breathed. “I can’t.”
“You must. He will know what to do.”
“I can’t,” Dagmar insisted again, and Ghost said nothing, her hand still stroking his head.
Dagmar straightened, releasing her so he could look down into her face, and his agony was on full display to Ghisla. To move would expose her to view, so she lay, helplessly listening, painfully witnessing all.
“If Ivo knows, he will be forced to act,” Dagmar said, his voice harsh with the truth. “As Highest Keeper he will do—he must do—whatever is necessary to destroy the power of Desdemona’s rune.” Dagmar paused briefly and then choked out, “I cannot take that risk.”
“But . . . is that not . . . what you want?” Ghost asked.
“What if Bayr is the only one who can break the curse?” Dagmar cried.
“I don’t understand,” Ghost said. “What are you telling me?”
Dagmar began to weep again, his sobs the scrape of metal on metal. It was the worst sound Ghisla had ever heard, and she buried her face in her arms, but she had to know. What curse?
“What do you mean, Dagmar?” Ghost asked.
“Bayr’s birth marked the beginning of the drought.” Dagmar spoke as though he impaled himself on each word. “What if his death marks the end?”
Ghisla did not rise and go back to the temple through the long, dark tunnel when Dagmar and Ghost left. She was too depleted. Too frightened. And too numb.
She needed Hod. She had to tell someone. The blood on her hand was dry and her throat even drier. She jabbed at her finger and watched the droplet form and trickle down her finger and pool at its base. She smeared the blood through the lines of the rune, trying to sing. It was no more than a whisper, but Hod was there, waiting, as she finished the simple verse. And she told him everything. She told him about Dred taking Bayr to Dolphys. She told him about Ghost’s silence, Dagmar’s secrets, and Ivo’s ignorance. And she told him Dagmar’s dilemma.
“Dagmar has not told Ivo about the runes. He is afraid if Ivo knows, he will be forced to act. He is afraid the end of the scourge will only come with Bayr’s death.”
“He’s afraid the Highest Keeper will try to kill Bayr if he knows about the runes?” Hod asked.
“Would you? Would Arwin? If you thought it would end the drought?”
He was silent for a moment, considering. He did not answer directly.
“You must tell Master Ivo.”
“I can’t.”
“You must. Tell him what you heard. Tell him about Desdemona’s curse, about her rune. Exactly what Dagmar said. He will know what to do.”
“But what about Bayr? What if Dagmar is right?” she moaned.
“Bayr is in Dolphys. Bayr is safe . . . for now. But Saylok is not. The temple is not, and you are not.”
“But . . . would you do it, Hod? If it would break the curse, would you kill Bayr?” She needed to know.
Hod sighed, the sound vibrating in her thoughts like wind in the eaves.
“I don’t know.”
“If it would break the curse . . . would you kill me?” she asked.
“What are you talking about, Ghisla?”
Mayhaps it was her fatigue. Mayhaps it was her fear, but after this day, honesty was all she had left, and so she gave it to him. “I love you, Hod. You are my dearest friend. My only friend. And I would do anything to keep you. Do you know that? I would trade all of Saylok for you.”
He was silent for a moment, as though she’d shocked him, but when he finally spoke, he sounded almost reverent.
“I would trade all of Saylok for you too, my little Songr.”
“That is how Dagmar feels about Bayr.”
“Yes . . . I imagine it is.”
“I want to go home, Hod.”
“You sound so tired.”
“I want to go home,” she said again, urgent, and he understood, the way he always seemed to.
“You want to go to Tonlis.”
“Yes. But there is no Tonlis.”
“Of course there is.”
“It was burned to the ground. Every cottage, every field. Every man, woman, and child. Everyone but me.”
Hod gasped. “Everyone?”
“I saw no one else. I saw only death. Families dead in their homes. In their fields. The bodies were piled, and everything was set on fire. The dead, the animals, the homes, the fields.”
“Oh, Ghisla.”
“They were trying to stop the disease. I don’t know why they let me live. Mayhaps because they thought I would die. But I didn’t die. I didn’t die. I just wanted to. Now