“Do not fear. You and I are one,” the nekgya said. “Bound with your given blood. Bound with the words. We cannot harm one another.” “Bound to you?” I thought of the scars on my hand. Of all the blood I’d been forced to give over the years. Of the words—Nemea’s ritual prayer. A trickle of cold, complete horror ran down my body. “You’re Eusia.”
