Kushiel's Mercy

protected me from the power of a talisman wrought of my own aching desire.
    I didn’t know if it would protect her.
    “Mayhap,” I said, as cautious as Henri Voisin.
    “Tell me,” Sidonie demanded.
    I told her.
    Henri Voisin looked sickly fascinated by it all. I don’t know how much of it he believed.
    Enough to give us a chance.
    “I mean to try it,” Sidonie said with grim determination. “If it works, so much the better.
    Our stories are stronger together. If it fails . . .” She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “I’m the only one it will affect. I give you leave to overpower me and haul me back to Amílcar.
    At least it will give proof to our claims.”
    “You’re sure?” I asked.
    She nodded. “We have to try. My lord captain, will you hear my orders?”
    He gave her a dubious look. “I’ll hear them.”
    “I would have you keep our presence here quiet for the time. Bid your men to do the same. Find us a discreet escort to Turnone, then take your fleet to Amílcar,” Sidonie said in a steady tone. “With or without me, depending on how matters fall. There’s naught to be done at sea here. I would have Terre d’Ange honor her alliances. The presence of a D’Angeline fleet will hasten negotiations with a weakened Carthage.”
    It heartened him. “I believe your sister and uncle would agree.”
    “Good.” She looked at me. “Shall we attempt the charm?”
    I racked my wits, trying to remember the items the ollamh Aodhan had used when he wrought the charm of protection that warded me against all who sought to bind me. “I need salt. Salt, and rowan and birchwood.” I closed my eyes, grateful for Phèdre’s training, and recalled the scent of camphor. “And pennyroyal. Oh, and red thread, of course.”
    “Of course,” Henri Voisin echoed doubtfully.
    In the end, he had to return and put ashore to collect some of the items—and failed to find them at that. Salt, we had aboard the ship, and Sidonie picked red threads out of the Euskerri wedding dress that Bixenta had given her, braiding several lengths. Voisin found incense imbued with oil of pennyroyal in a small Temple of Azza, but rowan and birch were a lost cause. He returned with dried bundles of juniper and wild rosemary instead, claiming an old herb-wife in the marketplace insisted they held protective properties.
    “It’s worth a try,” I said.
    There was a stone firebox on the deck of the ship used for what little cooking was done; mostly we subsisted on sailor’s fare of hard biscuits and salt cod. I kindled a fire with the fragrant wood under Captain Deimos’ watchful eye and cast a handful of incense on it. I had Sidonie remove her shoes and stockings and stand barefooted on the deck while I poured a line of salt around her in a circle. Henri Voisin and his men watched the proceedings as though we were absolutely mad, for which I didn’t blame them; but Deimos and the Cytherans took the matter in stride. They served Ptolemy Solon.
    Kratos merely shrugged. “After what I’ve seen, I’ll believe most anything.”
    “I don’t recall the exact words of the invocation,” I said to Sidonie. “But I’m praying it doesn’t matter. When Firdha had to renew my bindings, her invocation wasn’t exactly the same as Aodhan’s. She said it was due to differences between the traditions of the Dalriada and the Cruithne. But they both worked.”
    “Do as you think best,” Sidonie said, her face pale.
    I knelt and bowed my head before I began. I prayed silently to Blessed Elua and his Companions that they would guide my hand this day. And I prayed to all the gods of Alba, great and small, that they would lend me their magic. I had honored them and done my duty as a Prince of Alba in joy and in sorrow, and Sidonie was the Cruarch’s eldest daughter. I prayed to Dorelei’s merciful shade to intercede with Alba’s gods on our behalf. I prayed they would listen. I held the solid weight of the ollamh ’s croonie-stone in my hand and prayed that it retained enough of Aodhan’s magic and learning to anchor my fumbling spell.
    I thought of Berlik bidding me do my duty with a humble heart, and I prayed to sea and stone and sky as the Maghuin Dhonn did. I prayed that there was some debt owed for the honorable death I’d granted him.
    I made my heart humble.
    I prayed without words for a miracle.
    And then I began.
    “The charm of Nerthus ward thee, the charm of Lug defend thee, the charm of Brigit protect thee, the charm of