Damia whispered in my ear, “It’s a line from a book I stole from your study last year.”
I inhaled. Counted to four. Exhaled. But the flowing air did nothing to counteract her smugness playing tug of war with my nerve endings.
“It’s your turn to speak now,” she added as the group of four glanced between themselves and frowns popped up in the ring of our closest friends waiting for the fulfillment of our custom.
Angling my back slightly away from Damia and ignoring the pebble stuck in the ridges of my boot’s sole, I smiled—genuinely smiled. “Damia and I met Conall when we were toddlers, if not babies, and though the years have not been easy on us, today we are beyond pleased to help the man I’m proud to call my brother invoke the binding ritual.”
A breeze ghosted over my neck, ruffling the collar of my t-shirt. Unconsciously, I studied the people forming a protective circle around us in search of?—
Them.
The wind billowed Kali’s and Zion’s loose, high-waisted, black pants and tucked-in shirts, the outfits undeniably chosen to piss me off.
Yet they had the opposite effect, widening the stretch of my lips.
“I know I will remember this day for long.” My chest swelled from the look Conall gave me, and raspiness laced my voice. “Unbreakable promises will be forged today, so as my second wedding gift, Conall, here it is: a thank you. You kicked my ass with the sweetest speech in existence this morning, and I thank you for it.”
Conall’s smile drowned in the chuckles emanating from his partners and rolling over from our friends gathered nearby. The sounds blended into one, building a protective wall, a shield guarding the participants.
Damia gave me a curt nod, and once I’d dipped my chin in return, she stepped forward, speaking the first line. “State your demand, and we shall commence.”
Taking each other’s hands, Conall, Nissa, Dain, and Aanya formed a line in front of the rope lying on the ground. “We summon you both to bind us,” they said in tandem.
Aanya plucked a plum-colored velvet bag from her pocket and extended the gift to us. “Speak the oath, and these shall be yours to call upon.”
In unison, Damia and I responded, “We accept the offering made. Relinquish yourselves to our judgment, and we shall weigh your words fairly.”
“We surrender to your judgment.” Their foursome’s voices, high and low, crashed like a waterfall, obliterating everything but the here and now.
As I took the pouch from Aanya, the silk ribbon floated away, dancing on a current of air to an inaudible song. The square-shaped fabric fell flat on my palm, revealing four sparkling pieces inside, each no bigger than a pinky nail.
Damia placed the first one on Conall’s palm. “Recite the first vow to me, the witness to your knot,” she commanded him, cupping his hand and folding it into a fist.
“I vow twice.” His jaw ticked as the shard of glass sliced his flesh. “I promise to hold you three as my home.” Conall raised Dain’s hand to kiss his partner’s knuckles. “And I promise not to give any more coffee to Gedeon, so you can have all you want.”
Laughter blanketed the square, its chimes accompanying the crackles of firewood, the heat blasting our exposed skin as mighty as Dain’s blush.
Taking the second fragment meant to draw blood, I strode to Nissa standing at the end of their formation. “Recite the second vow to me, the teller of your future,” I said as I passed her the transparent piece.
“I vow once,” she declared. Both of us closed her palm, and the veins in her hand bulged as the sharp edges punctured her skin. “I promise to give you freedom, to let go if you ask.” Nissa laid a feather-light kiss on Aanya’s forehead. “Always.”
Fishing out the third chip from the pouch, Damia handed it to Aanya and closed her fist. “Recite the third vow to me, the writer of your story.”
The woman as delicate as Eislyn, their kindness unmatched, flinched as the shard opened her capillaries. “I vow thrice. I promise not to run when things get too hard,” she said, sharing a soft smile with me.
A month had been all it took for Aanya to run from my compound to Conall’s after we had smuggled her out of the city. Our proximity to Ilasall had been a challenge too petrifying to overcome for her.
“I promise to always be willing to talk.” Peeking at Dain, she finished, “And I promise to help Conall make you coffee in the mornings.”
Awwsshot through the flames reaching for the sky. Aanya hid her bashfulness in Dain’s shoulder, their trust in each other beckoning me to hunt for Kali and Zion again.
The two people I would annihilate the world for, watch it plummet into anarchy, push it over the cliff myself if needed, stood wrapped around each other, as though the rope spread at our feet had slithered to Kali and Zion and secured them in an embrace.
I blamed the smoke from the fires for the moisture pooling in my eyes.
Unsuccessfully hiding a sniffle, I located the last item in the pouch and lowered it on Dain’s waiting palm. “Recite the fourth and the last vow to me, the weaver of your fate.”
“I vow once.” Dain balled his hand, his expression unwavering as the glass sliced him open. “I promise to lift you off the ground when life gets too tough.”
