“Pretty much,” Wekun concedes.
“Talk about not learning from your mistakes,” I mumble, shaking my head. “I mean, how can you convince yourself that you’re a superior species and then get hunted to almost extinction in not one...but two worlds?”
Wekun shrugs and picks another leaf off the weird looking tree he’s lying under and sucks on the stem. The trunk looks petrified, like it’s more crystal than bark, and the leaves remind me of green flowers; they’re like roses made out of leaves. Wekun keeps sucking on their stems, so I’m guessing they’re sweet, but grot berries have traumatized me, and I don’t trust anyone’s taste buds in this world.
Although maybe Wekun could be an exception, because it turns out he’s not exactly from this world. He’s not solely from the world I grew up in either, but travels back and forth as needed, doing what he can to protect what’s left of his people.
“The Sovereign of the Sentinels just changed, and I have a lot of hope that things will finally move in the right direction. She’s surrounded by good minds and hearts, and I have faith that she’ll do right by our people...or Vinna will kick her ass.”
“Vinna? Is that like the Ouphe version of karma or something?”
Wekun laughs. “You know, she just might be,” he tells me with a chuckle and amused smile on his face.
“So I’m a Sentinel?” I question as I put everything he’s told me together and continue to brush my hair.
“Part of one; the blood’s running through your veins, but so is that of the Gryphon’s. In my opinion, it makes you stronger. All the strongest Bond wielders and magic users I’ve seen are always a mix of Sentinel and something else. All of your Sept bring new things to the table, it’s quite exciting,” he tells me, his head resting on the crook of his arm as he stares thoughtfully up at the overcast sky above us.
“My Sept?” I question as a particularly gnarly tangle meets the teeth of my comb, forcing me to get all aggressive and show it who’s boss. The water of the hot springs agitates against me as I get all confrontational with my hair. At least it’s white again, but I can’t get it as clean as I’d like it until I deal with the uninvited dreads I started to form thanks to my recent adventures.
Pigeon impatiently taps her talons inside of me as she waits for her turn to play in the water. I ignore her, no intention of rushing the first bath I’ve had since the night Loa slit my throat.
“Yes, all Bond possessors have a Sept. It’s like your family, or casters in our world call it a coven. With Bond users, you can call on each other’s abilities and magic when a Sept is complete. It makes you stronger and more protected.”
I raise my hands in victory when the nest of hair finally submits. One down, who the fuck knows how many left to go. I’m in a hot spring, learning all about magic and the worlds and how I fit into all of it, and yet the thing I seem to be most excited about is getting clean.
Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve been oh shit deep in this world and all of its crazy for so long that some hot guy—who can pop in and out of existence—telling me I’m some magical being from a dying race just isn’t the surprising revelation it would have been months ago.
Technically, Zeph’s been hating on me for being exactly that from the get-go. It’s not like I didn’t know about casters and shifters and other things that go bump in the night before. Granted, I haven’t heard of the Ouphe or Sentinels, but given that they’re in hiding, that makes sense.
“So where’s your Sept? Do they pop in and out, fixing things like you do?”
Wekun stills for just a fraction of a second before continuing to casually suck on the stem of his leaf flower, but I catch the reaction.
“They’re dead. I’m the last of my Sept,” he tells me evenly, like it’s a simple fact, but I catch the hint of sorrow in the word last.
“I’m sorry,” I offer.
He smiles sadly but doesn’t offer any more information. I don’t feel right about prying, and I turn away to give him the moment I sense he’s in need of.
“So my Sept will be other Bond magic holders like me, right? Am I supposed to go looking for them? Are they in this world? How will I know who they are?” I start again after a minute.
“When your Sept is complete, the Sept rune you all have will activate and pull you together.”
Concern and sadness crawls through me, and I sink down into the water a little more. “But I don’t have runes anymore, Wekun, so how is that going to work?” My voice sounds small, and I try to shove away the memories that flood me of my dad taking the marks on my skin and the pain.
In truth, I have Treno’s runes, but I don’t get the impression his marks are the Sept rune that Wekun is talking about. Unless Treno has Bond magic. He’s never told me what he can do and how, so I have no idea.
“I’m hoping I can fix that,” he tells me, and I pause and turn back to him. He takes in the shocked look on my face and offers me a warm smile. “Awlon occluded your core somehow, but the purple magic that was crawling all over your skin? That was your Sentinel magic, and it showing up like that proves that it’s not dead, just hindered. I’m hoping I can undo
