Binding geis

And one of the things I’d discovered in the Irish myths, when I was studying Aífe and Cúchulainn, was that the ancient Celts had had ways of making oaths stick. They’d had ways of ensuring that a king acted kingly, that a great warrior never betrayed his principles, that deals made were always kept. They’d bound themselves and each other, and those who betrayed those bonds suffered great misfortune.

I stepped forward and held out my hand. Vaguely, I was aware that this whole thing had started with her on the other side and me refusing to take it.

“I promise to help you escape Coil, if you promise to never betray my trust again.”

“Done.” She reached out to grab my hand. “I prom — oh.”

She stopped halfway, looked down at my hand. Part of my costume had materialized, just the underlayer, so that smooth, skin-tight black cloth covered my hand, stretched up my arm, across my shoulders, and wrapped around my chest. With my hoodie on, it was practically invisible, but I wasn’t surprised that Lisa had noticed.

That was how Cúchulainn had died, after all. Through trickery after trickery, he’d been forced to break his oaths, and with each one he broke, he became weaker and weaker, until at last, he was too weak to avoid the blow that killed him.

“Oh,” she said again softly. “Oh, shit. You… You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”

I didn’t smile. I didn’t nod. I didn’t change my expression at all. There were only two ways this scenario could end — in one, we’d part ways and be enemies, and I would curse her with everything I was. In the other, we’d remain friends, and maybe one day, I could let go of the anger and the hatred that was still simmering in my gut, and we could recapture the feeling of those first few days.

An oath that neither of us could betray… A promise that neither of us could casually break…

“Do you promise?”

For what it was worth, Lisa barely hesitated. It was less than a second of thought and consideration, less than a second of doubt. Then, she reached out and grasped my gloved hand with hers.

“I promise.”

The geis snapped into action, shooting up from our joined hands like a crackle of electricity and winding its way around my heart and hers. From this point forward, neither of us could betray that oath. We were bound together, now, closer than lovers, by a vow more lasting and stronger than death do us part.

Anmain a n-anmain. Luige a n-luige. Immalle, sní téit co ar úag.

“Life for life. Oath for oath. Together, we go to our grave.”