Then go to Berne and do the same. Then Dolphys, Ebba, Joran, and Leok, until every line has been traced.
“When you have traced the star with your blood, just like I’ve shown you, press the rune to your brow, where the star is drawn at coronations or at a child’s birth, and ask the Star of Saylok to show you one of her children or a place within her shores.”
“I could have seen you . . . all this time?” she gasped.
“Mayhaps . . . but I was not in Saylok, love. The star only works in Saylok. Every rune has its limits, and the fates decide whether to answer the summons.”
She shook her head in disbelief, and he wrapped her hand in his, covering the scar burned there. He hated it as much as she; he felt scalded each time his fingers brushed it.
“You know the runes. Did you ever try to see me?” she asked quietly.
“Seeker runes do not give a man eyes. I have been taught to make and unlock the runes, but knowledge is not always enough. I did try to see you. I even begged Arwin to reassure me.”
“And did he?”
“Somewhat. His mind was going, and he was sick. He was never the same after Master Ivo turned me away. He lost his faith.”
“Master Ivo taught me the rune of the blind god. Left to right, top to bottom. I carved it in my hand, hoping I could summon you.”
“It is not that kind of rune.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I pressed it to my eyes . . . the way I’d done with the seeker runes, and I said your name. It did not give me sight. It took my sight. I was blind until the bleeding stopped.”
“When was this?” he gasped.
“Months after you left, after the tournament. Master Ivo showed me how the runes of Hod and Baldr were the same.”
“He sought to make you understand why . . . I am the enemy.”
She exhaled heavily, but she did not argue.
“You lost your sight,” he breathed, realization dawning.
“I was terrified. I bound my hand and sat in the sanctum for hours, scared the king would send for me, terrified that my sisters—or Ivo—would find me, and afraid I’d lost my eyes in my foolishness.”
“But your sight came back.”
“Yes. I sang the song, and as the rune healed, my sight returned. Had I not sung the song . . . it might have taken days instead of hours. Had I done it sooner, I would have saved myself a great deal of fear.”
“That was the day I saw,” he said, understanding washing over him, an answer to a mystery that had baffled him for years.
“You saw?”
“For two hours, around that same time frame that you’ve just described, I could see.”
“I gave you my eyes?” she said, flabbergasted.
He could not stop the bubble of incredulous laughter that escaped his throat.
“The rune of the blind god does not seek sight or take sight. It gives sight to the blind,” he explained, awestruck. “It is not a seeker rune . . . it is a sacrificial rune. You carved it into your hand and then . . . said my name?”
“Yes. And I was immediately blind.”
“You gave me sight that day, Ghisla. For two blessed hours, I saw the sky and the hillside. I saw Arwin and the runes. I saw my reflection in the glass. My hands and skin. My . . . life. And I didn’t know why. It was a gift amid a very bleak time. I was . . . devastated by your absence. And then, out of nowhere, the blind god gave me a respite from the darkness. You gave me a respite. I did not let myself mourn when it was gone, though I hoped it would return someday. You gave me a thousand pictures that day, Ghisla, and I didn’t even know it was you.”
Banruud was irritable, demanding comfort from her presence as well as her voice, while he stewed over whether he could bring her with him to Berne. He abandoned the idea only after Hod quietly reminded him that it would not be safe for “the Songr.”
“If you value Liis of Leok, Majesty, it would not be wise to put her anywhere near the North King. He will not hesitate to take what he believes is his.”
The king dismissed Hod with a surly “Get out,” but he did not persist with his plans. She would stay on the