Sighing, I sat in Oliver’s vacated seat. Might as well get this over with.
“How did you know using the ceremonial words would work?”
Misery lined his eyes, along with an emotion I was starting to get real sick of. Guilt. He had so much of it, it was a wonder we weren’t all drowning in the oceanfilling him.
“I didn’t. I made a snap decision based on assumptions and some feeble facts.”
I gestured for him to elaborate.
He clasped his hands in his lap and leaned back on the bed.
“What do you know about the cordistella bond?”
My heartbeat stuttered, unsure I liked the start of his explanation.
“I know according to angelic lore they’re two halves of the same soul created by the Weaver. They’re equals. They’re supposed to be able to feel each other’s emotions. They can’t harm each other.” Or shouldn’t be able to. “I know about the praesidium. The ability to eventually track each other’s essence, and the potential for mind-to-mind connection.”
Aspen nodded. “Do you know about the scars or the union ceremony?”
Vaguely. I shook my head.
“There are stages to the bond. First, you become aware of it. Usually, a tingly touch is the start. Proximity allows for the emotional connection to grow, and the stronger it does, the more protective you become, hence the praesidium. Then, as the bond builds, trust is established, relationships form, and there’s the choice to accept. It doesn’t have to be mutual, although it can be disastrous if it isn’t.” He repeatedly squeezed his hands together, tendons snapping back and forth over bone. “But if you accept and say the words, any wound they ever receive will be reflected on your skin, and you will bear half their pain.”
“Does that mean if I were to get stabbed and bleed out, they would too?”
“No. Remember, the cordistella bond was created to form efficient warrior teams. If both parties accept the bond and one is injured, the other will take half the pain so they can continue to fight, but they won’t bleed. Only scar. What you described is something that can happen when only one accepts. Not always. But our world likes balance and punishes imbalance.”
“Good to know. So what’s your point?”
“My point is a question. What part of the cordistella bond is different from the guardian bond?”
“The tattoo. The manipulative control. And you said it yourself—you can’t feel my emotions.”
“I can’t. Just as you’ve never been able to sense me as I can you. I could find you anywhere in this world.”
“Okay?”
“When I was young, my mom once told me, ‘Creation is power, but controlling creation is domination.’”
His mom told him that when he was five?
Aspen’s lips twitched the slightest bit at my expression, his hands relaxing for a moment. “My mom was a seer, remember? Everything she said and did had a purpose. Which is why I think she told me that when I was so young—so I’d remember it now.”
“I’m not following.”
“What if the guardian bond is the cordistella bond, but angel-made? The shadow-wielder said Etan put a rune on him. What if he created it with the intention of choosing the pairing?”
“Why would he want to do that?” From what I remembered from Ronen’s memory, Etan was a vicious, soulless angel. Why would he want anything to do with cordistella pairings?
“What better way to control other angels than by choosing who they bond with? Think about the army he could create if he paired his most loyal servants with anyone he wanted instead of leaving it to fate.”
“Except Ronen said it wasn’t a choice. The rune chooses the best protector.”
Aspen puzzled over that before adding, “Maybe that was the consequence for attempting to play the Weaver. It resulted in a perversion of the bond, but one that almost worked in their favor.”
“How so?”
Aspen leaned over and brushed the cheek Amelia healed. “It forces acceptance and complete compliance. So even if the pairing isn’t their choosing, the other person loses their autonomy in service to their pair regardless.”
