Page 159 of Lady for Embers

There was a burst of dark ?ames from which the Commander drew a sword, and it was a sword unlike Callan had ever seen. The blade was a deep shade of blue, the hilt silver with a sapphire the color of the blade embedded in it.

“What kind of material is that?” Sorin asked, stepping closer. All the magic-wielders were ?xated on the weapon as if they were about to brawl over it here and now.

“Material not found here,” Tybalt replied, balancing the sword on both palms and holding it up for them to inspect. “It was brought from another realm eons ago.” In a blink, the hilt was in his hand, and he slashed it through the air, black ?ames igniting down the blade.

“It is like the spirit sword,” Eliza said, jaw dropping open.

“Itisa spirit sword,” Tybalt replied with a smile.

“How many are there?” Scarlett asked.

“What do you care? You already have one,” Cyrus said, eyeing the sword. “In fact, you should be disquali?ed. Who needs two spirit swords?”

“What? No!” Scarlett cried in outrage.

“He has a point,” Azrael cut in.

“I will show youmypoint,” Scarlett growled, shadows twisting into snakes at her feet.

“Love,” Sorin sighed, a hand coming to her back.

“Do notLoveme,” she snapped, jerking away from him. “I’m still mad at you.”

Sorin tipped his head to the darkening sky as though he was asking the gods for patience.

“Whoever makes it to the center ?rst wins the sword,” Tybalt said. “Seems fair and simple enough.”

“No magic. No Traveling or portals. Feet must remain on the ground at all times, which means no climbing the hedges to see from the top,” Cethin said, looking at Razik as if this had been an issue in the past. “With the Ash Riders absent, we do not need to set speci?c rules for them. Anyone have any objections or additional rules that need to be discussed?”

“I will patrol for anyone who tries to get creative,” Tybalt said. “Get organized at your starting points. I will place the sword and be back to signal the start.”

He disappeared a moment later. Scarlett threw a handful of white ?ames into the air, and they hovered above the maze, illuminating the area as the sky got darker. Azrael started directing towards starting points, calling out ?ower colors.

“What shall it be, Tava?” Hale asked, extending his elbow in her direction. “We do not need to throw our lot in for that sword. We can simply wander the maze. The longest I have ever been lost is three days, but I do not think that should be an issue with so many others inside.”

“Three days?” Tava gasped, a hand ?uttering to her chest.

“I jest, Tava,” Hale said with a chuckle. “Tybalt will make sure none of us gets stranded within.”

Callan watched as she glanced quickly at Drake before linking her arm with his. “If you insist,” she said with a small laugh.

“Solgard.”

Callan turned at the sound of his name, ?nding Prince Azrael by the south entrance, a red ?ower in his hand. He sighed, moving in his direction as Tava and Hale disappeared around a corner. A moment later, there was a burst of black ?ame that signaled the start of the apparent race. Azrael, Cethin, and Sawyer took off at sprints into the maze, and Callan ventured in himself at a much slower pace.

He was so godsdamn tired. He was sleep deprived, unable to get more than an hour of sleep at any given moment before waking to memories of Finn and Sloan. They weren’t even always memories of their deaths. Just memories of training together. Their friendship. The normalcy it all once was.

Or memories of his parents. Of time spent at one of their private estates, just their family and personal guards. Of his mother telling him stories when he was younger. Of his father taking him riding and teaching him to hunt.

Of Alaric slitting their throats.

All these years spent preparing him to take the throne, but no one ever prepared him for this. He’d been taught how to strategize and plan for battles. He’d been taught proper manners and the history of his kingdom. He’d been taught politics and the art of negotiation. He’d been taught numerous dances and artfulfencing and what type of nobility would make a partner suitable enough to be queen. Why hadn’t anyone taught him how to deal with this?

Why hadn’t anyone taught him how to manage grief when your loved ones were murdered in front of your eyes? Why hadn’t anyone prepared him for the possibility of having to raise his younger sister? Why hadn’t anyone prepared him to make the hard call of staying and dying or abandoning your people to go get help? Why hadn’t anyone prepared him for godsdamn real life?

A streak of silver hair raced past the intersecting paths he was coming up on, laughter tumbling from the queen’s lips as she took a corner at speed.

And for the briefest of moments, Callan envied her and her upbringing.

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