Those who weren’t immediately enamored with Sadie desired a few moments of Micah’s time, inquiring about matters of silver politics that I hadn’t even been aware of. Apparently, the Whispering Dell was one of the richest communities in the Otherworld, due in no small part to Micah’s management of the land and its resources. I’d known that Micah was wealthy, but I’d never appreciated just how wealthy, or that Micah was what we in the Mundane world would call a shrewd businessman. While Micah talked shop, and Sadie talked books, I stood there with a smile on my face and tried to stay out of the way.
After an endless barrage of politics and well-wishers, and my cheeks aching from holding on to my false smile, an excited murmur rolled across the hall. Naturally, all eyes turned toward the queen. Upon the dais, Oriana rose from her throne, her golden breastplate melting away. With a flick of her wrists, her golden nails elongated and became ten wickedly sharp blades. Another flick, and she slashed herself above her heart. Sadie gasped and grabbed my hand while I tried to retain enough composure for both of us.
“What’s going on?” I asked Micah.
“It is time to pledge ourselves to our queen,” he replied, loosening his shirt to expose his chest. I watched those closest to Oriana and discerned what sort of a pledge this was. Each supplicant approached the queen, also with a bared breast, and those golden nails slashed above the supplicant’s heart. Oriana touched her own breast, then her subject’s, thereby creating a blood bond with her people. As far as Otherworldly ceremonies went, this was a piece of cake.
“I can’t do it,” Sadie said.
“It’ll only be a minute,” I soothed. “No one’s going to see you.”
“It’s not that,” she said, taking a step backward. “The blood…all that blood.”
“Sadie.” She looked at me, her brown eyes full of irrational fear. “You must. You’re the Inheritor.”
“I won’t,” she whispered, though it was still loud enough for all those nearby to hear.
“What’s the matter?” growled Old Stoney. He had fully opened his robe, showing off his gigantic stone member as it knocked against his thigh. “Afraid we won’t keep our hands to ourselves?”
“Speak to my consort, or her sister, in such a way again,” Micah said, putting himself between the moronic boulder and us, “and I shall take issue.” While Old Stoney was still too incensed to reply, Micah turned to Sadie and me.
“Sadie, stand between Sara and me,” he instructed. “We shall pledge our queen as one.”
Sadie insisted that she couldn’t do it, but Micah was unrelenting and practically dragged her through the throng of Elementals. The crowd parted for the three of us, murmuring of the implications of the Silver Lord and Metal Inheritor approaching the queen together. We were doing well, walking with our heads held high and not noticeably dragging Sadie, until we stood at the foot of the dais. At the sight of Oriana’s naked blood-smeared breasts, Sadie squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her face against Micah’s shoulder. Only his arm about her waist kept her from running. Micah and I shared a look, then we locked hands behind Sadie’s back and hauled her up the steps.
“This…this child, she is the Inheritor of Metal?” Oriana inquired, taking in the sight of the three of us as we knelt before her. Sadie was curled against Micah’s side, protecting her breast as if Oriana sought her heart, not a few drops of blood.
“Forgive her, my queen,” Micah murmured. “She is young yet, new to our world and not accustomed to our ways. My consort and I will pledge ourselves now, of course.”
At that, I lowered my bodice and allowed Oriana to cut me between my breasts, much as Oriana had done to herself. She performed the movements of creating the blood bond like an automaton, first to me, and then to Micah, devoid of all emotion or comprehension. Where was the vibrant if unstable woman I’d lunched with? Where was the inappropriate touching, the insane commentary? I ventured a glance directly at her eyes and saw that they were clouded, lacking their typical warm glow.
Had someone drugged her? Before I could alert Micah to my suspicions, Oriana cast a wary glance at the throngs waiting to bleed for her and visibly swallowed. She wasn’t drugged, far from it. She was terrified.
My righteous indignation flowed away, replaced by no small amount of pity. “Perhaps, if it so pleases you, my sister may pledge herself to you once she is recovered?” I ventured. Stiffly, Oriana turned to regard me, her head cocked to the side in one of her odd, birdlike mannerisms.