Page 59 of An Honored Vow

I shook my head, touching the hilt with just my fingertips. It was hot but no longer burned. “Blood-bound blades choose their wielder. This blade has not chosen me.”

My stomach twisted into knots. I didn’t want any more responsibility in this war, but I had assumed the sword would recognize the similarities between me and Faelin, its previous wielder. Nowsomeone else would have to claim the blade and the responsibility that such a weapon carried.

Gwyn took a deep breath and reached for the hilt herself. She closed her eyes as her fingers wrapped around it, head turned away as if that would keep her hand from burning. After several long moments, she opened a single eye. The blade was still silver.

I burst into a fit of laughter. Gwyn shoved my shoulder. “It could have been me!” Her offense gave way to her own hearty laugh.

I sheathed the sword in its case and strapped it to my back.

Gwyn’s gaze still lingered on the hilt. “Who do you think it will choose?”

We walked out of the room together, ready to head back through the portal to Myrelinth. “Fyrel,” I answered only because I knew it would annoy her most.

Gwyn’s eyes stormed with envy. “I would never hear the end of it.”

I laughed but its aftertaste was sour. Whoever the sword chose would have the only other weapon against theshirak. The moment the blade turned gold, they would be a target. For the shadow beasts and Damien’s Arsenal.

I just hoped whoever Faelin’s sword chose didn’t have to die.

CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE

SYRRA STILL STOODguard over Maerhal. Her legs were stone anchoring her to the ground above her sister’s head. Only her eyes tracked me across the room as I took my usual spot along the middle of the stone slab.

Syrra swallowed as I placed a bouquet of moonflowers across Maerhal’s chest. Nikolai had spent centuries bringing flowers to her statue whenever he was home; it felt only right that I should continue the tradition while he was gone. “I thought Vrail had been leaving them,” she whispered, eyes teary.

My head dropped low. “I don’t think Vrail can step foot into this room without crying. She spends all her time trying to find a way to locate Nikolai.”

Syrra’s teeth gritted together. The only thing that made her feel more useless than knowing she hadn’t been there to protect her sisterwas being reminded that her own nephew had been taken under her watch.

She nodded at the bouquet. “You have shown your hand too easily. You have kept this up for weeks without letting me know it was you bringing the bouquets. You did not come here to lay flowers.”

“No,” I sighed, tucking Maerhal’s bandaged arms over the stems. “But this way we both get to enjoy the blooms.”

“Her favorites,” we said at the same time.

The tears lining Syrra’s eyes began to well, but they did not fall. She lifted her head, refusing to blink. “What have you come to ask of me?”

I appreciated Syrra’s tact. She never wasted time, always cutting straight to the point. It reminded me of Hildegard.

“You still believe that changing Halflings into Fae is the only way to win this war?”

Syrra nodded. “Not just the war. But thewaateyshirakare a contentious threat, especially when our numbers are so small.”

“Feron has agreed to train the new Fae in their powers.” My hands balled into fists at my sides. “I’m hoping Riven will too.”

Syrra didn’t move. She was a statue again, a soldier cast in stone for failing her post.

“They will need to be trained in combat too.” I made a point of letting my gaze trail over Syrra’s scars, each a mark of her skills and victories on the fields of battle. “Trained by someone who has fought alongside Fae and won.”

“Pirmiith is a warrior in his own right.” Syrra’s neck flexed. “He fought in all of Aemon’s wars while I was left useless.”

“And he shall again, if he wishes.” I grabbed Syrra’s hand. “But we both know he is not who should lead this army. We have sat fractured long enough. It is time thatallour leaders step up to the helm again.”

A single tear dropped from Syrra’s eye, missing her cheek and wetting her full lip instead. “You saw for yourself. Elverath rejected the chance to bless me. Perhaps I am meant to stepback.”

I shook my head. “For someone so old, you are absolutely ridiculous.”

Syrra didn’t laugh.

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