She couldn’t force the wordyesout of her mouth, so instead she offered Voordizamore. The deepest sacrifice she could find within her.
“Part of me wishes—” her voice was so small, so ashamed. “Wishes I had just abandoned my plans and stayed with Karvek. Let him take control of my life,wield me like a tool, because then I wouldn’t have to face any more failures and know I’d chosen wrong. Becausehewould have chosen for me. And I wouldn’t have to face this pain inside me, these fears inside me… the broken pieces. Because helikedme broken.”
The Keeper had nothing to say to that.
“And his touch,” Iryana almost whimpered the words. “I hated it. But it felt like atonement for everything I’ve done wrong in my life. I have made so many mistakes, and I deserve the punishment of his touch.”
Karvek was rough, demanding. He wasn’t someone who would ensure his lover was satisfied first, or at all. Hetook.
“I could have given into that so easily,” she admitted. “But there’s a man I—have feelings for.”
Gods, she hoped Pyetar was all right.
“Andhetouches me like I am the most worthy thing in the world.” She choked on a sob. “And I’mnot!”
The tears came out quickly now, and she could barely talk through them
“I’m not worthy. And I am terrified that once I save him—because Iwillsave him—he will forgive me and I will give into him, because I want to so badly, and then I will have to spend every moment in his arms feeling unworthy.”
“Voordiza’s magic is—” the Keeper bit out, voice straining. “Ready.”
“Do it,” Iryana demanded.
The Keeper put a spare wooden tool in her hand. “Bite down on this.”
“If this goes wrong.” She took the tool. “Tell Hadima how much I love her.”
“I will,” the Keeper vowed.
Iryana put the tool between her teeth, curled her arms around the end of the bench, and tried to relax.
“Okay, I’m starting,” the Keeper said, taking a breath like she was bracing herself.
And then the tool hit her back, and Iryana screamed.
Gods, it was the most excruciating pain she had ever felt, like her very soul was being hammered into. And the Keeper stopped.
“Don’t stop.” Iryana gasped around the tool as she bit down, her voice muffled.
“But—”
“Don’t. Stop!”
When the needle hit her back again, Iryana was ready for the pain, but still her whole body jolted. Her teeth bit down so hard on the wood in her mouth that she was surprised it didn’t snap, that her teeth didn’t crack.
The woman kept tattooing, the familiar tapping of the tools ringing through the room.
It wasn’t just pain that made the tattooing horrible; it was the feeling of wrongness in it. The way her magic seemed to grow sick inside her, the way her skin prickled and dampened with sweat, the way her soul felt like it was dying.
Please, Voordiza, Iryana begged, though the god was long dead. Her whole body spasmed from the pain.Please let me save them.
Blessedly, the pain continued. The rhythmic tattooing, though jerky, continued along her shoulder. Blessedly—because she was not yet dead.
She could feel the moment the magic of the water well adhered to her. Bonded with her. It waswrong, an intrusion, like bugs crawling under her skin.
Iryana groaned as her breaths came quicker and quicker until she was hyperventilating. Each breath dragged a moan out of her chest. She struggled as the Keeper helped her lean onto her side, baring more skin to be marked.
She wanted it to stop,neededit to stop, but Iryana forced herself to think of those in Karvek’s dungeons. Her screams bounced off the stone, and she hoped Hadima could not hear them.
