Queen Shira stood regally, completely unperturbed by the fact that her daughter and heir to the throne had offered her life to a stranger. She walked around the table to where Avoca knelt, ready for a swift end to her existence.

“Stand,” the Queen said. Her voice was firm but comforting.

Avoca’s chest rose and fell heavily, and then she stood to face her mother. A signal passed between them as they stared at each other. Then, Queen Shira nodded softly. A smile played on Avoca’s features for a second and then was immediately wiped away. She doesn’t actually expect me to kill her, does she?

The Queen faced the frantic crowd and raised her hand, calling for silence. It took longer than before as people were reluctant to stop discussing Avoca’s offering.

“Please return to the Festival celebrations and begin to distribute gifts among yourselves.”

Complaints rose from the crowd, but the Queen stopped them with a sharp look in their direction.

“No harm will come to Princess Avoca. In fact, you are disrespecting her gift to our visitor and the Creator herself by speaking out against it.”

That shut everyone up.

Though it didn’t lessen Ceis’f’s grip on Cyrene. He held her in place the entire time as the rest of the Leif population filed out of the room to go outside.

“Ceis’f, release our visitor,” Queen Shira ordered.

“She’s going to kill Avoca,” Ceis’f protested.

“You are insulting our guest.”

Ceis’f grumbled under his breath and then roughly released Cyrene. She staggered a few feet forward and then righted herself.

“What is going on?” Cyrene asked. “Why is Avoca offering herself to me?”

“You saved my life; thus, my life is forfeit,” she whispered. She turned to face Ceis’f. “Surely, you can understand. My greatest shame—”

“Ava, I didn’t mean…this,” he said.

Cyrene put herself between Avoca and Ceis’f and shook her head. “I don’t want your life, Avoca. There has been too much death already.”

“You are rejecting my gift?” Avoca gasped.

“What good will your death bring?” Cyrene asked before anyone else could respond. “You are a crown princess. It would be a waste. I did not risk myself to save you so you could throw your life away so casually.”

Queen Shira stepped forward then. “I must agree with the Doma on this.”

Ceis’f breathed a sigh of relief at the words.

“Avoca, are you quite set on your gift to the Doma?” Queen Shira asked.

“Yes,” she responded fiercely.

“No!” Ceis’f cried.

The Queen fixed him with her icy stare. “Do not believe that I cannot dismiss you, Ceis’f.”

He ground his teeth but remained silent.

“Since you are set on your gift, might I make another suggestion?”

Avoca nodded her agreement.

“I have been around for a very long time. My mother and two older sisters were killed in the War of the Light nearly two thousand years ago. I was but a baby at the time. So much of their knowledge was lost when we did not win the war, but much has been handed down that I still have access to. At that time, we had more freedom between Leif and Doma. Many of us even chose to live among them, and they, among us.

“Magic has a certain consistency in the universe that draws in more of the same. Like calls to like. Magic calls to magic. And, at the time, Doma and Leif could be bound to one another for alliance, love, and even sometimes blood debt. Your magic would tie you to one another—weld it, increase it, intensify it. And, depending on the circumstances, the two people bound could not break the bond unless the bond had been satisfied. In your case, Avoca, until your debt has been repaid.”

Cyrene shook her head. “No.”

“Absolutely not.” Ceis’f finally seemed to agree with her on something.

“It’s perfect,” Avoca said.

“It’s hardly perfect! It means you’re bound to me. I don’t want to be tied to anyone. I’m my own person. I have my own life. And I have things I have to do. This is all well and good that you want to offer yourself up to me, but did you ever think I might not want that at all? You all are practically holding me hostage while my friends are in danger. Clearly, no one else sees the need for haste besides me!”

“I understand your need for haste,” the Queen stated. “I understand a great deal more than that.”

“Don’t you see? I can help,” Avoca said to Cyrene and then addressed her mother. “If my life belongs with her, then I would like to request to leave Eldora to go with her to help her friends.”

“What?” Cyrene and Ceis’f said at the same time.

