Page 133 of The Cruel Dawn
“That’s because this sword was made by the usurper and traitor.” Usese clicks his decorated teeth and shakes his massive head. “Agon shared that he’s studying theLibrum. Some of that knowledge has revealed that the traitor created new beasts that are invincible against mortal weapons. We’re also just learning that blades like Fury can no longer harm a being that has been created by the one who created her, nor can she harm a member of the creator’s family. Danar Rrivae has obviously imparted his son with knowledge gained from his travel across the Aetherium.”
I shake my head. “But I’ve killed otherworldly before with her.”
“Not this new generation of otherworldly,” the Yeaden says, “which is why you’re here now, asking about linionium-made blades. Have other blades cut down the enemy?”
Justice? Yes.
Zephar’s dual blades? Yes.
The blades of other Mera warriors? Yes.
Even my dagger, Tempest, worked. Each of these blades had been made by immortal armorers throughout the Aetherium. Fury, the only sword that cuts as well as a butter knife, was made by a demigod and child of the traitor.
Shit.
“None were linionium,” I point out.
“Catherite is still stronger than the steel used for…” He lifts Fury, then holds my gaze. “I’m sorry if this is unwelcome news, but she must be destroyed.”
My nostrils flare and sweat pricks my underarms. “If you must.” I close my eyes. I don’t want to witness the end of this loyal blade.
“Lady Megidrail,” Usese whispers.
I breathe through my clenched teeth before opening my eyes to look at him.
He holds a red cushion, and sitting upon it is a sword. “A gift from your father,” the Yeaden says.
The hilt is wrapped in black leather. The cross-guard is embellished with a pair of small moths on each side, framing the blade. Another moth has been engraved on the dark metal cap of the pommel as though she’s watching over the sword. And the blade…
“Linionium,” Usese says.
The black blade tapers to a razor-sharp point. Ghostly moths spread along the length of the blade, shimmering in the forge’s dim light, lifting her even though she is still.
So light. So beautiful. Sodeadly.
“It’s as powerful as the Council will allow you to have.” The Yeaden chuckles and adds, “Which means that it isstillthe most powerful blade throughout Vallendor. She is bound to you—and to you alone. Any person, mortal or immortal, who dares to touch her will die where they stand. Do you understand?”
My body shakes as I nod.
“And her name?” he asks.
I think about the power of this blade and the dread she’ll inspire.
I think about the moths: transformation, death, rebirth, intuition.
I think about my place as Grand Defender and Lady of the Verdant Realm… Divine, Celestial, Maelstrom, Kielat, Aniel, Elenven, Lady of Courage, Goddess of Victory…
My mixed blood of warriors and healers, explorers and builders and scholars…the Blood of All.
All of it must end because one coming dawn brings more danger than all others.
“I’ll name her…Cruel Dawn.” I kiss the blade.
Usese bows his head. “And so she shall be known and recorded as Cruel Dawn.”
And now I must return to work.
My first kill? Zephar.
