“How old is he now?” Rey cut in.
“Nearly twelve,” grumbled Vig. “The twins are sixteen. Which you’d know if you cared to open your correspondence?—”
Runný cut her brother off. “Has Rey shown you his tricks, Silla?”
“Not by choice,” grumbled Rey.
Silla’s head was spinning. “What do all these names mean? Blade Breaker? Shadow Hound? I gather Ashbringersmake…fire…”
Runný made an irritated sound. “Galtung has told you nothing, has he?”
“Nothing.”
Runný sighed. “How verypredictableof you, Galtung. A man of deeds, not words.Neverwords.” She gestured to Vig. “A Blade Breaker is one of the Warrior Galdra. They are capable of bursts of great strength. And a Shadow Hound…we play tricks with the light that help us blend with the shadows, bend light, and reshape it to our will. Of course, it depends on the individual, as all are different in subtle ways.”
Silla was silent, digesting these words. Blade Breaker. She thought of that buzzing sensation—of Rey and Skraeda, each sailing through the air after she’d pushed them. But her arms had glowed with that strange white light. So surely that meant she was an Ashbringer?
“Warrior Galdra,” Silla repeated. “Is there another type?”
“There are the Mind Galdra as well,” said Vig. “While the Warrior Galdra have gifts of the body, the Mind Galdra have gifts of thought and memory. Solacers, Readers, Weavers.”
Silla’s head swam with this information, and she wanted to wrap her hands around Reynir Galtung’s neck and squeeze for not explaining this to her.
“And you, Silla?” asked Vig with a gleaming smile. “You are Galdra?”
“I…suppose I am,” she admitted. It was strange to say this so openly. “I am adjusting to the thought, as I’ve only recently discovered it.”
“Recentlydiscovered?” asked Runný, incredulous. “What, have you been living in a mountain cave?”
“Something like that,” said Silla. “My father gave me skjöld leaves under the guise they treated headaches.”
The tightness in her chest spread through her body, and she took a deep breath. Gods, but she couldn’t think of her father now. Silla soldiered forward. “Once I became aware of the dangers of the leaves, I stopped taking them and began to glow, and now it seems I might be an Ashbringer.”
Silence stretched in the wake of her rushed confession, but Silla felt Runný’s gaze on her. “You’re not Cohesed then? Your heart and your mind remain unlinked?”
Silla nodded.
“It is unheard of to have such a late learner,” said Runný. “It could be quite a challenge.”
Silla tried not to let her heart sink at that. “I like a challenge,” she said defiantly. “When there is something I want, I am quite persistent.”
Rey let out a long sigh. “Unfortunately,” he said, “I can affirm that.”
“So you’ll bring her to Harpa, then?”asked Runný.
At Rey’s subtle nod, Silla’s brows shot down. “Harpa?”
“An instructor,” said Rey wearily. “She’ll anchor you through your Rite and teach you.”
A curious look passed between the siblings, but before Silla could ask more, Vig had honed his gaze onto Rey. “And you, Galtung?” he asked. “What happened to Istré?”
Rey only stared into the flames.
“If you need the shield-house, too, that must mean the mighty Axe Eyes has been exposed.” When Rey did not reply, Vig continued his goading. “What happened? Did the Klaernar come for you? Try to cleanse your soul on one of those pillars?”
Rey’s glower deepened, and so Vig continued. “Your letter asked us to fetch Silla from Istré, and yet here you are, quite a bit north from there. So that must mean?—”
“It means it’s a long story not meant for your ears,” snapped Rey, pointedly ignoring Silla’s gaze.