Avoca turned back to Cyrene with determination in her gaze.

“You do not know our customs, Doma. All I have is honor, and that was taken from me when I did not die a warrior’s death. At first, I was angry with you for stealing away my right to die then and there. I thought it would be better if I forfeited my life to you, but now, I see what I did not consider before. My mother spoke of our part in the Circadian Prophecy. Why would the Doma appear to me in our very woods and save my life? There must be a reason. This is that reason.”

Queen Shira smiled. “You believe this is how we fit into the Prophecy?”

“How could it be otherwise? It is right before our eyes.”

“No one really knows how prophecies work,” Ceis’f said. “You’re grasping at thin air.”

Avoca ignored him. “This is my choice. Whether we complete the official ceremony or not, I am bound to you. Without fulfilling my duty to you, I cannot properly accept my role in our society.”

Avoca spoke with such conviction that Cyrene was no longer surprised that she had been groomed as a princess. No matter how backward their society was, it was clear that this really mattered to her.

Cyrene swallowed. “What does the ceremony entail exactly?”

“Come with me,” the Queen said.

Ceis’f grasped Avoca’s arm. “You can’t actually mean to do this.”

“I mean for you not to interfere.” She withdrew from his grasp.

Queen Shira brought them into a giant domed library that made Cyrene smile with fond memories of Byern and Albion. It sent a pang through her chest as she thought about her best friend, Rhea, who had insisted on staying behind.

The Queen removed a book from a shelf and shuffled through the pages. “Here it is. Just as I thought, the magic is particular and requires three parts—acceptance of the ritual, a test of loyalty to check for compatibility, and an elemental binding.”

“A test of loyalty?” Cyrene asked. Why does that sound so familiar?

“Yes. Not every person can be bound. In fact, even before the War of the Light, few did so.”

“Why?” Avoca asked.

“Only magical users can be officially bound, and it is even rarer for people between races to be bound, for our magic differs slightly. Leif magic relies solely on the elements. We draw from things around us to increase our powers. Doma magic is able to do this as well, but there is always a component inherent to the user. You produce magic from within as well as draw from the outside world, which is why you need more training. But, to answer your question, some people feared sharing their powers and learning new abilities. They believed that it could weaken them.”

“You mean, it could weaken your own daughter?” Ceis’f growled.

“It makes you weak in that you are loyal to someone other than yourself, Ceis’f. It takes a certain kind of person to share yourself and your magic with another. I, myself, do not think that is weakness but strength. Now, are you willing to try to see if you are compatible?”

“I am,” Avoca said immediately.

Cyrene mulled over the situation. Avoca was her best bet of getting out of here. As far as Cyrene saw it though, her gift had already been paid. Cyrene had saved Avoca from the Indres, but someone had had to bring her back to Eldora to be healed. Cyrene could have easily died out there, alone in the woods.

Just that thought alone dredged up feelings of gratitude and loyalty to Avoca. And, while the thought of sharing her powers terrified her, it also excited her. She didn’t feel the same fears that the Queen had discussed. She wasn’t afraid to weaken herself. Having someone to guide her, to share her frustrations, to maybe even tap into the floodgates would be a comfort.

“What happens if we’re not compatible?” Cyrene asked finally.

“The loyalty portion can effect people in different ways. Some have felt nothing, some have felt a lingering feeling of attachment to the person, and some have died.”

Cyrene sucked in a breath.

“Think on it. I am going to mix the ingredients required in the instructions, and then I will need your answer.”

The Queen stepped out of the library, leaving the three of them alone. Cyrene paced as she thought about how she had gotten herself into this mess. Avoca and Ceis’f argued quietly across the room. Ceis’f was likely trying to talk Avoca out of this foolishness.

The thing was, if Avoca wanted to follow her around on her mission, she could do that, and there wasn’t much Cyrene could do to stop her. She couldn’t even touch her powers. She liked to believe that she was a good judge of character and that she followed her gut when it told her to believe in people. Ahlvie had seemed like a dirty, drunk scoundrel, but she had put her faith in him when no one else would. And he had helped her, blind of her reasons. This had the same nagging tug.

