“What is that?” said Thrush, just now noticing my weapon.
Something’s coming to split, to cleave, to surge
Something’s coming and slabs and crags will merge
I looked out again at those five, dark black and gray monoliths that never moved despite the force of Sister Sea.
Now the warships were even closer.
One of his hands was completely severed from the rest of his body.
For that is what Gareth Pope had not written down, his final conclusion as to how an earth Tintarian could summon the five stone drakes and reassemble them as mountain monsters of a long ago age.
My left hand will deliver them,his last entry had read.My right command them.
It was too much magic for the mere shedding of blood. The summoning required a whole hand.
Only the left hand of loss will bring forth the wonder
Only the left hand of loss to sacrifice and to sunder
He had sacrificed his left hand. An earthquake’s crashing rocks had not severed it from his body. He had done it himself, in a bid to summon the drakes. And the magic, perhaps it had been too much for him and he had lost control, forgetting to employ his right hand to command the drakes, his mind filled with the agony of the severing of his own left hand. He had been prepared for the rush of magic, but not the reality of the pain. Somehow, in some way, I knew that in the core of me. But, in knowing this, in learning from this, I could be prepared for both the pain and the power.
I could be prepared when I cut off my own left hand.
I have loved you too much, my mother wept in my ears.This hurts, girl. Both of us.
Tears streamed down my face as I looked at my man, shouting my name, beating his fists against the flow and the scrape of the rock wall, hurling himself at it.
Thrush, standing closer to me, sword raised still, was hollering at my holding up of my axe, thinking it was for him, not knowing it was for me.
I looked back out at the sea, at the stone drakes. Five for five fingers, I thought.
Something comes of rock, roar and might
Something comes from first the left and then the right
In my ears, my goddess sung to me, a lullaby of a mother to her baby.So strong, my girl. This is the end and I be here with you through the last of it. Keep your right hand steady before and after. That is the trick of it. Do not let the pain fill your mind.
And then, through all of the commotion around me, over the punishing tirade of Thrush, over Cian’s bitter replies to his accusers, decrying Tintar as a country of brutes in need of a better ruler than Hinnom, over the shouts of the Procurers, Jeremanthy and his soldiers, over Thalia’s sarcastic belittlement of Cian, Yro’s chanting of some worship to Brother Air, over Bamber and Peregrine’s damning Cian for his betrayal, I heard my true Knelling. Not only did Mother Earth speak, but the other three gods of Tintar had their say.
Father Fire said, in the voice of an imposing ruler,you have had rage.
Brother Air said, in a voice that barely used more than a whisper,you have been free.
Sister Sea said, with a clear and inviting voice,you have gone deep.
And then my goddess spoke, tears and stones in her voice,you have loved me, girl. And I, you. If you do not bleed out, the magic itself will take your life. It is a wealth of divinity. Know that I love you. I will greet your body in my wood. But I am here. For the last of it.
I slowly stretched out my left hand, admiring the ranunculus one last time and the slim silver wedding band on the ring finger. I placed it beside me, flat against the watchtower wall, the scarred palm facing out. On my right side, I held the sagaris out, level with my chest. I turned to my husband and spoke his name. In his efforts, he did not hear me and I spoke it again and he paused to look up at me, the other three Procurers with him, staring at me. “Husband,” I said, my words a choke, hoping he saw the love in my eyes. “Take my body to Nyossa.”
He screamed my name.
And I brought the blade down on my left wrist.
100. Roar
The sagaris sliced like a claw through flesh and bone, the blade ringing as it met the stone of the watchtower. Time stilled for a second, my hand yet flattened up against the wall, held up by nothing and then it fell to the ground and blood shot out of my stump.
