"Spahk." Her voice was low and murmuring, a soothing caress. She leaned forward and raised the other hand holding the piercing gun and touched the sensitive flesh to make the first piercing in the upswept pointed curve. "With metal forged by my own blood and magic I mark you. Thou art mine beloved. Parted from me, and never parted." She spoke softly in an obscure ancient pre-Surakian dialect.