Page 111 of What Blooms from Death

“It tookyearsfor me to find a way to enter one of those roads to death,” I said, turning my attention back to my brother. “I still don’t understand why I was taken away from this world in the first place. Earlier, you said it was to protect us, but…”

“Yes. Because when you were born, your magic initially caused more harm than good—it was simply too much to contain within this small section of our world. It was drawing in all manner of wraiths and shades, and far worse creatures, who essentially lost their minds trying to feed off it. So, Orin took you Above, vowing to keep you safe until your magic stabilized enough to come back here to reclaim your sword and crown.”

I gripped the bracelets Orin had made for me, lifting my eyes toward the sword in question. Would Grimnor help stabilize and channel my powers further?

My brother’s gaze followed mine, settling on the dark blade for a long moment before he tilted his face to me and said, “You are meant to wield it. And through it, to turn magic in our favor once more.”

It looked incredibly heavy. And yet, at least in that moment, it was impossible not to imaginewielding it. Impossible not to wonder about what would happen if I wrapped my hands around its beautiful, sparkling hilt…

Before I realized what I was doing, I found myself rising to my feet, making my way to the swords and kneeling at the pedestal they floated above. Phantom latched onto my shoulder, peering nervously up at the blades while the bulk of his body hung against my back.

There were words etched into the face of the pedestal. I ran my fingers over them, feeling out a message in a language I couldn’t read, and I soon realized…

Some of the symbols here were the same as the ones painted on my turquoise bracelet.

And that bracelet had started to tremble gently against my wrist.

“What makes you think she’ll be able to use the sword to save this world?” Zayn asked, getting to his feet as well. “She doesn’t have the greatest history when it comes to keeping her magicunder any sort of precise control.” Clearing his throat, he added, “No offense, Princess.”

“None taken,” I said, distractedly, my fingers still tracing the pedestal’s strange words.

“And what would she be attempting to wield it against, truly?” Aleksander asked. “You claim the Keepers of Light are in league with this Lorien figure; I imagine they won’t make reaching the Aetherstone easy, even if she can figure out how to work the sword and magic needed to manipulate it.”

“Yes.” Bastian’s voice seemed laden with a thousand unspoken concerns, yet he doggedly continued on: “The Keepers are, in fact, guarding it fiercely, and have been for centuries—presumably under Lorien’s orders. It’s the other part of the battle we face, unfortunately. We can’t breach their protective lines. Or we couldn’t, at least, until Nova came along and gave us a chance at resurrecting a proper army.”

I could sense his gaze shifting, pressing against me, heavy with hope. With expectations. I closed my eyes against the doubt trying to flood through me, keeping my hand braced against the pedestal. Something about the feel of the words beneath my fingertips—even if I couldn’t decipher them—kept me calm. It quickly settled the shivering in my bracelet, too. Almost as if whatever power slept in its beads had only been waiting for me to reunite it with the power at the center of this chamber.

“What you did outside of Erebos was nothing short of astounding,” Bastian continued. “You’re bringinglifeback to this world. Not to all of it, no, but your power will be enough to help us raise an army capable of taking on the forces that have kept us from entering Nerithys—the domain where the Aetherstone resides—for all these centuries.”

“She didn’t raise those beings from the dead on her own,” Zayn reminded them.

“And there were always two of the Vaelora, didn’t you say?” Aleksander added. “But is there another aside from Nova, now?”

Thalia’s reply was stiff. “None that we’re aware of.”

“So who will wield Luminor? Don’t you need both to adequately control the Stone?”

This time, Thalia didn’t reply; the questions hung like a storm cloud in the air, charged and heavy and waiting to break.

An invisible, yet very clear fence seemed to be rising between us. I stood slowly, glancing over my shoulder and studying the faces on each side.

Aleksander was staring at his sword, his eyes glowing a brilliant shade of gold in its light, as he said, “This blade was a gift to me as a child. I know its weight, its magic, andIcould potentially wield it…but why would I help her—oryou—when to do so would likely mean the end of my world and my kingdom’s rule?”

The cold calculation in his words stung. But I couldn’t deny that he had a point; I’d asked myself the same question, earlier. Despite all the progress we’d made towardnotwanting to murder one another, it seemed we were destined to remain enemies, whether we liked it or not.

“Whatever power she’s been borrowing from you, we will teach her to do without it,” Thalia said, cooly. “She won’t need you once she’s had a chance to properly practice her powers with the other magic users that share her same alignment.”

“You think she can turn the Stone by herself?” Zayn asked.

“With an army at her back, yes. The old ways are long dead, the pacts broken, the laws forgotten—and we intend to make that work in our favor, now.”

Both Zayn and Aleksander started to protest, but my brother cut them off.

“I hardly think I need to point this out,” came his voice, low and filled with warning, “but the two of you are vastlyoutnumbered in this palace. So whether or not you intend to help us willingly is rather irrelevant.”

At this, the conversation collapsed into nothing but arguments.

I looked back to the swords, blocking out the noise behind me as best I could.

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