pieces don’t tell the whole story. I hear Master Ivo’s dilemma. I hear Dagmar’s determination to protect Bayr, and Ghost’s loyalty to Alba. I hear my sisters’ worries and the keepers’ fear.”
“And their troubles become yours.”
“Yes. Each piece of knowledge is like an invisible sliver in my hand or a stone in my shoe—something I feel but can do nothing about.”
“I know,” Hod said, taking her hand. “I am sorry.”
“No one knows how to end the scourge . . . or if it can even be ended. Everyone is plotting and maneuvering and keeping secrets. But not out of hate, out of love.” She sighed. “Everyone but Banruud. There is no love in him.”
“What do you see when you hold the king’s hand?” he murmured, tracing the rune on her palm.
“His thoughts are twisted and blurred, like listening to someone through water. Sometimes a thought will be perfectly clear—his irritation, his desire, his rage—but when he’s riddled with headaches and bad dreams, his thoughts are muddled and tangled, and I try my best to ignore them. Most of the time, I don’t touch him at all. My songs are usually sufficient.” King Banruud only touched her when his pain was intolerable, and he was afraid she would depart too soon. Then he kept his hand wrapped around hers, keeping her at his side until sleep swept him away.
“I do not wish to speak of the king,” she murmured. “You must tell me how you fared in the competition.”
“I won the day of competition,” he said. “Keeper Dagmar was among the spectators. He spoke to me afterward. He was very kind.”
“You won the day?” she gasped. “You must tell me everything.”
“The chieftain from Berne and a warrior from Dolphys—Daniel—accused me of cheating . . . though neither could explain how so. Daniel said he didn’t think I was truly blind.” He laughed. “I reminded him that everyone else could see. It would hardly be cheating if I could see too.”
“Why didn’t they believe you? One has only to look at your eyes to know.”
“I think it is because I do see . . . in my own way. I use my ears the way everyone else uses their eyes.”
“How?”
“It is actually quite simple. Every heart sounds different. And every heartbeat is distinct.”
“But . . . how do you remember which heart belongs to whom?”
“I suppose it’s like recognizing a face. We all have two eyes, two ears, a mouth, a nose, yet none of us look exactly alike. Or so I’m told.” He grinned. “It is the same with our hearts. It is not strange to remember a face, is it?”
“No. I guess not,” she marveled.
“Dred of Dolphys wanted to know how I accomplished it as well. When I explained I could hear his heartbeat, he spent the hour after the competition ended demanding I shoot at him.”
“And did you?”
“Yes. I hit his shield every time. He was quite fearless. I imagine Bayr is much like him. I had hoped the Temple Boy would be here. Though I can understand why he is not.”
In the soil beside him, Hod drew the blind god’s rune: the half circles, back to back, and the arrow that pierced them through. Melancholy had settled on him once again, and she rushed to distract him.
“But a target does not have a heartbeat.”
“No. But if Arwin stands beside the target—two feet to the right—I can use his heartbeat to gauge my shot. I would not be able to do it otherwise.”
“Is he not afraid he will be skewered?”
“When I was young I would warn him before I released the arrow, and he would lift his shield. Now he only worries about the other archers on the course.”
“The king was also in attendance,” he said softly. “His heart is easy to pick out. I thought about killing him. Saylok would be better off. You would be better off.”
He heard the horror in her silence.
“I have upset you,” he said.
“You would be slain. Immediately.”
“Yes.”
“I can endure the king. I cannot endure a world without you in it.”
He sighed heavily, and she searched his face, anxious.
“Hod . . . Tell me you are not serious,” she whispered. “Surely you jest?”
“I have thought of little else since last night. I am scared for you, Ghisla. Mayhaps it is my calling to kill Banruud . . . Arwin is convinced I have one.”
She gripped his hand and forced it back to the rune he’d just made in the dirt. “If this is