Whatever Flint said to him, I never knew, but the moment Gabel caved and bowed to the chains that would bind both of us, the pain cut through the Bond like glass, and I sobbed once.
Gabel turned back around, and it was all I could do to raise my head to meet his gaze, my eyes watering with tears, and his eyes were so bright, bright and horrible and he had been beaten.
We had been bested. We had surrendered.
And it was just glass, glass, glass, a thousand pieces of glass coursing like blood cells up and down the Bond.
Gabel’s voice was not steady, the edges of it seemed to crumble around each word. “The IronMoon only ask that those among us keep their promises and honor their obligations. I cannot have a Luna who does not carry this in her heart. Gianna never told me anything, but—”
A final yank between us as Gabel flung himself against the Moon’s will, the pressure, and flirted with refusing to obey, and a violent urge to rip Kiery into two pieces.
Flint grabbed his bicep and spoke low, forceful by his ear.
Gabel found his voice again, and it was more unsteady than before. “But if she somehow conveyed more meaning to me than she should have, it was her responsibility to know where such lines exist.”
I crumbled inside and almost believed him. His words toppled everything inside me, and I sobbed, “No, Gabel, I—”
His words stretched tight, uneven. “You may come back to IronMoon. But... I...”
I tried to prepare myself for what was coming.
“May the Moon hear me: I repudiate you as my Luna and my Bound. I do not know you.”
The pain of those words is excruciating.
Flint was right. If I had known what he knew, I would never have had the courage.
I curled over and screamed. Gabel staggered and Flint caught him. The Bond twisted, constricted, and my mind swam red, then bright, bright blue. The blue filament snapped tight around our Bond, binding it across the middle and knotted tight, and I screamed again.
Gabel was gone.
He was just gone from my awareness, part of me gone, beyond my reach, a void, and my soul fled down the Bond, chasing after phantoms.
He turned his back and walked away, limping with Flint holding him up and his knees barely worked, but I couldn’t feel his pain, or his suffering, his anger, his feral rage, the burning coal that he had been in my awareness, and he was gone, and the Bond dangled in the breeze, and it was still there, but oh the Moon—
You have no idea what She’s asking of you.
Instinct grabbed my throat, yanked me upright. “Gabel, no!”
It was too late, and just like in the vision, I screamed and pled, and Flint half-pulled, half-guided Gabel away.
The pain intensified, and my soul tried to squeeze through the remains of the Bond.
It ran up against the tourniquet created by the blue filament.
If the knot had not been there, I would have died, bleeding into the chasm between souls.
Flint was right: death didn’t free any of us.
**You must both do this. Your hearts will break, the pain will be great, you may both despise Me, but you must each be in the place where I need you most.**
The agony, the wrongness of it, it was too much.
Flint’s bare feet appeared by my face. Two items dropped onto the snow: my chunk of obsidian, and the small canvas bag holding my bag of runes, my blue tourmaline spear and the RedWater fangs. I grabbed his ankle. “Flint—”
“You are not coming back to IronMoon,” he told me, his voice a cord that pulled through my awareness.
I rolled my eyes up to him, saw the blue-gloss tattoos swimming in my vision. They curled towards me. I reached for them, shaking violently.
Vindication. I had to vindicate myself.
Vindication. Justice. Balance.
I would force the Oracles, and the SableFur, to give Gabel and I justice.
Flint grabbed my hand and pulled me back to my knees.
He leaned down to my ear and whispered, “I warned you, Gianna. It is a pain almost beyond bearing, but we must, and it will not last forever. Say your final words to Gabel and choose them well.”
Tears blurred my vision. His hand squeezed my bicep so tight my fingers tingled and went numb, and his old grief sank against my skin. He knew this pain, he survived it, he fought through it for the promise of being with her again.
I grabbed his forearm, the pain in my belly so intense, my soul revolted and flailed. I wasn’t guilty. I was where the Moon needed me to be, and all needed to believe: that my Bond was dead, that Gabel hated me, and that I had been wrongly accused.
