The Veiled One

Chapter Three: In which I tie the knot

Endor is waiting inside the door for me and towels me dry with a spare sheet. I pull on my nightshirt and give him free reign to carry out the rest of the ritual.

He seats me in one of our kitchen chairs and tips my head back, lining my chin with lather from the goats' milk soap. Then he takes the razor blade and scrapes my chin until it is smooth, smoother than I have ever taken the effort to make it. He mumbles a prayer to Ailen and then sets the razor blade down.

Next Endor takes the hairbrush, which belonged to our mother long ago. He stands behind me and brushes out my hair with it, singing the traditional chants for marriage. They are in the Old Tongue, the same one our grandmother used to use when she told us stories, the language Endor and I grew up speaking at home and sometimes use for comfort. They beseech Ailen for love, for happiness, for success, for children. I feel myself blush at the last one.

Once Endor has finished working through my hair, he takes the white ribbon and ties it around my hair, securing it in a tail. The ribbon was our mother's too. Finally, he hangs the chain around my neck, the stone in the middle cold to the touch, almost frostily so.

"Why did you pick this one?" I demand, holding up the chain and looking at it. It was our father's prayer chain. Everyone has one—even me, though mine rests at the bottom of the Dunkill River by now. There are six stones to represent the Divine Six: garnet for Agramina, topaz for Agor, pearl for Ailen, opal for Fulmenarius, diamond for Mor, and obsidian for Lisentia. Parents gift their child with a stone at birth according to a descrying done by the priests at the child's naming ceremony. My stone had been an opal; the priests had foreseen my stormy nature. Endor's is a pearl, as was our mother's. Some families have a specific god to whom they pray; they often take that stone for each member's prayer chain. Others change their chain's stone as they grow older.

"Because your future is uncertain. And I thought..." Here Endor trails off, biting his lip. I place a hand on his shoulder gently and look at him, begging him to understand.

"What did you think?" I ask him.

"I thought that you might need a miracle worthy of Lisentia."

I smile sadly as Endor stares out our lone window out at the creek.

"What if you don't come back?" he whispers, this time close to tears. I stand and hold him against my chest, crushing his small body with mine.

"I will come back, Endor. Have I ever broken a promise to you?"

Endor shrugs, but he shakes his head nevertheless. "Not when it ever mattered."

This response bothers me, but I can't say how. So I remain silent instead, squeezing him as a reply.

"Let's stay up all night," I offer. "We'll tell stories and laugh, and when dawn comes, you can crawl into bed and wait until I come back tomorrow night."

Endor nods, but he sniffles, and then he is finally crying. I rock him in my arms, murmuring soothing things to him as he wipes his eyes against my rough tunic.

"Do you want me to say your prayers with you?" I ask. He nods, the tears still dripping down his cheeks. Endor pulls his prayer chain from beneath his shirt and presses the pearl to his lips, murmuring prayers to the Arcana over and over. Sometimes he beseeches Ailen for a successful marriage. Other times he begs Mor not to take me to the underworld. But always, always, he prays to Agramina, telling her to let me alone. I mumble alongside him, even though I know that what happens will rest on my shoulders and mine alone.

***

Three days later, Alasdair's body is borne back to the house. As soon as he catches sight of his son's broken body, Henri vows, "The Veiled One must die."