Page 84 of The Mirror of Beasts

Nash seemed even more astonished. “Well, yes, that’s what I suspect. But where did you hear that riddle?”

“The better question is, how do you know about it?” I asked. The memory of him recounting Creiddylad’s story flooded back to me, as disorienting as it had been the first time. “How do you know so much about Lord Death and the Wild Hunt?”

“I’ve spent my life sticking my nose in places where it doesn’t belong, collecting bits and bobs of lesser-known histories, and trading gossip with sorceresses,” Nash said. “You think I haven’t heard a scary story here and there?”

Nash lied as easily and naturally as he drew breath.

“So … what sword is it?” Neve asked.

“I believe it’s one of the magic blades forged by the Goddess,” Nash said. “Lord Death is nearly a god himself—and the crown he wears allows him to call upon the full might of Annwn’s magic. It would take something divinely forged to kill him.”

“Avalon was once home to all of the Goddess’s gifts,” Caitriona intoned flatly. “That included a number of finely honed weapons.”

“Merlin told Viviane the mirror was out of her reach forevermore, which, by the way, is such a good word,” Neve said. “So it was removed from the isle at one point or another. But, I mean, how many magic swords have come out of that place? Even Tamsin found one.”

Nash turned to me, eyes alight with almost boyish excitement. “You did?”

I gestured toward our pile of things at the far edge of the attic. I’d found the sword—or maybe it had found me—at the bottom of the lake near the High Priestesses’ burial mound. Even thinking about it was enough to draw the dream from the other night back to the front of my mind, and I hadn’t wanted to touch it since.

“Is this … the sword of Rhydderch Hael? Dyrnwyn?” Nash said incredulously. “White-Hilt? You left behind a bloody fire sword when you went to Rivenoak?”

“What, am I supposed to walk around with it and wave it at people like a cool party trick?” I snapped. “How was I supposed to know what was going to happen?”

I’d left the sword behind because I hadn’t wanted to believe there was any use for it. At least, that was what I’d told the others, but it had been far harder to lie to myself.

It was a piece of Avalon and the person I’d been there—the person I’d let myself believe I could be.

Someone who cared.

Someone worthy.

I’d only brought it to the library because Neve had made me, and because I didn’t want it to be taken from the apartment while we were gone. But I couldn’t shake the fear that when I pulled it from its scabbard, the blade would no longer catch fire in my hand.

The truth was, it had been a mistake on my part not to bring it. I knew Children of the Night had crossed into our world with Lord Death. It was inevitable we’d face them again, and if there was one thing a fire sword was useful for, it was scaring off monsters who hated light.

“I should have suspected something like this would happen,” Caitriona said. “Avalon’s dead underwent the same transformation into Children when we didn’t burn the bodies.”

“Is this happening to all the people they kill? Was that why Hemlock wanted her body burned?” Neve asked, horrified. “I thought the curse with the Children was connected to the isle, not to the way they died—or who killed them.”

Nash pulled the sword from its scabbard, but only an inch. It was enough to spark the white flames on the exposed steel, the air whining and singing as the fire licked at it.

I stared at it in disbelief. Him? Really?

“Now I know that thing is busted,” I bit out.

“Was it forged by the Goddess?” Neve asked hopefully.

“Sadly, no.” Nash slid it fully back into its scabbard and handed it to me. “The first Lady of the Lake enchanted it with protective magic for a mortal king who swore to aid her in protecting the isle. I’ll talk to Librarian and poke around in the stacks to see what I can find about the isle’s divinely forged weapons. There’s a bathroom downstairs I’d advise taking advantage of, and I’m sure we can rustle up some food from the lockers.”

It was strange, in a way, to feel relief at someone else taking charge of the situation and telling us what to do. But even after Nash vanished back down into the empty library, none of us moved.

“Are we really going to leave Olwen in Wyrm’s hands?” Neve asked softly.

The thought tore at me. “She’s strong. As much as it pains me to say, I think Nash could be right about this—she might have already gotten away.”

“And if she hasn’t?” Caitriona asked. “If that despicable man brings her to Lord Death and he kills her and makes her one of his riders, or worse?”

“We can’t think like that,” Neve said. “Olwen is useful to him. She’ll find a way to stay alive until we can get to her, wherever it is they’re hiding out. But I think we’re only going to get one good chance to strike at him before the solstice.”

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