My awareness swam in hot agony, lashed by wires and toxins, as the agony of the knotted Bond grew. I dug my hand into Flint’s bicep, unaware that my fingers elongated and extended, nails drawing blood as fury buoyed my awareness for one last effort. “I will prove my innocence and vindicate myself. Tell Gabel he will regret this! Tell him he will regret taking the word of Oracles over his Luna! He knows my gifts are intact and that the Moon does not punish me! I choose vindication, and the Moon will grant me justice!”
Grant all of us justice.
Flint didn’t respond except to release me. He turned and walked away, and I managed to not double over and groan. Feigning anger over Gabel’s trust in me had taken the last of my strength, and while I managed to stay upright, I wept uncontrollably.
Flint had been right.
They were all gone.
And I was alone.
SableFur: Interlude
“She opted for vindication,” Kiery told Magnes.
The SableFur Alpha rarely concerned himself with these matters, but the former IronMoon Luna was of special interest. “Gabel repudiated her?”
“Yes. The Bond is broken.”
“Did she survive?”
“She is very sick, but alive.” Kiery sounded annoyed. “She is in delirium, raving about knots and vindication.”
Magnes eyed the Oracle. “Can she prove herself innocent?”
Kiery sat down despite the lack of invitation. Magnes’ expression pinched a few degrees. They’d always had a difficult relationship. The SableFur Alpha and Luna would have preferred the more demure, SableFur-bred Thessa to replace Anita as the premier Oracle in the pack, not the foreign-bred, outspoken Kiery.
But Kiery was an Elder Oracle, having achieved the distinction after training an Oracle herself. The irony wasn’t lost on Kiery that the Oracle she’d helped train was the very one now residing in disgrace a few hours north.
Being a young Oracle (and an even younger Elder) was a challenge Kiery didn’t enjoy, especially when she had to deal with an Alpha almost old enough to be her father, over a matter that she didn’t think he should be involved in at all. “Probably. Having met Gabel,” Kiery pondered the SableFur Alpha for a moment, then said, “he’s not the idiot everyone thinks he is. Thessa reported his office is full of books, maps, plans, antiques. Gabel also had another older wolf with them, covered in old-order runes with blue-gloss ink. Gabel heeded this wolf’s counsel. My bet is that wolf advised Gabel to let Gianna go so she could clear her name.”
“So you don’t believe she’s guilty.”
Kiery bristled with aggravation but kept her tone civil. “I’ve never believed she was guilty. You asked me to defer to Anita, but I maintain this was a serious mistake. The time for the Oracles to be concerned about her was months ago.”
“She’s your student, wasn’t she?” Magnes inquired.
There were days when she fantasized about throttling Magnes, and this was one of those days. “Anita and I both trained her, but yes, she was my first student. Gianna was devoted to becoming an Oracle. She wouldn’t have betrayed her vows.”
“Nobody is suggesting Gianna did it carelessly. I believe it’s more likely that Gabel wore her down, tormented her, and warped her perception of things. Maybe he threatened her, maybe he did worse. She might have crossed the line just to survive. I know you say that Oracles
are supposed to die before they betray their vow of silence, but let’s be realistic, Kiery,” Magnes said.
Kiery pondered him another moment, then her face smoothed over as she schooled her emotions away from the surface. “I suppose we’ll see. Gianna wants vindication.”
“You could just not let that happen.”
“It’s her right to demand it.”
“With so much at stake?” Magnes tapped his fingertips on his desk.
“This is exactly why I’m opposed to this. I understand why Anita asked you for help, and I deferred to you when you asked me to back her.” Kiery growled silently to herself, then continued in a steady voice, “But you saw an opportunity, too. You wouldn’t have gotten SableFur involved if there wasn’t an upside for you.”
“Don’t accuse me of using my Oracles to deal with the likes of Gabel.” Magnes dismissed her statement.
Kiery raised a brow. “Anita appealed to you for help, and you took the opportunity like you hunt rabbit. Gabel having a rebellious Oracle wouldn’t have lasted. The Moon would have dealt with Gianna in time. As I said, the time to be concerned for her was months ago.”
