Blood Brothers

“So, we are brothers now?” Talan asked as he stared at the cut on his palm. The knife they had taken from Finn’s father’s desk was so sharp that he barely felt it slice through his skin. Finn wrapped his matching cut with a kerchief and smiled broadly.

At first, Talan wasn’t sure whether Finn wanted to be his friend because he was the only other boy the same age as him, or if he just felt bad for the strange, orphan child who was dumped into his life. But whatever his original motivations, now they were brothers.

“Nothing is more powerful than blood, so we are more than brothers now. We are blood brothers, the strongest bond between men!” Finn gripped Talan’s uncut hand and hauled him up. “It means I will always protect you, and you will always protect me. It means nothing and no one can come between us.”

Finn’s golden locks flopped into his eyes, so he shook his head to clear them. His eyes were so different from Talan’s: a cool, crisp blue compared with Talan’s warm amber. But brothers didn’t have to look alike. His father and Uncle Alaric could have been twins, yet they were as different as night and day.

Father.

Talan felt himself slipping back into the despair that had consumed him these last few weeks. His father was dead. He would never again walk with him in the gardens or ride with him through the countryside. Sensing Talan’s mood change, Finn slapped his shoulder and shook him lightly. “And that’s not all I have planned for tonight. Remember when I told you about the ruins near the edge of the woods? I’ve got snacks packed, and I’ve got a telescope! You can see almost to Bradford with it! In fact, once I saw—”

They both jumped as a diminutive figure appeared beside them. She was small and willowy with a mop of brown curls sprouting out of her head at odd angles. She looked up at them and smiled broadly. Her two front teeth were missing, and her face was smudged with dirt. Between the gap-toothed grin, dirty face, and the wild curls, she looked almost feral. Talan often wondered if the child owned a comb or, if she did, whether it would do any good. Her tiny, freckle-covered pixie face was almost completely consumed by her large brown eyes, which were currently rolling toward the back of her head.

“It’s just blood and some made-up words. I don’t know why you two need to act so stupid about it, and can I go to the ruins with you?” Wren asked as she meandered through the barn.

“No.” Finn frowned at her. “Go home Wren, we are going monster hunting, not playing with dolls.”

She wore a sly smile as she picked up the knife they had nicked from Harlan’s desk, knowing exactly where it had come from. “You’re not supposed to have this. Sure, would be a shame if you got caught.”

Talan and Finn’s eyes met. Since coming to the farm Talan had never known Finn to be afraid of much. Catching snakes in the creek, riding horses at breakneck speed, stealing sweets from the tin late at night? He had even seen Finn race through the birthing cow pasture. That was nothing. Even the thought of cutting their own hands to forge a lifelong bond didn’t scare him. But for Finn to have to face his father after stealing from him? Now that was something to be scared about.

“Wren, be reasonable. Why would you want to get us in trouble? What have we done to deserve such a fate?” Finn kept his voice smooth and calm and slowly made his way toward Wren, never taking his eyes off the knife.

There weren’t a lot of children in the area. Until Talan had arrived, Finn and Wren had been the only children on the farmstead. The laborers’ families lived in the village and rode to the farm each day for work. Wren’s father, however, was the stable master and, as such, was provided a cottage on the property. But despite the small pool of friends to choose from, they still tried to exclude her from their adventures.

She always seemed to find them though. Honestly, the way she showed up out of thin air, he should start calling her Wraith instead of Wren. She was more ghost than the Songbird she was named for. And he had heard her sing, so he knew he had the right of it.

Never one to be cruel without reason, he decided against voicing his thoughts. Instead, he simply sighed to himself and asked the obvious question.

“Wren, would you like to be a blood sister to us and join us at the ruins?”

“WHAT?!” Finn yelled as he attempted and failed to grab the blade from Wren’s hand.

“YES!” cried Wren as she lunged left and deftly evaded Finn’s grasping hands.

Talan took the knife from Wren and very carefully sliced a small cut in the palm of her hand, then reopened his own. He passed the knife to Finn, who glared at him but still reopened his cut as well. Talan clasped Wren’s palm and repeated the vow he had made to Finn.

“I swear that no matter what happens, I’ll always be your friend. I’ll protect you if you’re hurt, help you if you’re in trouble, and never leave you behind.”

“I swear the same.” Wren whispered. Finn rolled his eyes but pressed his palm against hers.

“I swear too. Even if you’re both being annoying.”

“You are annoying,” Wren informed him. Finn ignored her.

To Wren and Finn, this was exactly what it seemed: a childhood oath of friendship. But to Talan, it was so much more. Talan was only ten years old but had already survived an assassination attempt and watched his father die. When he swore to protect his new family, he meant it.

After rewrapping their hands, they used a strip of cloth to help Wren wrap hers. By the time they cleaned up their mess and returned the knife where it belonged, there was only a sliver of light left in the sky.