“Here, come sit with me, Ny,” he finally said. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
I chilled, not sure how much more I could handle, but I accepted his help as we silently made our way to the stone chairs.
“Do you remember when Thaddeus told you about how he’d turned him, Nevander, and me immortal?”
I nodded, remembering every last detail of that story.
“The men we’d lost that day weren’t the only sacrifice, Ny.” I swallowed, not knowing where he was going with this, or if I even wanted to know. “It’s not entirely true that Nevander and I got out unscathed. You see, the spell started cleaving our souls from our bodies too. When Thaddeus realized what was happening, he attempted to stop it by casting a spell that tethered Nevander and me to him, forcing the spell to mistake our life force for his. It worked, and as a result, our souls returned to our bodies. But, as you know, magic has a cost.” He drew in a bracing breath before continuing, “It took us time to fully comprehend the toll that was exacted, but what we realized is that we’re tethered to Thaddeus in a way that’s not sanctioned by the Mother, and in the most basic of terms, the cost was our individuality.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant. How could someone lose their individuality, and why did he feel the need to tell me this? And why now?
“It’s not my place to tell you how it is for Nevander,” he continued, “but I’ll try my best to explain what it has meant for me, and how it works in general.” Tarrin looked at me, considering. “Have you ever heard of the termstwin flamesormirrored souls?”
“No, I haven’t.”
He lookeddown, searching for something at his feet. Righting himself, he held three long pieces of kindling. Leaning forward, he held his palm over the black remnants of the fire, then took one of the spindly pieces of wood and stuck it in the coals. Blowing softly, he coaxed the small piece of wood to catch fire.
“Twin flames work like this,” he said and brought the second piece of kindling close to the one that was crackling as it slowly burned. “Legend proclaims that some souls choose to be born as two.” He tilted the untouched piece to the small flame, and it caught. “When Thaddeus did what he did”—Tarrin took the third piece of wood and lit it from the original source—“he created a sort of twin flame with Nevander and me.” He emphasized his words by lifting the two flames that had been lit from the first one. “Now, the classic theory of twin flames is that the cleaved soul lives two lives in tandem. Most live and die never having met, but for the rare few that do, they come together in the most beautiful way. They often become lovers, deemed the perfect match or, as they say, soul mates, for their soul has found its other half and is now complete.” A sadness hung in the air as he paused, as if he’d longed for this form of the legend instead of what had been thrust upon him.
“Because Nevander and I were born with our own souls, it didn’t work like that. Thaddeus’ spell cleaved a tiny fraction of himself, kind of like the wisp Amos left behind, and merged with us so that we could live. It took us some time to understand that the part he bound to me was connected to the fragment of him that loves, while Nevander was chained to the side of Thaddeus that will exact vengeance at all costs—it was the reason I was ultimately named second.” The admission seemed to sadden Tarrin, as if he’d wished things were different.
Trying to understand, I watched the tiny orange flames burning separately. My mind pulled at threads of theories, but with the exception, knowing why Tarrin and Nevander were vastly different, I couldn’t get any of the ends to meet.
“The connection,” Tarrin continued, “was deep, pervasive, even.The truth, Ny, is that since that damned spell, it has been near impossible for Nevander and me to go against Thaddeus’ wishes. You see, for us to disagree with him would be to disagree with ourselves. For the past five hundred years, I have been beholden to Thaddeus’ every whim, losing control over myself and who I am. I’m me, until my wants and beliefs are trumped by Thaddeus’, as if I’m a marionette that I can animate as I see fit—until the strings are pulled taut.”
My heart ached for him, at the immense sorrow I could see him grappling with. The helplessness, powerlessness, endlessness of it all. I knew what it was to have your faculties stolen, and to endure something similar for so long was unfathomable to me. Had I been able to, I would have held his hand, let him know I was there for him. Instead, I rested it upon my chest, trying to hold the ache at bay.
Tarrin shifted his gaze toward the stilled waters, which were so at odds with the turmoil that churned within him.
“Yesterday,” he said, not turning back, “you severed the bond the instant you locked us in that dome.”
I jolted, unable to believe his words. How was that even possible?
He faced me again. “I wasn’t sure last night if it was just some residual magic at play or not. But even now, sitting here, I can’t feel him or hear his thoughts. Where someone else had lived within me for centuries is now… empty. It’s just me.”
When the dome slid over us, he’d gasped in what I’d thought was pain. That must have been when it happened. A piece of me felt guilty—sad, even—that I’d done that to him.
“Tarrin, I am so very sorry for doing that to you.”
His brows knit together, and he leaned closer to me. “No, Ny, you misunderstand my meaning. Last night you…” He swallowed, and a tear slid down his cheek. I had to resist reaching out and wiping it away. “You freed me.”
My own eyes welled.
Tarrin allowed the flames to burn as he brought one up and blew it out. He threw the other two onto the hot coals, and they cracked asthey were fully engulfed. He sat there for a long while, staring at the kindling that now had a tiny wisp of smoke dancing upward from where the flames had once burned.
Tarrin and I foraged for food—if one could call taking a few steps, leaning against a tree, then sitting on the groundforaging.
Not too far from camp, we came across a particularly fruitful raspberry bush, which I now knelt beside as I picked berry by berry from the thistly stems.
Tarrin snorted, and I craned my neck to meet his gaze.
“What?” I asked innocently, knowing very well what he was about to say.
“What is this? Thetwo for me, one for youpolicy?” he asked, amused.
I grabbed another plump raspberry and popped it into my mouth. As I was chewing, I said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He shook his head and smiled. I harvested more berries and popped them into my mouth, ignoring the makeshift bowl beside me. “It’s more like thefive for me, one for yourule. See?” I asked, dramatically placing the tiniest raspberry I could find in the bowl.
Tarrin knelt beside me, and with the same theatrical flair, he picked up the lone raspberry and inspected it. “Your generosity is truly unmatched, lady.” Dead serious, he placed the deformed berry on his tongue and made an exaggerated gulping sound as he swallowed it. I nudged him, shoulder to shoulder, drawing out a chuckle. But, as soon as the levity had come, the shadows chased it away.