Magnes’ expression hardened. “You are assuming Gabel survives.”
Kiery couldn’t keep the bitterness out of her voice. “I’m going to defer my anger. If Gabel’s the Dark Comet and she’s the Balance-Keeper, they’ll both survive, and she’ll vindicate herself.”
“If,” Magnes said like Kiery had just suggested they fart rainbows and eat glitter. “Gabel is a violent thug, Kiery. He just happens to be a bit smarter than the average thug.”
Kiery snorted and shook her head. “Males. You’re the Alpha, and you’re just as obnoxious to talk to as Lucas. Gabel is rumored to be a lupine. If that’s true, then he’s brilliant and mentally disciplined to overcome his early life. That wolf with the tattoos.” She mulled it over. “I do not know him. Do you?”
“Flint. The IronMoon Master of Arms. I don’t know anything else about him, except that he is older and has a reputation for being a skilled warrior.”
“His tattoos have the old-order blue-gloss.” Kiery gestured to her own arm. “To get that gloss it has to be done in a certain holy way. The technique was lost hundreds of years ago. His seem to move if I stared at them long enough, and legend has it if an Oracle does try to scry in them, the ink will tell her what it’s bound the wearer to. The biggest one was service to the Moon, and I doubt he’d be in a pack like IronMoon unless he had a reason. Flint is the one who told him to let Gianna go.”
“So he has sense,” Magnes said. “A disgraced Oracle isn’t an appropriate Luna.”
“Or Flint knows Gianna will be vindicated and will eventually return to IronMoon with the honor of the SableFur Oracles around her neck,” Kiery said with a mild shrug. “I told you before indulging Anita was unwise, and I tell you again.”
“But the Moon did not warn you off this,” Magnes reminded her.
Kiery hid a scowl. And that was where Magnes nailed her paw into the ground every single time. Three times Kiery had tried to get the Moon to offer guidance on this subject, and three times Her Eye had been closed. “And that is the only reason I am going along with this.”
“Then you and I should both trust Anita to know her business. You’re young to be an Elder Oracle. I’ve learned to trust my Oracles. I have my oldest Oracle telling me of a rogue Oracle, and the Alpha bound to her is the Destroyer, while the Moon is otherwise silent. Do you disagree some action had to be taken?”
Kiery stood. She was done irritating herself on this, because Magnes was right: Anita was the one who had had the visions. Kiery was the one the Moon didn’t want to talk to. “I won’t hinder or help Gianna vindicate herself. I also think you’re talking out of both sides of your mouth. This time you’ve crossed a line. I don’t appreciate it.”
Magnes smiled. “Then I suggest, Oracle, to take your annoyance to the Moon, and perhaps ask yourself why you aren’t the one She wants to talk to. Perhaps you are too fond of your old student.”
Kiery stalked towards the door, seething. “You should find out more about this Flint. We should know who did his tattoos.”
“Why does that matter?”
“The warriors who wore the blue-gloss were Her Chosen,” Kiery growled. “When lost knowledge suddenly re-appears I think it’s worth investigating. If you don’t, Magnes, I’m going to start wondering why you’re so determined to not care.”
The SableFur Alpha didn’t flinch, or betray any emotion at all. “I’m not determined to not care, Oracle. I simply don’t.”
Not So Fast
The pain kept me alive: it wouldn’t let me die.
Was this what Flint had experienced? My soul kept trying to flee down the shattered Bond, slip into the chasm between souls and into the next world, but it couldn’t. The Moon had tied that one escape off, bringing it into death throes that could never end.
My body remained stuffed full of flailing, burning, agonized soul.
The SableFur, believing me to be legitimately repudiated, expected me to die. Maybe even hoped Gabel would die.
I did not die. I could not die.
My next memory was daylight streaming through thin, ugly curtains.
Curtains. There are no curtains in our room.
It hit me all over again. I doubled over onto the thin mattress. My throat choked as I tried to scream.
