I don’t know if I want to scream or crack up right now.
“You kids coming?” Getta hollers out from the open back door, and I glare at her house.
Well played, you wrinkled old ninja. Well fucking played.
Knox slaps me on the ass as he passes, and like an obedient steed, it gets me moving. I rub my cheek and follow him into Getta’s house, the lights dim and the furnishings quaint. There’s a very warm and homey feel to the inside of her cottage that makes me want to sink into a big chair and just chill. There are books everywhere and the kind of clutter it seems all elderly people tend to have. Issak sets Getta into a rocking chair that has intricate carvings of deer and other creatures all over it, and she’s wiggling around to get comfortable.
He sits at her feet, and even sitting, he’s still taller than she is. I stare at his gargantuan size before Getta motions for all of us to sit down, and it pulls me from my gawking. There’s a fire going, and it gives off a comforting glow as shadows dance on the cottage walls. I sit next to Getta on a small stool, and the guys all find perches here and there too.
“So, girl, tell me what it is you want to know, or do you expect me to read your mind as well as your heart?”
I shake my head again at the realization that Getta got me, and I sort through the lists of questions I’ve been making note of in my mind since I was young. I start at the top.
“What are Sentinels, and where do we come from?” I ask, my voice strong and clear, and the room goes quiet with anticipation.
“Well, fuck, you don’t have anything smaller we can start with?” she asks. “No foreplay questions?”
Knox busts out laughing and promptly tries to cover it up when Getta gives him a glare.
“Issak, be a good lad and make some tea for everyone. I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night if that’s where we’re starting,” she giggles.
Issak says nothing as he rises and ducks through a doorway that leads out of the room. I hear the clanging of dishes and water filling something.
Getta clears her throat and begins to rock her chair rhythmically back and forth. “We come from a different place whose name most no longer remember. We were one branch of many magical branches, but we got it in our heads that we should always be at the top of the tree. With promises and power, we enslaved others, and we lived that way for a very long time.”
Getta stares at the fire as she talks, and I find myself hypnotized by the light flickering over her worn face as she starts to weave it all together.
“With time, the people we squashed under our boot—for no one’s sake aside from our own—rose up and demandedno more. It started with battles and quickly turned into wars. We were arrogant and powerful, but our numbers have always grown slowly. That, however, was not the case for the ones who we fought against. In less than a century, we went from hunter to hunted, and our people were desperate.”
I lean forward, my heart hammering in my chest. I have to keep from pinching myself just to make sure this is actually happening. I’ve waited so long for answers, and here they are, spilling so freely from Getta’s thin aged lips.
“We awoke the gates of old, the ones that first brought beings to our land, and fled everything we ever knew to start over. But did we learn our lesson? Did we change our ways?”
Getta scoffs and shakes her head.
“I’m going to go withnoon that one,” Valen states, and laughter flutters around the room.
“You would be right, boy. Because when we arrived here, we once again wanted to be the top of the tree. It wasn’t enough that we could be the root or the trunk. The Ouphe of old didn’t see that as a position of strength. They just saw the surrounding branches and wanted to top them all. And so history repeated itself until we were once again forced to flee. By then, the gates were closed to us. There weren’t enough with the Bonds to open them, so we hid, and thus Tierit was created.”
“What is the Ow-f?” I ask, trying to repeat a word she used to describe the older generation.
“The Ouphe is what we once were and must fight to never become again. We have abandoned those ways of thinking and the magic that made it all possible. Only a handful of Bond Weavers still exist. They keep to themselves and only use their light rarely as it now sparks fear in most.”
Issak stalks into the room and hands Getta a cup and saucer. She takes it with a grateful smile, and then he turns and presses another cup and saucer into my hands.
“Oh, thank you,” I tell him, to which he grunts and disappears back into what I assume is the kitchen.
He returns several more times until everyone has tea, and then he once again takes his place at Getta’s feet. I sip my tea and have to fight every instinct in my body not to spit it back out. I swallow and try not to gag. I give the cup and then Issak a dirty look for trying to poison me.
“What exactly is this tea?” I ask, trying to sound polite and failing.
Getta laughs. “Best to shoot it straight back if you’re not used to it. It’s good for the circulation.”
I stare at my cup and cringe.Eh, what the hell. Bottoms up.
I toss back the tea that tastes like moldy farts and hold my breath. As I swallow it, I secretly try to wipe my tongue with the skirt of my dress before giving up on the discreet part of that plan and just going for it. I see out of the corner of my eye some of the guys gagging and cringing, and I chuckle knowing my taste buds are not alone in their suffering.
“Interesting,” I croak out as Getta looks at me with raised eyebrows like she’s asking me what I think.
