Page 145 of Fate and Flame
Nealla pulled her hand from her long robes. A black stone sat flat in her palm.
I looked to her hidden face, the question obvious.
“The sword?” She held her hand out, her long fingers extending past the ends of her dark robes.
Aibell snapped her fingers with a flash of light and a sword appeared in her hand. Not just any sword. One I had seen a thousand times. Nealla reached for the blade and ran her finger down the sharpened end until I was sure blood would drip down the metal. It didn’t.
“I don’t understand.” I couldn’t look away from my father’s sword.
“This stone,” Nealla said, placing it on the table, “works as an anchor. When I gifted the Wild Hunt to Coro’s ancestors long, long ago, I wrapped it in a specific magic.”
Aibell rolled her eyes. I’d never seen her stoop to such a low. “Here we go.”
“Don’t be bitter, old female,” Nealla bit out.
“How can you call me old? What does that make you?”
I stood, leaning forward to break the old lady fight up. “Why is everyone else’s magic so specific and yet the two of you seem to defy those laws?”
“The laws do not apply to us. Don’t ask questions.” Aibell slammed her staff into the floor.
“She’s always liked the dramatics.” Nealla shook her head. “And she’s just mad because I could never open the door to her world so she could go home.”
“So, it’s true, then.” I looked at Aibell. Her slightly oversized eyes, her deep embedded wrinkles.
“Mind your business,” she barked. “Back to the stone. Sit down, child.”
“There are three of these. One in the human world, one attached to the beast that leads the Hunt, and this one. Each an anchor. Each stone allows the Hunt to travel between the worlds. This stone calls the beast home, the one in the human world draws it there. The Hunt is to travel to the human world and do the bidding of the God of Death. It captures those that are to travel to the underworld and delivers them.”
“What does that have to do with my father’s sword?” I felt the pull to reach for the blade I’d oiled so many times. The handle my father had lovingly polished. I could still hear the sound of him slicing the air as he used it to show me proper techniques.
“This sword has a brother now. Touch the blade, girl, and feel the power it wields.” She placed it on the table between us.
“I’ve touched it before. Carried it.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “It has no power. You are mistaken.”
“When your mind was closed off from magic, it might have felt like an ordinary sword, but this sword has been forged in death.” She spoke the word death like it was an orgasm. Like the very thought seduced her.
“But my father—”
“Your father meant to destroy the stone in the human world, girl. That is why he carried this sword for so long. It was his mission before he was given a fae child to look after.” Nealla looked pointedly at me, and I recoiled on pure instinct.
“Who gave him that mission?” My mind reeled.
“I did. And after you were given to him, he said he would only continue with the plan to destroy the stone if I agreed to bind your magic and the knowledge of you.” She lifted the blade from the table.
“Why? If you gifted the Hunt to King Coro’s ancestors, why not just take it away if you didn’t want him to have it anymore?”
She clicked her tongue. “So many questions.”
Aibell sighed dramatically and rested her chin on her hand, elbow propped on the table.
Nealla cleared her throat, pulling the attention back. “The power nestled between the worlds is vast. It isn’t something anyone, even one such as myself, should tinker with. At the time, I didn’t care. But Coro abused the power I gifted his ancestors. Thassen was a great warrior. I believed him strong enough to destroy the stone. That is why he never left Coro’s hunt, though many times I think he would have liked to.”
She swung the great blade through the air, and for a brief second, a memory of my father doing the same flashed before me. Nealla’s laugh at my response was like a spider walking down my rigid spine.
Fen tugged on our bond.
I’m okay. I’ll be back soon.