Anita’s bungalow. The tiny little attic room, barely large enough for the mattress and not even tall enough to stand in because of the dramatic slope to the roof. The world swam through water and moonlight.
Get up.
There wasn’t much: a mattress on the floor, a single bar bolted to the wall to hang clothing, a few extra blankets folded in a corner. Piled onto the blankets were my bag of runestones, and the velvet-wrapped chunk of obsidian. I wept with relief and crawled over to them. I picked up the obsidian chunk and clutched it to my breasts.
It slumbered in my arms, a void of secrets waiting for their time.
Flint had been right. If I had had any idea my courage would have failed me. I’d have told Gabel to fight.
I wept over the obsidian chunk.
Without a bowl it would be impossible to vindicate myself. The chunk would not be ready for carving for another six weeks, and then however long it took the stonecutter to do the work, then yet more time to imbue the bowl. I was weeks, months, away from my prize.
Anita had succeeded in getting me away from Gabel. She lived out here with the other advanced acolytes in isolation. She was queen here, and so old that if the Moon stripped her of her Gift for her sins, she could simply retire or fake it.
I was her prisoner.
First order of business: escape.
I could only go as far as the care of another Oracle. Neither of the other options were a good choice. Kiery had been one of my teachers, and Thessa was Anita’s little toad. But both lived within earshot of other SableFur, and if they tried to keep me from vindicating myself someone would hear me howl.
“You’d be proud of me, Gabel,” I whispered to the obsidian orb. “Cunning is your job.”
Time to drag myself downstairs. I rolled the obsidian back to the corner, then tried to stand. I got halfway upright before a wave knocked me back to my knees.
Trembling seized me.
Too weak to stand. Too sick to stand.
I crawled across the floor, opened the door, eased myself down the narrow staircase that opened up onto the second floor. The attic room wasn’t a prison, and it wasn’t the first time I had been up there. It was saved for Oracles or students who needed peace and stillness, usually after a bad time on the Tides.
“Gianna!” a young voice said.
I twisted and saw one of the young acolytes who had been at my disgrace. I snarled at her as she tried to come close, and she leapt back, hands outstretched but fingers drawn back, unsure what to do.
Oh, and I was naked.
...Gabel...
I
laid my head down and moaned in pain.
“Gianna is awake!” the acolyte shouted down the hall.
I dragged myself up onto all fours, and crawled down the hallway to the stairs. The acolyte followed me. Another young acolyte appeared, and she was equally useless.
I sort of slid down the stairs, landed in a crumpled heap at the bottom, barely paid attention given my soul hurt so much worse than my body, and through bleary, watery eyes, crawled to the tiny living room where Anita lectured two more acolytes.
Fury replaced some of my pain, washed my brain in stupidity, crippled me, and dropped me to the ground. I rolled over, stared at the ceiling, grasping for something that wasn’t there.
Anita, sitting in her favorite chair, spoke to me. She didn’t get up. Her voice carried. “You’re finally awake.”
Oh yes, you old bitch. I am awake.
I tried to say something but my awareness couldn’t swim through the fever-wash. I pulled myself onto my belly so I could at least face her.
Her old eyes were narrow slits. “Gabel is not going to put that crown of shattered obsidian on your head, Gianna. I’ve made sure that won’t happen.”
That’s what you think.
My body couldn’t obey my brain, so I just drooled and stared at her instead of howling. Was she confessing her motive to me? Or just trying to make it sound like she got me out of a bad situation for my own good? I closed my eyes and shook my head, hoping to clear it.
Anita had green socks on her feet. Green socks with little textured rubber grip things so she wouldn’t slip and fall.
The acolytes hovered like nervous birds.
“When that bowl is prepared, you can start your retaining and atonement,” Anita said.
Atonement.
The word yanked on my spine. Who told her atonement! I snarled and lifted myself onto one elbow. “Vindication!”
Anita’s lips curled. “What did you say?”
“I am innocent.” My voice was hoarse from screaming. “I want vindication!”
She scowled.
Iron Oracle Page 8
