The corners of my mouth twitch upward at his reaction. “Their Queen has reserved a place for you at the head of the table in the Hall of Warriors.”
His eyebrows arch. “Uh…?”
I press my lips together, trying not to smile at how utterly stunned he looks. Not an expression I thought I’d see on his face.
Then his forehead creases again, and his voice becomes wary. “But they didn’t take me.”
I grimace. It’s my turn to struggle with my words. “I… uh… didn’t make it easy for them.”
“Good.” His sudden smile fades, and his eyes fill with sadness. “But my father?—”
“They collected his soul.”
“What?” He’s suddenly gripping my shoulders. “How?”
“It was when I was trying to wake you up,” I say, attempting to explain it and failing dismally. “All the power from my hammer… Your father’s statue shattered… Somehow, his soulrose from it. General Glass collected it. She promised he would rest in the Hall of Warriors.”
Erik closes his eyes with a groan, his shoulders slumping forward, his hands suddenly heavy where he holds me.
I’m tense and uncertain about how to read his response. “Erik?”
He adjusts his position to slide his arms around me again before he lifts me off my feet, hugging me. “Thank you. It means more to me than I can ever?—”
His voice chokes, and he shakes his head, placing me back on the ground.
“For years, I’ve blamed myself for what happened to my father. He died a warrior’s death, but his soul was captive, and I thought he would never find rest—” Again, Erik stops to clear his throat. “My guilt showed me no mercy.”
Erik told me all about the circumstances of his father’s death—how his father had burned out his deep light trying to defeat Malak, only to be turned to stone. “You were not responsible for Malak’s actions.”
“I told myself that, but my heart refused to believe it,” he says. “Now my father will be at peace. I can finally lay the past to rest.”
Catching hold of my hand, he draws me from the forge and toward the statue.
When we reach it, he extends his free hand toward the sword.
The moment he touches it, the stone column keeping it suspended crumbles into dust, leaving him holding the weapon.
The steel blade catches the moonlight, glinting at us.
He starts to speak and then stops, staring at his hand. Slowly… very slowly… a sapphire glow builds where he touches the sword.
His eyes are wide as he turns to me. “Asha, you have to tell me what you did when you brought me back because this…” Hishands are full—one gripping the sword, the other holding my hand. “This shouldn’t be possible.”
“What shouldn’t be?” I ask, thinking how calm the air feels around us and just how perfectly the light gleams in his eyes.
“I gave all of my deep light to your hammer. All of it. It’s why I died. And yet… I can feel it again.”
I honestly don’t know the answer, and my forehead creases as I try to make sense of it. “Graviter told me that my hammer—or at least its head—is made from dragon’s gold that he hoarded for centuries. He said it could form a bond with a being of pure light.”
I reach for Erik, brushing my fingertips to his strong jaw. “You gave all of your light into my hammer, but if yougaveit to my hammer, then…”
“Your hammer could give it back.”
I nod. “Is that possible?”
He gives a low chuckle, shaking his head. “With you, anything is possible.”
I am limitless.That’s what Erik told me before he died.
