As she hands them to me, I feel a pang of big-sisterly love mixed with relief that she doesn’t recognise dealun seeds, which means she isn’t using them yet. I, on the other hand, rely on them – my hookups with Ruben are only possible because the weeds the seeds come from grow in abundance in the slums. The last thing I need is a baby when I can barely feed Kay and myself. Still, the Retterheld is going to last several moons,and it’s possible I’ll meet someone who could serve as a welcome distraction from trials and training, so the seeds might as well come with me.
‘Gloves.’ Kay breaks my thoughts as she shoves a pair of brown leather fighting gloves at me. They’re good quality, fingerless with straps that go down past the wrist, offering extra support. ‘This one is heavy,’ Kay says, pulling out a rectangular metal box and handing it to me.
‘Are you not going to open it first?’ I ask.
‘You can do this one.’
‘How generous,’ I say, but we exchange a smile, our first since my return home, and I’m grateful for it.
I lift the lid and gasp at the sight in front of me.
It is a dagger unlike any I’ve ever seen before.
The hilt is made of copper, an unusually soft metal for such a role, and when I grasp it, it is a perfect fit for my grip. As I pull the weapon from its sheath, a bolt of energy shoots into my palm and up through my wrist. A gasp flies from my lungs.
‘Rose?’ Kay looks up at me. ‘Is everything all right?’
My eyes return to the blade as a faint tingling continues to linger in my hand.
‘Yes.’ I meet her gaze with a forced smile. ‘Yes, it’s fine.’
With my attention back on the blade, I twist my wrist, turning it in circles as if toying with an invisible opponent. Light reflects from the surface, dispersing into shades of the kind of brightest blue usually found in the centre of the hottest flame. While the dagger’s blade is smooth and silver, the sheath is a multitude of metals, one of which I’m certain is gold, embedded in the most delicate of patterns. Infinitesimally thin lines branch out from thicker central ones – almost like leaves, I think, only to correct myself. No, like feathers.
‘Wow, that is beautiful.’ Kay’s voice croaks as she reaches out for it. Her fingers brush the metal, only for her to recoil. ‘Ouch! That’s hot! How in the Gods’ names are you holding it?’
‘Is it?’ I question, turning it over again in my hand. It’s not cold, but I’d hardly say it was hot. Warm, maybe. Body temperature. The fact that my sister would classify something like this as hot is just another sign that I need to get her out of these freezing conditions sooner rather than later.
Kay watches on as I continue to move the dagger through the air.
‘A blade like that must be worth a fortune,’ she marvels. Her words cause a lump to thicken in my throat and I place the weapon down. She’sright. The sensible thing to do would be to sell it and buy some cheaper blades before I leave, but as I turn it over, that thought fades.
Something tells me I was not meant to sell this weapon. I was meant to wield it.
Even now, I can see the way it would spin in the air. Perfectly weighted, there’s not a hair’s difference between the weight of the point to cross guard, and cross guard to pommel. A tingle, almost akin to the rush of magic, ripples through me as I imagine sending it hurtling through the air. Ideally into a royal chest.
‘You might have to kill with that blade,’ Kay says quietly.
‘Possibly,’ I reply.Probably, I amend internally, not taking my eyes off the weapon.
A silence forms between us, and I know she’s thinking the same as I am. Can I really do it? Do I really have it in me to kill another human? If it were only my own survival at stake, then perhaps not, but it isn’t. It’s for Kay’s survival as well, and that changes everything. For her, I will do whatever it takes.
‘There’s more in here,’ she says, prodding the box. ‘Do you want to look first?’
I do, but a heavy weight has been placed on my chest, and my gaze is still fixed on the weapon. Perhaps this is why Dinah gave me such an item. Something so stunning it could have been crafted by the Gods’ own hands to ensure I would never forget the value of each life I might take.
‘We’ll see the rest later,’ I reply, forcing a smile as I sheath the blade. ‘I’m hungry.’
Kay’s lips purse so tightly that they all but disappear and I know she’s not done arguing yet. But thankfully, she releases the expression with a sigh. ‘Fine. We’ll eat. But we’re not done talking about this.’
‘No,’ I say, unable to stop myself from rolling my eyes. ‘Somehow, I didn’t think we were.’
Chapter 8
Igive up trying to sleep as dawn’s weak light trickles in through the gaps in our makeshift walls. My chest is tight. Today I leave Kay and present myself to the High Hold.
I can’t bear to imagine what it will be like without her. Family and friends can’t see the Rettlings unless they’re invited to attend the balls held in Korvane’s court, meaning it could be months until I see my sister again, and fear gnaws at me that she won’t be safe without me. As yet, there’s been no word from Dinah or Lord Artur Lorathin.
A gentle trill sounds from outside and a smile pulls at my lips. No bird makes that sound, but a whistling Ruben does. Careful not to wake Kay, I slip out the door and into the street. The sky is grey, the sun having not yet broken the horizon, and Ruben’s smile provides a welcome warmth.
