyes.
“Welcome back, Revered,” Marxian whispered, and I smiled into the pillow.