She should trust Avoca.

She should be loyal to these people.

She should be bound.

“I’ll do it,” Cyrene said.

Avoca nodded in satisfaction, but Ceis’f seethed next to her.

“Neither of you has any idea what you’re getting into. It’s reckless. Avoca. Will you not see reason? You are risking your life and the safety of all Leifs by abandoning us to run away with it.”

“I’ve had about enough of you,” Cyrene cried. “You were out there yesterday. You saw the Indres. I saved your life, too. At best, you would have run away as a coward. At worst, you would be dead. If you had any honor, you would allow the Princess to make decisions for herself. Certainly, she is capable of doing something without you breathing down her neck.”

“You are mistaken,” he growled. “I have no honor. Your kind robbed me of it.”

“Ceis’f,” Avoca whispered. She placed her hand on his arm. “That is a tale for another day.”

“I will not idly sit by and watch you throw your life away,” he said, wrenching his arm free and storming toward the door.

The Queen returned at that moment. She raised a questioning eye at Ceis’f as he hurried past her but did not object when he left the room. “Have we come to a decision?”

“Let’s do it,” Cyrene said.

Cyrene and Avoca each took a glass that Queen Shira had handed to them. Cyrene had a sense of déjà vu settle over her, but she couldn’t place it exactly. She glanced over at Avoca, who seemed entirely resolute about her decision.

“Please grasp arms.” The Queen clutched the book in her hand and faced the girls.

They looked at each other. Cyrene swallowed back her fear. She stretched out her right hand, and they locked forearms in a tight embrace.

The Queen began to read directly from the book. “The Bound ceremony is a sacred act, set up to strengthen and combine the magical properties from the originators. Three qualities above all link you together—loyalty, trust, and acceptance.”

Cyrene gasped and felt a tingle shoot up her arm. Avoca seemed to have felt the same thing.

As disconcerting as the strange feeling in her arm was, it was stranger still to realize that she had heard these words before at her Ring of Gardens ceremony back in Byern. The Byern royalty had stood before her and made her drink a vial. Then, she had seen a series of possibilities for her life—Third Class, leaving the man she loved, giving up her baby, and bowing to Kael Dremylon as king. She had chosen to put her country above all else in every instance, and thus passed the test. But how could that be similar to this if magic did not exist there?

“The circumstances of your binding will test for loyalty, trust, and acceptance between the hosts. Avoca and Cyrene, do you wish to be tested for the Bound ceremony?”

Both girls nodded and squeaked out, “Yes.”

The tingle in her arm had broken out into a dull throb.

“Know that the trials might be difficult, and once you start, there is no going back,” Queen Shira said gravely.

Cyrene’s powers seemed to have awakened for the first time when she wasn’t in mortal danger…or perhaps she was.

“Do you accept the circumstances?”

“Yes,” they whispered.

“Then, you may begin.”

Cyrene stared down at her glass and then up at Avoca. Finally, an ounce of fear crept up into Avoca’s features that mirrored Cyrene’s trepidation.

As they lifted the glasses to their lips, a tremor shot up to their shoulders, threatening to pull them apart. Cyrene didn’t know if it was a sign that they should stop. Their blue eyes met across the distance. For a second, it felt like she had known Avoca all her life. Mutual understanding crashed between them, and then they tilted the glasses all the way back and downed the drink.

As soon as the potion settled in Cyrene’s stomach, fire lashed out at her from the inside out. She thought she might vomit up the contents just to rid herself of the terrible pain wrenching through her.

The girls collapsed to the ground at the same time.

Queen Shira reached out for them, but she could do nothing at this point. They were in it, no matter what happened.

Tears streamed down Cyrene’s face. It felt like her skin was melting off, her bones were turning to molten lava, and her head was going to explode. Just when she thought she couldn’t hold on any longer, numbness set in, and she blacked out.