Silla opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
“You’re safe.”
Safe, Silla reminded herself.Not trapped. Your choice.
“We can try another day.”
But Saga needed her, and there wasn’t time to waste. She pulled back, looking him in the eye. “No. Tell me what will happen.”
Rey observed her. “After you drink the catalyst, you will clear your mind of thoughts and retreat inwardly. It is a place of deep consciousness, and I cannot say what you will see for certain. Some see flashes of memories, glimpses of the past. Others are visited by the spirit of an ancestor. Most see a light. Follow thelight, and you will find your heart—the source of your power. Place your hands upon it, and heart and mind will become Cohesed.”
Silla bit her lip. “And if I don’t?”
“If you don’t, your galdur will continue to prime with no way to express it.”
“What does that mean?”
“When you are filled with tension,” said Rey, “fear or anger or other powerful emotions, your galdur is pushed to the surface. You areprimed. But your mind cannot control it. You cannotexpressit, nor weave it into form. Does that make sense?”
She nodded.
“When you’re Cohesed, you’ll be able to control your priming and send the galdur back to your source when you do not wish to light up like a torch.”
She bit down on a smile. “That would be helpful.” Silla took a steadying breath, staring up at him. There was only forward. Only this. “I…don’t want to lose control.”
He took a slow breath. “Harpa has done this hundreds of times, and if you wish, I can leave?—”
“I want you to stay.”
“Very well.” His gaze locked onto hers and held steady. “I’ll stay.”
Goosebumps prickled her skin as the moment stretched on. Silla cleared her throat. Turned to the cabin.
“I’m ready.”
They re-entered the cabin. Harpa had readied a fresh cup of hot water steeped with the catalyst, and Silla drank it as quickly as she could without scalding her tongue. She followed Harpa to a reed pallet, dozens of candles arranged around it.
“Lie here,” said Harpa, gesturing to the pallet. As Silla stretched out, Harpa began. “We light candles for the Father of Light, as he is the source of our galdur.”
Silla’s eyes met Rey’s, candle flames shimmering in his gaze.
“Close your eyes,” ordered Harpa. Silla did as she was told, her heart rate speeding up. “We call upon the Bright One. We ask you, Sunnvald, to grant your power and blessings to Eisa. Fill her with your divine grace so she might bind her mind to her heart.”
Silla already felt the catalyst at work. It began as a trickle of power, growing wilder by the minute, until a glacial river coursed through her veins. That tension…that excruciating tension that begged…pleaded with her for release.
Soon. Soon they would be one.
Bracing against the strange pressure, Silla could feel it gathering in herforearms. She cracked an eyelid open, catching Harpa’s face bathed in that pure white light.
“Close your eyes,” snapped Harpa. “Empty your mind.”
Adjusting herself on the hard pallet, Silla took a deep breath and tried to clear her mind. Her nose itched. A lump dug into her spine. Her tongue slid along the roof of her mouth, back and forth, back and forth.
Harpa exhaled sharply, her impatience stirring the air. Silla could feel the tickle of their gazes like ants marching across her skin. Maddeningly, it seemed the harder she tried to clear her mind, the more her thoughts would wander.
“Count your breaths,” said Harpa. “Deeply in, deeply out.”
Silla took a great, deep breath. Let it out slowly. Tried to clear her mind, allowing her body to relax.
