I don’t want to talk about what he did to me or how if the Blood King showed up right now, I’d be throwing myself at his feet, begging him to bite me. I still feel his teeth sinking into my skin—arms, breasts, thighs. Every moment was sinful, but delicious.
“Alwar? If the Blood King attacks and you lose control of the wall—”
“That will not happen.”
“Okay, but just imagine Benicio has the numbers and you can’t protect the wall any longer. Wouldn’t that void your vow to not cross over?”
“Why do you ask such a ridiculous question?”
“Because, I guess, I’d rather you retreat and live to fight another day.”
He frowns. “You mean I should run.”
I nod.
His face turns a pissy red. “You think I would be happy living as a tiny man in your tiny pathetic world, filled with pathetic tiny people who argue and bicker over every tiny thing?” He shakes his head with disdain. “You reward weakness and politeness. You want everything to be fair.”
“Why is that a bad thing?” And why did my question trigger him? I was trying to say I think he should have a plan B. At least if he stays alive, he could regroup.
Alwar lowers his head closer to mine, locking eyes with me. “Fairness is unnatural,” he growls.
“Then why did everyone agree to this Proxy Vow thing? Why not just keep fighting with each other, army to army, kingdom against kingdom?” Uhrn told me they were at constant war until the Proxy Vow happened.
“That is different. That was about survival.” He straightens his back and scoffs. “You cannot have your enemies kill off all the good meat, waging endless wars. The Proxy Vow ensures death has meaning—killing for food only. Killing in self-defense is permitted, too, though we usually eat our fallen enemies.”
I should have known he’d say that. This entire place is all about eating meat, obeying vows, and avoiding No Ones.
“So what’s going to happen to Gabrio?” He crossed over.
“He will soon be taken by the No Ones.”
“But he’s in my world. I thought you said creatures from this world can’t cross over.”
“I said nothing living can cross over. The No Ones are not alive. Also, they do not need the bridge. Physical barriers are useless.”
“Are they ghosts?”
“Something like that,” he replies.
A cold chill rolls through me. “Are there No Ones running around my world right now?”
“They go where they like.”
That’s a yes.
I imagine those things flying through Grandma Rain’s house. My mind jumps to the dust devil that swirled around me in the foyer. Was that a No One passing through?
“Do the No Ones travel to my world for any other reason than looking for vow breakers?”
“No.”
So then why was that thing… I gasp. I broke a vow.
I look up at Alwar. “Am I subject to your world’s rules?”
“Yes and no. You are Norfolk. You are bound to my world because you are bound to the War People. If you broke the vow to proxy for me, for example, you would be taken by the No Ones. When you deal with those of your world, the rules do not apply.”
“Thank God.” Relieved, I exhale sharply. “I promised Grandma that I’d read her journals.”
“Did you read them?” He frowns with concern.
I shake my head no. “I couldn’t bring myself to do it. And then the journals burned up in my house. Why?”
“Because a vow between Norfolks is binding. You got lucky. Your vow was voided.”
Or someone saved me. The realization that I made a binding vow, one that could have gotten me killed, is hard to swallow. Could Bard have burned down my house? He was the only other person around.
“So my promise was written on Benicio’s body.” I can’t believe it. More messed up is that Grandma never told me I could die if I broke a simple promise.
“As I said, you are Norfolk. So was Rain. If you made a vow to her, it was written.”
I try to think of all the times I lied to Grandma, because I know I did. Growing up with so many harsh rules wasn’t easy. But Grandma raised me with a strict moral code when it came to promises: “Never make a promise to me you cannot keep. You say no. You walk away. You argue. But never make an empty promise.”
Is this why?
I say out loud to myself, “She never asked me to promise her anything except for reading those journals.” That’s why it was such a big deal. But the moment I brought those journals into my house, I knew in my heart I was breaking my word. I planned to put the journals away in a box and never look at them again. Bard must’ve been worried that I wasn’t going to keep my promise. He did it to protect me.