Page 76 of An Honored Vow

Gerarda was at the helm, dressed in all black so she looked like the Dagger she once was. She smirked up at the Elders as she wrote her name beside the other Shade’s. My breath caught as she handed the pen to the next Halfling in line. Every eligible Halfling we had rescued from the Order stood behind her, ready to write theirnames. The pins Myrrah had crafted for us glinted in the firelight at their necks.

I glanced around the crowd, looking for Riven in the sea of Halflings. But he was nowhere to be found. My stomach tightened though I didn’t know if it was with relief or knowing the only reason Riven didn’t write his name was because he still carried too much guilt to do so. He blamed himself for Maerhal’s death, and Nikolai blamed him too. He did not think he deserved his magic back, and maybe he was right.

Other Halflings joined the line. Some I recognized as those who trained with Elaran and Gerarda. Some were scouts who had been living in theFaelinthfor decades already.

Elaran came up behind me and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Picturing me with amber eyes?”

“No, yours are already so pretty,” I deadpanned as Elaran cut in line to write her own name. “Though I can’t say I’m surprised you’re volunteering.” I didn’t dull the edge of my tone. I hadn’t forgotten Elaran’s allegations about me keeping my magic to myself.

She tapped the end of my nose. “Let’s not dwell on old storms, Keera. Not when we are about to be Fae together.”

I raised a brow. “You think the council will select you.”

“Absolutely.” Elaran shot them a wink. “They are wise and I am a wise decision.” She held out her hand for me to take. “Might as well do it now. I’d like to know what kind of magic I’d get. I’m already so—”

“Presumptuous?” I finished for her.

She tugged on a loose curl. “Can’t be presumptuous when I exceed the expectations.”

I huffed a laugh. “And those are?”

“Lethal talent, impeccable self-control, and most importantly I have—”

“Delusions?”

Elaran gave me a sly smirk. “The color palette to pull off amber eyes.” She brandished her hand across the full-length gown she’d decided was appropriate for the occasion. “You think I’m insufferable now, just wait, Keera dear.”

“You didn’t have the patience to wait in line, let alone control your …” I trailed off as I turned back to the list.

Dynara raised her chin. She didn’t say a word, just set down the glass pen and walked away without looking at me. Her name was already inked onto the parchment.

CHAPTERTHIRTY

SIL’ABAR SWAYED HIGH ABOVE US, its golden leaves almost dusty under the gray skies of the morning. The Elders had held their vote at first light, and a crowd was now waiting to hear who would be named as candidates and who would not.

My stomach knotted. Fyrel and Gerarda paced beside me, silent and anxious. My hands were damp as I rubbed them against my thighs.

I had never presided over a Trial as Blade. I had refused, leaving such displeasures to Hildegard to contend with. But now I understood the true weight of what she had done. None of the Halflings circling the giant Elder birch were going to die today, but their fates would be decided for them.

I wouldn’t bestow a hood upon their head, but I would change some of their lives—and likely not for the better. What if I didsomething wrong and their gifts were left fractured like Riven’s had been, afflicted with a pain that would never subside for the rest of their lives? And for those whose gifts settled as well as Gwyn’s had, they would have the weight of the war on their shoulders.

Feron was the first to exit Sil’abar. His steps were slow, but the crowd didn’t dare make a sound. The clack of his cane marked a count as he grew closer. Behind him, Darythir looped her arm through Syrra’s as she pushed Myrrah’s chair. Rheih followed after them, hands stuffed in the pockets of her smock.

Each of the five Elders held their mouths in a straight line. A small orb of water floated by Feron’s mouth and another soared above the crowd ready to hear their decision.

“After much deliberation, my fellow Elders and I have reached a consensus.” He lifted his arm and a thick root shot from the ground making a curved seat for him to lean on as he spoke. “We will nominate four Halflings to be bestowed with gifts from theniinokwenar.”

The crowd broke into a chorus of gasps and outraged shouts. My chest eased as I looked around. I would only be marking four for death out of hundreds. Still four more than I wanted, but the Elders had balanced the scales to a sum I could live with.

Feron lifted his hand and the crowd fell silent. “While it is tempting to turn any willing Halfling, our resources to train new magic wielders are too limited. Restricting the number to four will ensure that we do not spread our resources too thin training the new Fae and those already bestowed with gifts.” His eyes drifted over the crowd to find Gwyn, Vrail, and Crison huddled together.

Darythir stepped forward with a piece of parchment in her hand. Feron created a podium for her with a simple wave of his hand. She addressed the crowd, and Feron used his projected voice to interpret for her.

“This was not an easy choice, but it is a choice that each one of us stands by.” Her wrinkled eyes were sharp as she stared down the first line of the crowd. “As these new Fae will be key soldiers in the battles to come, we have chosen to select our candidates from the Halflings who have already received extensive training on self-control, combat, and self-defense.”

A low murmur echoed through the crowd as the Halflings who had been rescued from the kingdom realized they would not be chosen.

They were picking from the Shades.

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