"Monday," I sigh. "Not into the office though."
"That's a good thing," She smirks. "You're still gonna come up here as soon as the baby is born, right?"
"Yes," Although, now my mind flashes to what I'm going to do with Athanasius. Will he even be around? "As soon as Marco calls me, I will be on a plane. I swear it."
"Good." She yawns. "I need my nap, go on back to your man."
"He is not my man." I shake my head. "It's…up in the air."
"Like your legs," Orlaya laughs. "Use protection, please?"
Would I even need it with him? Can a Primordial of death procreate? "Trust me, I will."
"Bye, love you."
"Love you too."
Hanging up the phone, I rub my forehead and look at myself in the mirror. The gleam of the ring catches my eye, and I look down at my hand and the silver stoic face staring back at me. I am tied to Athanasius with this. I am his avatar, is what he calls me, tying him to this realm. He's wanting his revenge after he has a little party with his siblings. What happens after that? Athy is dramatic sure, but his talk of reverting the world to how he knew it? How far does that go?
"Took you long enough." Athanasius grunts as I exit the bathroom. "What more did you need to do in there? You still have sleeping clothes on!"
"And I will keep them on for as long as I feel like it, your Grace." Faking a curtsy, I roll my eyes and walk past him. "We need to talk."
"You talk a lot." He sighs. "Move your lips woman, and I will give my attention to what is most pressing."
"Asshole." As we enter the kitchen, he sits at the island, and I pose my question. "Tell me more about this relationship between us. This ring, explain to me what this means, the history, all of it."
He scrunches his nose. "Are you hard of hearing? Or forgetful? Which is it so I know how to proceed."
"You're ineffective at explanations." I'll make us sandwiches and soup.
"Haha," Athanasius blinks both sets of eyes. He's getting better at switching between his forms. He points at me, indicating with his index finger for me to come to him. "You think it’s just a ring, don’t you?" He takes my hand, and turns the ring on my finger. The metal catches the dim light like it'sproudof the part it played. “A charming little trinket. A gift from your god. But no, rabbit. It’s not a token of favor. Not anymore at least, it’s a shackle.”
He pauses, letting the word hang there. "You always do this thing with your mouth—tighten it just a little—when you’re trying not to react. It's adorable."
"Keep talking." I pull my hand from his, grabbing the bread instead.
“This ring was forged by mages, those arrogant little thieves of magic, to tether me. Not tothisbody—this is just the human sized version of my true form—but to this realm. It’s a punishment. Before it, I walked between worlds like a man through doorways. No boundaries. No rules. No… limitations.” He tilts his head, eyes narrowing. “Can you evenimaginethat kind of freedom, little priestess?”
He doesn't wait for my answer. "I already know it. You barely believe in your own power, let alone mine. That’s part of why I like you." He winks. "My avatars weren’t chosen byme—not originally. Families claimed my name for power. Made pacts. Asked for favor. I’d elevate one here or there if I liked them. If they amused me. But I was neverboundto them.”
I stop long enough to watch as his face takes on a look of irritation and maybe…I could be wrong because who are we talking about here, pain. “Then came the betrayal. I think it was the fifteenth century. Give or take. More liketake, honestly. Time’s a blur when you’re betrayed by those who should revere you.” He sneers a little, but maybe it's more from memory than malice.
“They gave the trinkets—this ring, my twin’s bracelet—to the mages. And the mages used them tobindus. Trapped us here, cut off from the realms, left to festerin these little god-shaped prisons." He indicates his body with a hand flourish. "Abandoned by our own avatars.” He looks up at me, solid black eyes on mine. “So when you took the ring… you choseme. Whether you understood it or not, that choice sealed the bond. You’re mine now, Ione. Bound. You serve me, or I make you suffer." Athy holds up all of his index fingers. "There is a caveat for you. Sickness. Weakness. Death, none of those can touch you as long as you're mine.” He smiles. “You can only break it by abandoning me. Such is the way of things now.”
I bristle, just a little, and he smiles. "You represent a challenge. You hate how pompous I can be, but here you are. Unmoving. I adore that. That little spark."
"And killing the mage? What's that about?" Sandwiches finished, I take the soup off the stove, pouring it into two bowls for us. "I have 0 fighting skills. I'm too cute for all that."
“You’ll have your chance to unbind me." He answers, watching as I set the food in front of him. "We’re going to kill the last mage, you and I. When he dies, the spell dies with him. And I’ll be free again. As I once was.” His grin turns wolfish as I sit down next to him. “And perhaps, if you ask nicely… I’ll still choose to keep you.”
Chapter twelve
What Are We?
Ione
"Keepme?"Ianswer,biting into the ham and cheese.
