“I have enough raw magic left to forge something.”
The Keeper rolled her thick shoulders back. “Voordiza’s magic won’t accept you without the tattooing ritual; we can’t skip that part. I need a look at your tattoo.”
Iryana pulled her sopping clothes off and accepted a robe from the Keeper, putting it on so that her back was exposed. She kicked her boots and stockings off as well, adding them to the heap. At least the air so deep in the mountain was warmer.
“The symbols are different,” the Keeper mumbled as she traced the metal symbols on Iryana’s body. “But I understand them.”
Iryana stiffened, but she forced herself to lie down on the bench.
She could hear the woman pulling her supplies over and setting up, but this time Iryana didn’t want to watch. If she was going to die, she didn’t want to see it coming.
Slowly breathing, Iryana searched for enough calm to make it through the forging. She didn’t need much from the well, just enough to save her family. Just enough to save Pyetar and the others in the 18th that turned against Karvek.
The gods were lost, there had been no sign of them for hundreds of years. But still, Iryana prayed to Voordiza. Begged her to let her survive this.
Finally, the Keeper spoke. “Tell your truths, the ones not already given to Noshtiz.”
Chapter Forty-Three
“Voordiza’s magic won’t accept the same ones?”
“No.” The Keeper’s voice was apologetic. “It is not much of a sacrifice to give secrets already shared.”
Of course, Iryana thought bitterly. Of course not.
“If the god’s blood requires sacrifice,” she argued half-heartedly. Stalling. “What better sacrifice is there than risking my life to save my family?”
“I won’t pretend you aren’t brave. That I don’t respect you for this choice, stupid as I think you are for it.”
Iryana snorted.
“But the magic of the well is showing no interest in coming out. So no, I would say that is not enough.”
Iryana turned her face into the bench. She knew how this worked. Knew better than to fight it.
There was little time, so she had to go right to where it hurt the most.
“I am angry,” she started. “Angry at my father for what he did. Angry at my mother for leaving. And I am angry with my family for notseeing us hurting.”
She took in a steadying breath of air. “I’ve acted like I’ve forgiven them, but I’m still so angry. I forgave Hadima, but deep inside I’m still mad at her too.”
“Good,” the Keeper encouraged. “More.”
Iryana knew her sister couldn’t hear her, knew far too much stone separated them, but she still feared letting the words out. Feared her sister being hurt by them.
“Hadima is…” Iryana squeezed her eyes shut tighter. “She wasn’t as perfect as I thought, and she’s been hurting too. I am so angry that I didn’t know that. But somehow I amstilljealous of her. Of her relationship with Misha, with the cousins. How comfortable she is in the main house. How she found her purpose and accepted it with open arms. There is—so much I am angry about. But it all pales to the rage I feel for Karvek.”
“The magic is relaxing,” the Keeper said, sounding shocked. “Keep talking. Who is Karvek?”
“He’s the man who has my family, my friends, and—and Pyetar.” Iryana’s voice hardened at the thought. “He is double-forged, or I hope he is. I hope I haven’t grossly miscalculated.” Iryana swallowed. “And I am going to kill him tomorrow.”
The Keeper’s hands stilled. “If you survive this.”
“I will,” Iryana vowed. “I have to.” But she could sense the magic of the well drawing closer, and it felt so wrong. Like she stood in a pitch-black lake and then something brushed against her leg. Somethingbig. That bone-deep, unsettling fear was what she felt at Voordiza’s magic.
“I haven’t done this before,” the Keeper said, sounding breathless. “But there was a Keeper I trained with who tried it early in the wars against the dakii. A man had begged her to try. But the man was dead before the first few symbols were inked. Are yousurethis is what you want?”
Her heart thundered. At least she could know quickly if she was to be killed too.
