“It’s the dragon way,” Rayna said, with an impressively straight face.
“True enough,” he agreed. “Anyway, this artifact is going to serve a very useful purpose for us. It’s a coin purse designed so that only members of the same family can open it. Now that we’ve found it, this is a very simple way for us to test whether you’re related. We’ll set it to recognize one of you, and if the other can open it, then you’re family.”
An unexpected shiver of pure apprehension went through Anders. On one hand, he waspositivethat he and Rayna were twins. He couldn’t doubt that, not in his heart. He’d given up everything to be with Rayna, and it was worth it a hundred times over. On the other hand, that selfsame heart was thumping wildly at the prospect of this test, so hard he could feel it all over his body.
After everything they’d been through, the risk that Leif might tell him Rayna somehow wasn’t his sister—might try to deny or take away that connection—made his mouth dry and his breath shake as he drew it in.
Rayna reached over and took his hand in hers, squeezing tight, and he knew without even looking at her that she was as nervous as he was, even if she’d try and bluster her way out of it.
He found himself speaking before he quite knew what he was going to say.
“Leif.” His voice was surprisingly steady, given he was pretty sure the rest of him was shaking. “We’re family anyway. No matter what the purse says. Rayna will always be my sister.”
“Yes,” Rayna said, uncharacteristically brief, her voice a little rough, her hand squeezing hard. “No matter what, Leif.”
The Drekleid inclined his head respectfully. “Of course,” he agreed. “If you’re prepared to try the artifact, I think it would be helpful for us to know whether you are sister and brother by blood, or simply by connection of the heart.”
Anders looked across at Rayna, seeing his own doubt mirrored in her eyes.
“I think we should,” she said eventually. “We both want to know who we are. What we are. And I hate that I can’t make a spark, let alone a flame. If we know we’re blood related, perhaps that means I can make icefire. Two’s better than one, right?” Her smile was weak.
“Two’s always better than one,” he told her firmly, and they both knew he wasn’t talking about icefire.
“Okay,” she said to Leif, letting go of Anders’s hand. “Let’s try this purse, then.”
Leif nodded. “I’ve released the previous bindings on the purse, which wasn’t easy—I had to find a member of the family it used to belong to and get her to release it. It was the granddaughter, and she’s living over in Port Alcher now. Quite a flight. She doesn’t transform, but she has an inkling her grandmother did. Anyway, she—the granddaughter, I mean—runs a pie shop, and I had to buy a dozen pies before she made time for me.” He paused, reflective. “They were delicious, though. And at any rate, now the purse is unattached, waiting for its new owner. It will bond to the next person who touches it. That’s why I’m holding it with a handkerchief. Anders, would you do the honors? It will require just the smallest drop of your blood. Artifacts linked to family often do, among others. The blood of the most powerful wolves and dragons can achieve a great deal.”
Anders took the purse from Leif’s hand, cradling it in the palm of his own. He accepted a needle and pricked his fingertip, and with a quick sting a tiny drop of blood welled up, crimson against his brown skin. He pressed it to the silver of the clasp and his hand tingled briefly—a tickling, bubbly sensation that swept quickly up his arm and through his body in a wave. The purse itself seemed to glow for an instant, and then it looked normal once more.
“Done,” said Leif. “Now, Rayna, if you would be so kind as to take the purse and attempt to open it, we’ll have our answer. If it doesn’t recognize you, it will scream an alarm. If it opens, that’s all we need to see.”
Rayna took a deep breath, and took the purse from Anders’s hand, just as he’d taken it from Leif’s a minute before. “Here goes,” she said, and Anders knew she was trying to sound like her usual brave self, despite the tremor in her voice. She put her fingers to the little silver clasp on the purse and took a deep breath.
Then her fingers pressed against it.
It popped open, like it was waiting expectantly for someone to drop coins inside.
All three of them stared down at it, and then Rayna began to laugh in sheer relief. Anders’s face stretched to a grin, and he threw both his arms around her, hugging her tight.
“Can you imagine?” she said. “If someone had come in, and we were all just sitting here, staring at the purse like it was going to start singing and dancing?” She was giggling, and Anders couldn’t help but join in. Even Leif smiled, breathing out slowly as the tension dissipated. “Can I keep the purse?” Rayna asked.
“Yes,” said Leif, still smiling. “Sparks and scales, you can keep the purse.”
Anders had worried about the answer to the question of who he was, ofwhathe was—ever since the moment of their transformation—but he hadn’t realized just how much of an effect it was having on him until now. He felt so much lighter, he could have floated up to the ceiling.
“You may be the first confirmed elementals of mixed blood in Vallen,” Leif told them, his voice quiet, thoughtful. “I mean, plenty of people have traces of wolf and dragon ancestry, and I suspect some transformed wolves and dragons even have traces of the other in their heritage. But there have only ever been stories about what might happen if two actual elementals—two people capable of transformation themselves—had a child. In you, we may have evidence that it’s possible. We may have evidence that the old stories, which say that elementals of mixed blood have special powers, are true. This must be the reason for your icefire, Anders. And Rayna, it means you probably have a gift as well.”
“There was an old story about a dragonsmith with special powers, wasn’t there?” Anders asked, remembering Hayn’s grim expression the day he’d told Anders and Lisabet about the dragon who’d killed his brother.
“That’s right,” Leif said, his smile dropping away. “Drifa, her name was. We attended the Finskól together as children. She grew up to be the greatest dragonsmith of our age. She was clever, inventive, creative, and daring, and the whispered rumor was that her father was a thunder lion from Mositala. They are elementals who control the wind and air. If she knew the truth about her parentage, she never told us, but the story was that her thunder lion heritage allowed her to control the winds around her forge and infuse them with essence. Then, when she worked with her own magical flame, she created truly incredible artifacts.”
“That sounds amazing,” Rayna breathed. “Why do you look so serious?”
Leif shook his head. “She died far too young. The wolves claimed she murdered one of their own, and afterward, nobody could find her. We searched as best we could, but we have no idea where she went, or whether she died too that day. It’s been so long now that I’m sure she must be dead. Things were difficult between dragons and wolves before the day they say she killed a wolf, but afterward, they were impossible. The wolves refused to trust us, and their demands became more and more unreasonable, until eventually, they tried to keep dragons prisoner in the city of Holbard itself, to ensure we worked on the artifacts they needed. It was that wolf’s death, and Drifa’s disappearance, that led to the last great battle.”
Both Anders and Rayna were silent, eyes wide. Anders knew this wasn’t the story that was told about the battle in Holbard. He’d always heard that the dragons had attacked unprovoked, and the wolves had defended the city. But if the wolves had been holding dragons prisoner, that was a whole other story. Then again, if a dragon had killed a wolf... He didn’t know what to make of it.
One thing he did know for sure, though, was that both sides would suffer if there was another battle. “Leif,” he said, “has the Dragonmeet made any progress in deciding what to do about the Snowstone?”
