Neve’s blade came from King Harald’s long-hidden rooms. Hence it followed to reason that it was a royal sword. One could assume that meant it was valuable, even famous, but I hadn’t been able to name it.
“Your blade, miss, it has touched the shadows,” Master Kolmot said, “meaning it is old, since the time of the Unification, if not older.” He held out a hand. “May I?”
“Um, sure.” Neve unsheathed her blade and handed it to the smith, who hadn’t bothered to learn her name, so great was his interest in the sword.
“Zupriansteel, made the old way,” the ancient dwarf murmured, “and yes, shadows.” He peered at the hilt, squinting as he did so before he brought the blade to his ear, listening to the metal. His eyes widened, and he looked up at Neve. “Sassa’s Blade.”
“What happened?!” she asked, her tone frantic, but seeing his expression was not one of awe or ire but rather, recognition, understanding dawned on me.
“He means,” I placed a soft hand on my wife’s shoulder, “that your blade is Queen Sassa’s sword. You carry the sword of the queen who unified the realm. It’s a powerful symbol.”
Legendary was more like it. Sassa and her blade had banished the Shadow King and Queen and, it seemed, in doing so, might have taken on the magic of the Shadow Fae that this dwarf recognized.
Master Kolmot nodded. “And a powerful blade, strong in legacy and magic, I think. Perhaps it can call shadows? Ido not know, though I sense the darkness of that magic—something my own teachers taught me about. However, I have no knowledge of how to test it, I’m sorry to say. Only theoretical learning.” The Master Smith passed back the sword. “Use it carefully.”
Neve took it, her hand shaking when she replied. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Chapter 9
NEVE
The first thing I noticed upon arriving to sup with the entire royal family of House Fellhelm was how at ease they were with one another.
Six siblings, three of them triplets, and no one appeared to despise the other. Or compete. Or egg the others on—not meanly anyhow. The family smiled and teased and laughed. To me, they looked ideal, like something to envy, and stars, did I.
And the Fellhelms’ aren’t done growing a family.I glanced at the queen’s round belly.
Queen Deseana caught me, and her stubby-fingered hand rubbed at the bump. “I believe it might be twins.”
Twinsin addition to her brood of six. I’d grown up with humans, with their predictable cycles that came every moon. But fae differed greatly from humans. Most fae had trouble building large families, largely due to highly irregular female cycles and turns in which both the males and females were simply more fertile than others. Thordur aside, who I’dlearned was nearing his sixtieth nameday, most of the Fellhelm children were all in their twenties.
“May the stars bless your growing family,” I said as a human woman dressed in Fellhelm slate gray and gold swept in to fill the wine goblets carved from a beautiful stone and crafted to look more like inverted mountains. Tapered candles lined the tables, providing supplemental light to the torches on the walls. No faelights here, just simple, classic ambiance.
Vale sat across from me at the fourteen-person table. King Tholin reigned at the head, Queen Deseana to his right, next to Vale. Heir Prince Thordur sat to my right and the second in the royal line, Princess Bavirra, perched to my left.
The other four Fellhelm children took spots around Caelo and Anna and were involved in a lively discussion with the pair. Elsewhere, a faint din of kitchen noises could be heard, making my stomach rumble. We’d started the day rising early and walking through the mountains with a group of humans to protect and were ending it at a table full of royals. I was exhausted and so looking forward to a proper meal.
I picked up my goblet, examined the hammer etched into the stone. I ran my finger over it, lingering on the rune in the center. The same hammer had been on the doors leading into Dergia. The Doors of Eitriod, Vale had called them. “Is this your house symbol?”
“Indeed,” Prince Thordur said. “It’s said that the hammer used by the dead god Eitriod looked the very same.”
“I see.” I reached into the far recesses of my mind, flailing for something to contribute, but, as ever, when I thought of the dead gods, no specifics came. During my turns as a slave, I’d been taught nothing about the gods. We’d been told to worship the stars, and that was enough. Now though, I was no slave. I needed to better learn the customs of my people.
“I know little of that god, but seeing as he uses a hammer, I’m guessing he’s for the smiths?”
Princess Bavirra, who I’d met only briefly when she’d been helping the humans by getting them food and seeing that they were comfortable, leaned over. Her long night-dark hair fell over her shoulder and her skin, as inky as Sir Caelo’s, gleamed in the many lights of the candles. She had certainly inherited the queen’s beauty. “Eitriod is the patron god of smiths. He deals with metal, earth, and fire. And of course, he is a dwarf, which is why our kind loves him so.”
“I could have told her as much,” Thordur murmured, though there was no real ire in his tone.
“But as always, I am quicker!” The princess gave a mischievous grin. “Plus, you monopolized much of their time today. Don’t frown at me for wishing to get a word in edgewise.”
“Edgewise?” The heir scoffed. “Eitriod knows that once you start, no one else will ever speak to Prince Vale or Princess Neve again.”
I felt Vale’s stare and glanced across the table. A look of amusement was on his face. I wondered if he was thinking of Saga, and how he and his sister often ribbed one another. I certainly was.
“Do you have a book on Eitriod?” I asked the siblings. “I’d love to learn more about your favorite god.”
“I do!” the princess said. “I’ll send it to your rooms!”
