Page 16 of The Bloodstone Oath

Selara swallowed. In her mind she recited the opening invocation, but a voice in the back of her mind murmured,you are no longer pure. Solthorn will wither because you spread your legs for a Fireforged prince.

She sliced her palm, anyway, holding her breath as pain shot up her arm. Blood budded, slid down the glass into the obsidian bowl. The gem flared, then steadied. The Song of Binding rose around her, deep bass drones threading through high keens. She turned to the sacrifice; a snow-white goat, eyes wide, bound with a tether of woven vines.

Her hand shook. She saw Kaelor’s face, flushed with pleasure, whispering endearments against her ear. She smelled sweat and crushed petals. She felt his fingers inside her, coaxing prayers from her throat that had nothing to do with gods.

Focus.

She lifted the blade and hesitated. What if Solthorn rejected her? What if the goat’s blood fell into the bowl and the plant remained silent, its leaf-veins dim, vines drooping? The elders would know. The treaty would snap. Kaelor would either escape or be sacrificed with her.

She glanced at Veyla, whose pursed lip and furrowed brow, gave Selara no quarter. The path was laid before her and there was only one way she could go.

A whisper brushed her ear, maybe wind, maybe the god-plant itself.Blood is blood.

She exhaled, steadying the blade against the goat’s throat. “Forgive me,” she murmured, then drew a swift, deep slice along its snow-white neck.

Blood poured, steaming in the cool air, filling the bowl. Selara stared at it, her body weak, not daring to look up. She could feel Talia at her side, both holding their breath.

Nothing happened.

They exchanged a furtive glance.

“We can escape,” Talia mouthed the words to her as the tree stood silent, the goat bleeding out, overflowing the obsidian bowl, its blood running in streams into the creviced roots of the giant tree.

Selara felt tears prick at her eyes as the chanting grew louder. It was as if the elders were willing the tree to accept the sacrifice, though some wavering in their voices showed their confused doubt.

And then…Solthorn’s vines quivered. They began to stretch, as if just rising from a deep sleep. Selara’s knees weakened as her head spun. Crimson light flushed Solthorn from leaf-tip to root-core. A rush of living energy surged through the clearing. Mushroom lamps flared brighter; dormant blossoms snapped open in riotous scarlet. A collective gasp rippled through the elders.

The rite worked. Magic hummed through Bloomrest’s hidden conduits, revitalizing the city’s wards. Selara’s stance weakened, and she stumbled forward, catching herself on the altar edge. The Bloodstone throbbed, the pain bursting through her as if she had stepped into a fire. A choked cry rose from her lips.

Solthorn is punishing me.

Every inch of her skin burned. Thorne stepped forward supporting her elbow. “Your skin…” he murmured in horror.

Selara’s half-closed eyes could barely focus on her fingers, gripping the roots of Solthorn. Scarlet lines spread across them in rippling waves.

She was defiled by vow’s measure and Solthorn was marking her for that.

But the power that infused Solthorn was undeniable, brighter than it had ever been.

“The wards sing,” Veyla pronounced. “Solthorn is satisfied.”

“The Priestess departs now for Emberhold, bearing Bloomrest’s blessing,” Cassian announced before he trailed Veyla as she left the sacred grove.

Elders bowed to Solthorn as acolytes scattered to their morning duties.

Selara finally allowed her grip to lessen, falling to her knees among the roots of Solthorn. Talia cut through the binding of her braid, loosening her hair to shadow her face. Thorne arranged her robe and cloak to cover any part of her skin.

“You are in no shape to travel to Emberhold,” Talia whispered to Selara, kneeling at her side.

“I… must… go,” Selara ground the words out between gritted teeth, the fire in her body now rooting itself into the deep marrow of her bones.

“You can wait a day and recover,” Thorne muttered, gripping Selara’s elbow as she struggled to stand.

“Where is she?” Kaelor’s voice burst into the sacred grove.

“No,” she murmured.

Thorne blocked Kaelor’s path. The prince hesitated. “If you try to get past me, you will break the treaty,” Thorne glared at him. “Through your blood or my own.”

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