“Then make the miracle,” he said. “Teach me the words. Give me the sacrifices. Tell me how to make this jar a coffin.”
The seer’s gaze softened ... not with pity but with a cold respect. “You think binding a spirit to a vessel is permission?” she asked. “It is a bargain where both sides bleed. You will offer the jar, the salt, the iron, but you will also offer something of equal weight: your dignity, your bloodline, your willingness to be unmade if the jar breaks. You must sign it with something you will not take back.”
Zach’s laugh was a low sound. “I’ll sign it with my heart if I have to.”
---
Back at the hall, the ritual was moving toward its apex. Mira...Diva in her skin...raised her arms as the priests intoned, and the whole assembly fell into a trance of obedience.
The crown fit
