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Nesta nodded. “And how I got Ataraxia to fly that far into the sky. I winnowed the blade, too. A few days ago, I tried to winnow to the Prison, but I wasn’t strong enough and wound up nearly drowning in the sea instead.”

I let every word sink into me. Nesta. Winnowing. Drowning.

“Rhys found me—saved me,” she went on, the words tumbling out as if she couldn’t contain them. “But right before he did, I sensed something under the water. It wasn’t there anymore, but it was like . . . a ghost of something that had been there. It told me to find it.”

“What was it?” It couldn’t be good.

“I thought it was something like the Trove,” Nesta said, withdrawing her hand from mine. “But I think . . . I actually think the feel of it is something closer to those.” She pointed to the swords on the carpet.

I eyed them. “You’d better get rid of them, by the way.”

“Rhys finally let me have them, so no need to worry about him throwing a tantrum.”

I chuckled. “No. I meant before my baby comes back in here and impales himself on them.” Nyx’s stuffed rabbit was plopped right in the middle of the weapons.

Nesta snickered, and the swords vanished. Her face grew serious again. “Do you think I should go after whatever it was that I sensed?”

“I don’t know,” I confessed. “Do we need another magic sword, if that’s what it is? We already have three.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “But what if you were shown that magical echo for a reason? What if that is the Made object the territories are going after?”

Something tightened in Nesta’s face, as if the words had hit a nerve. But she said, “We should ask Amren when she gets back. Perhaps she knows of other weapons that might be out there.” Nesta scowled, considering. “It could also be a trap—one of the kingdoms deliberately planting a Made object so we’d find it, and then they’d accuse us of continuing to arm ourselves.”

It could also be part of Hybern’s machinations, whatever they might be.

“Does that seem likely to you?”

“No.” Nesta chewed on her bottom lip, then surprised me by saying, “You should come with me—to Valkyrie training.”

“I thought you’d stopped going,” I said warily.

“I did. But I’m going to start again.” I angled my head to one side, curious. Nesta explained, “Yesterday, I was too slow, too frazzled, especially with that stupid dress.” Her lip curled in self-disgust. “I need—I want to be in training again. And I think you should join me.”

I considered. “Are you sure? I always thought your time with the Valkyries was, well . . . yours. Don’t forget that I won’t only be your sister to your friends—I’ll also be their High Lady.”

“Then don’t act like a High Lady. Just come as Feyre. If they can put up with Azriel and Cassian strutting about, they’ll be fine with you.”

“Are they going to be teaching again?”

Nesta leaned back into the cushions. “After yesterday, I’m not sure Azriel should be left to his own devices for too long, anyway. Perhaps the training would be good for him. And as for Cassian . . .” Her mouth twisted in a knowing smirk. “He’ll do what I tell him to.”

If that was all Nesta was willing to divulge about her current situation with her mate, that was fine. It was enough that she felt able to confide any of this in me. And after yesterday, after spending all night with Nyx’s screams still echoing in my ears . . . yes. I would happily join her at Valkyrie training and learn new ways to destroy my enemies and protect those I loved.

Nesta said suddenly, “Bryce Quinlan told me that she thought the eight-pointed star tattooed on my back was there for a reason.”

I blinked. “Really?”

Nesta nodded, relief brightening her features—had she been holding this inside? “Right before she returned to her own world. That’s what she said to me.” Nesta swallowed. “And her mother, while she was here, told me that she thought . . . she thought I’d find my way.”

I kept silent, letting her think it through, get to whatever it was she wanted to say.

Nesta’s eyes met mine. Steel and silver fire. “I want to know if both of those things are true.”

“Then let’s find out. Your destiny is your own, Nesta.”

My sister studied me for a moment before Gwydion appeared in her hands. “Take it,” she said. I blinked again. Nesta went on, “I have more swords than I know what to do with. The other two, I Made, but this one . . .” She shrugged with one shoulder. “Bryce gave it to me, and now I’m giving it to you.”

“This is a sword that once belonged to the High King and Queen of Prythian,” I cautioned. “And wasn’t it used to kill one of them?”

Nesta’s smile was pure darkness. “Then maybe you can find a better use for it.”