“Show yourself,” I spoke as firmly as I could, willing the shakiness from my voice. I was not sure what I expected, maybe a shimmering light and then a magical pop of some sort? But what I got was simply an old woman, seeming to emerge from the shadows as if she were a part of them.
“You have grown into such a beautiful woman since I last saw you,” the woman said in a voice full of warmth and familiarity.
I was confused. Not only by the fact that there was a strange woman in my room, but also by the fact that she seemed familiar with me, and yet I had not a clue as to her identity.
“Why am I not calling for help?” I asked her before I could stop myself.
“Because you know that I am not a danger to you,” she said simply. “And because I do not want you to.
“I do?”
She nodded. “Your magic would recognize if I possessed ill intent.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I have my own sort of power about me. And magic recognizes certain things, even when we do not.”
“And our magic…” I motioned to myself and then to her. “It’s alike?”
“Not exactly.”
I started to shift to sit on the edge of the bed, but my body felt sluggish and heavy. Although I could still feel the fear inside of me, my body seemed to be all out of fight. “I really feel like I should be afraid right now,” I said to the woman as I eased myself back onto my pillow to keep from falling like a pile of rocks. “But I just don’t have it in me.”
She walked slowly over to me, her movements stiff from age. When she reached me, the woman gingerly took the duvet that was still clasped in one of my hands and tugged it free to then pull it up and cover me. “You have no need to fear me, Allete,” she said soothingly. “My name is Myra, and I’m here to help.”
“Do I know you?” I asked.
Myra shook her head. “No, but I know you, and that is what is important. You brought a soul back from the netherworld, and the action has left your spirit wounded. It is tearing your soul in half.”
“How do you—” I began, but stopped when she held up her hand.
“I wish there was more time, child, but there is not. I was not aware that this was going to happen. Magic can have a mind of its own. And news of your illness did not get to me until late this evening. Little Amelia was eager to tell me of how an angel saved her, but her mother had made her rest before she could come tell me.”
“Amelia?” I was trying to make sense of her words, but my mind was sluggish. She sounded muffled, as if I were listening to her from the bottom of a well. I tried to concentrate, but it seemed that she was speaking so quickly.
“I am not speaking quickly, Allete, you are fading. Shush now and listen. You need the one who calls to your soul. You need your anchor. Every seer and every healer must have a counterpart. The anchor keeps your soul tethered to his soul. This, in turn, keeps you tethered to the living. Without your anchor, your life will slowly begin to fade, with each piece of it you give away to those in need. And with one like Amelia, who needed so much, it fades even faster.”
“Anchor? My soul? I don’t understand,” I tried to say, but I wasn’t sure if my words made sense. Was I dying? Was that what Myra was trying to tell me?
“You will die if you do not allow Torben into your presence. He is your anchor. He can help you,” Myra said, her voice growing more urgent. “You have to be willing to let him help. Are you willing, child? Will you let Torben of the Hakon Clan, future king of his people and father of your young, to tether your life to his?”
I stared up at the old woman, wondering if I was delusional. Had I imagined this woman? Was my mind slipping into oblivion? Had I subconsciously, as an act of psychic self-defense, conjured the specter of an old woman whose words could give me hope? I could no longer tell if she was real or simply a figment of my imagination. When my breathing became even more difficult, I decided that, real or not, I was going to allow myself to believe that her words of hope were true.
“Yes,” I answered simply, and to my own ears, my voice was breathy and barely audible.
“Thank the gods, finally,” I heard her mutter. There was a loud bang, and then I heard Myra yell. “Get in here, Torben of the Hakon Clan, if you want your woman to live.”
I could see her shattered face as she stared back at me, begging me to understand why I was saying such things to her. I wish I knew why I kept telling her I could help. But the problem was, I did not understand my own words. I didn’t know what was wrong and had no clue how to help and it was maddening. She was sick. I had no idea why and no idea how to fix her.
“Get in here, Torben of the Hakon Clan if you want your woman to live.”
The familiar voice woke me from sleep that I hadn’t eve realized had captured me. Brant was across from me, wide awake.
“You needed it,” he said by way of explanation at my, no doubt, irritated face.
Then it registered that someone had called my name. I turned and grabbed the door handle and pushed it open without even knocking or announcing myself. Myra stood by Allete’s bed, hovering over the princess’s too-still form.
“What have you done?” I snarled. The anger in me rose swiftly as I lunged toward the witch.
“Peace, warrior,” Myra said and held up a hand freezing me in place. “I mean her no harm. I am here to help her, and you.”
“Release me,” I snapped, irritated that she had ensnared me so easily. She did immediately and I was in motion once again. But instead of heading for Myra, I moved to the other side of the bed and climbed onto it, walking across on my knees until I was beside Allete. “Tell me,” I demanded.
“She needs you,” the witch said simply.
“What do I do?” When she did not answer right away, I lifted my head and looked at her. She was looking back at me with a pleased gleam in her tired eyes.
“You are a good match for her.”
“I am no match for her if she is dead. Tell me what to do so I can fix this.” I looked back down at the woman that the gods had given to me and felt my chest tighten at the sight of how pale she was.
“A blood oath needs to be struck, and your souls need to be bound.”
“Do it,” I said without pause.
“Just like that?” she asked. “No explanation as to why?”
“Will it save her life?”
“Yes.”
“Then I don’t give a shite as to why, just do it.”