The older fae nodded. “Smaller changes are difficult enough to wrap ones head around. I cannot imagine altering your identity so thoroughly.”
Stars, I did not want to talk about this with them, faeI barely knew. Thankfully, I had another topic in mind. “I don’t suppose you could elaborate on Sassa’s Blade?”
Brynhild nodded. “It’s the blade of the Unification. How much do you know about the Unification?”
“The basics, perhaps a touch more, I suppose.”
“Did you know a great cavern opened in the ground? That is where Sassa banished the Shadow Army?”
“I—I did not.” Nor did I see how that was possible. Or understand the implications.
“That’s what they say happened. No one alive then is alive now, and many of the histories have been destroyed, but oral tradition lives on.” Brynhild leaned back in her chair and rested her folded hands on the table. “It says that the blade possesses great magic. Have you experienced it?”
I jolted, shocked at the mention of the magic of the sword, but also curious for answers. Perhaps I’d found the one person who could give them. Maybe the rebels understood more than anyone gave them credit for. And maybe I should share the information I’d gleaned about the sword.
“Once. A shadow came from it,” I admitted.
Brynhild’s eyes flew open. “A shadow?!”
“In the shape of a man. It helped me.”
The other two exchanged glances.
“Will I get my sword back?” I asked, more possessive of it than I had been since I learned they’d taken it.
“In time,” Bac replied. “I must ask though, since you have one Hallow and are going after another, do you have the third?”
“I do not,” I said. “I assume you speak of theFrør Crown?”
Brynhild smirked. “You have more knowledge than you let on.”
“Barely.” I shrugged a shoulder.
“Well, let us see if we’re on the same page.” Brynhild clasped her hands together on the table. “The Frør Crown is a sign of legitimacy for the ruler of Winter’s Realm, and the least is known of it, but it is the third Hallow of this land. The Frør Crown has magic, like the other two, though I cannot say what that magic is.”
That was what Vale said too.
“And you two learned all of this from the histories?” It was my turn to ask questions. “How did you get these histories?”
The male’s lips curled up. “My mother worked in a famous library in the south. She was well respected and well loved, by one more than most.” He gave an unamused chuckle. “My father, in an effort to impress my mother, allowed her access to the place where only the members of the Golden House and select keepers can go. She read of the Hallows there and told me of them.”
The Golden House. I’d never heard House Balik described as such, but it fit. They were gold of eyes and deep gold of hair and certain members of the Balik clan such as Sian wore enough of the metal to weigh down an orc.
“Your father was a keeper of this knowledge?”
Bac shook his head. “Better. He was a brother to Warden of the South, Tadgh Balik.”
I drew in a breath. So Bac was a highborn bastard, related to Baenna, Eireann, Sian, Filip, and the other Balikswho I’d not met. A cousin. I looked at him afresh and believed it. His brown skin and golden eyes were so very familiar.
“I’ve met some of your family,” I said. “They’re my friends and very kind.”
“My mother spoke well of them, and even though my father died, and they never married, I think she loved him until she took her last breath.”
Stars alive. If there was one thing I understood, it was being an orphan. I didn’t think Bac had intended to draw a line connecting us, but as far as I was concerned, he had.
“I’m sorry about your parents,” I said. “But I’m pleased that you entrusted me with this information.”
“It’s not a secret,” Bac laughed. “Our rebel forces comprise of bastards, criminals, cripples, and otherwise broken fae. Sometimes just fae who want a better life for their younglings too, but all of us have seen hardship.”
