We’ve just taken an oath. I’ve never taken an oath before. Baz could still break it—he could still turn on me—but his hand would cramp up, and he’d lose his voice for a few weeks. Maybe that’s part of his plan. We’re both staring at our joined hands. I can still feel his magic. “We can talk about this after our lessons,” Baz says. “Back here.” His grip loosens, and I yank my hand back. “Fine.”
