“Iron,” he said finally, “also not the best. But this,” he said almost reverently moving to the last, “Is most definitely steel, and forged steel is what I would want my sword made out of.”
He laid his hand over the steel and pressed. The glowing faded and the pedestal scraped its way back into the floor, the sudden noise making Katya jump despite herself. As the last of the stone melded into place with only a tiny line betraying its existence, a transparent image appeared above the pool. It looked to be a pile of metal, slowly spinning in a circle.
“I’m going to assume that was a good thing,” Gryffon commented.
They got a gentle feeling of agreement.
“Alright,” Katya moved to the next pedestal, “the next one is the one about honestly, trust, and loyalty. This one just has a bunch of lines and curves.” She squinted at the choices. Two were bent lines at a right corner each pointing a different direction. One was straight, one was a half circle, and another was a wavy line.
“The bent lines could be books,” Gryffon offered, “like you can read them like an open book because they are so honest.”
“Maybe…” Katya acquiesced, but wasn’t convinced. “The half circle could also be open arms, as if they have nothing to hide. But which of the books if your suggestion was the case, and what do either of those have to do with a sword?”
“Swords have points that look like the bent symbols, maybe it’s important which way they are pointing to.”
“Like true north?” she said half-jokingly.
“Could be,” Gryffon walked swiftly towards the entrance to the cave and peered outside. After several moments, he returned and seemed to compare the symbols to something. “Doesn’t look like they are…but maybe you’re on to something with the true thing. People who are honest are truthful, you can trust in the truth, and loyalty is being true to something.”
“Well, if that’s the case then I would bet that it’s the straight one,” Katya piped in, “the very word itself comes from being straight-“
“Like an arrow that flies straight is said to be true,” Gryffon cut in excitedly.
“Or a board that is cut straight is also true. Or,” she paused for emphasis, “a sword that is straight would wield true.” She laid her hand over the straight symbol and looked to Gryffon for his approval. He nodded his agreement and she pressed.
The pedestal retreated into the ground with the first and the image above the pool swirled and reformed into the likeness of a straight sword.
The last pedestal loomed before them. Katya let out a sigh. “Okay, something that has to do with a sword that represents love, peace, and forgiveness…”
“Um, naming your sword is like loving it,” Gryffon suggested, shrugging.
“Open arms represents love and forgiveness. That could be this one…” Katya leaned in closer for a better view of the symbols. “What do you suppose these represent?”
Gryffon threw some ideas out, “the circle could be a target…could be everything connected…”
“What about the long rectangle, a square edge on one end and rounded at the other.”
“I’m not sure.” He paused in contemplation. “This one is shaped like a shield. If you love yourself you protect yourself with a shield?”
“Maybe the circle is supposed to be like the wrist-guard; don’t a lot of swords come with that to protect your hand? And the shield. And this cross-like one could be the hilt. Maybe these are all parts of a sword.”
“The last one there could be the sheath then.” Gryffon chewed his lip. “If that’s the case, than which one is love, forgiveness, and peace?”
They both pondered this.
“You would sheath your weapon if you meant to be peaceful,” Katya suggested.
“And you would put it in a sheath to protect it if you had respect - or love - for your sword.”
“I suppose the same would go for being forgiving as well, that you would sheath your sword?”
Gryffon shrugged, “It seems to fit, can you think of anything else?” She shook her head. “Well, I guess that’s the one we’re going with then.” Before he could press it in, however, he suddenly gripped his chest.
Katya was at his side in moments and she grabbed his arm to support him as his knees gave out. “What’s wrong?”
Gryffon just closed his eyes a moment, leaning on her for support, before straightening back up. “I’m fine,” he stated through clenched teeth.
“You’re not fine. What is it?”
His breath continued to come in short bursts and when he didn’t answer she removed his shirt, looking for the source of his discomfort. It soon became apparent as a mangled mess of scarred flesh glowed bright red in the middle of his chest.
Katya hissed. It was a blood-rune if she’d ever seen one. And unfortunately she had. “Where did you get this from?” she asked with distaste.
The pain seemed to subside and Gryffon resumed breathing in a more natural pattern. “From Lady Jezebel. The lovely emissary for Gelendan.” Gryffon laughed humorlessly.
Katya narrowed her eyes. “I should have known.”
“Oh?” asked Gryffon, his demeanor slightly lifted at this camaraderie, “I didn’t realize you had had the displeasure of making her acquaintance.”
“I know of her, and have seen her from afar,” Katya acknowledged. “Don’t tell me she’s mixed up with blood-magic? I thought you said it was only through her to her father that Treymayne was interested in? Wouldn’t her use of blood-magic send her to the top of their watch list?” Katya knew about his situation, and he had filled her in on more of it during their journey, but she hadn’t realized exactly how twisted it really was.
Gryffon fidgeted uncomfortably. “Well, yes. It was more her father that I was supposed to be concerned with because at that time we didn’t realize the extent of Jezebel’s madness. It wasn’t until events with Layna complicated things and she revealed her involvement with blood-magic by sending a pack of her hellhounds to kill us.”
“What the blazes is going on with everyone? And they let this woman be an emissary?”
“By the time I knew about the hellhounds, I had been compromised and they were less likely to believe someone who disobeyed direct orders to bring a girl to the Shadowlands to figure out why she had the mark of the Dark King on her neck. Not to mention she was the first emissary in perhaps ever. And how does that saying go? ‘Keep your enemies closer’? But nevertheless, we’re getting side-tracked. Yes, it was that vile creature that gave me this wonderful memento.”
“Do you know what it is?”
“Aileen said that it was a life-sucker, that apparently while the beast was torturing me she accidentally used a bloodrune which will use my energy to replenish hers if she needs it.” He paused and a dark look came over his face. “Or if she wants it, it sounded like, and it was only that she hadn’t realized that she’d done it that she hadn’t starting draining me. Perhaps she’s finally figured it out.”
“Well, how do you get rid of it then?”
He shrugged, a resigned look on his face, “I don’t know.” He straightened, and re-buttoned his shirt. “But right now we have others matters that demand our attention. I believe we decided on the sheath?” He held a finger over the symbol, waiting for her response.
She gave him a stern look, not wanting to let him drop the subject so easily, but he was right that they had other things to do at the moment. She gave him a curt nod.
He took a deep breath and pressed the symbol that they hoped represented a sheath.
For a long moment nothing happened. Katya counted her breaths and on the third, the pedestal started to move. As it did so, a mist started filling the room spilling out from the pool.
*
Jezebel sighed irritably. Devon reached over and hooked his finger under her chin, bringing her face up to meet his, giving her a tiny tingling of power that faded as his touch did. “What’s the matter? Not enjoying practicing your power anymore?”
She gave him a small smile, not liking the weakness in the feelings that were developing for the man. “Not enjoying having it so tantalizingly close,” she clarified, “only to have it disappear once again.”
“You will get it eventually. I know I at least am not minding the delay.”
She snarled at him. “Just make sure you don’t forget your place Devon,” she sniped, “our little activities may be useful to me for the moment, but that doesn’t mean you get to treat me as though I am not your superior.”
“Of course, my lady,” Devon humored her, though his tone did not sound in the least bit subservient. To top it off, he followed it up with a rather hard slap to her backside.
She yelped in pain, and suddenly was thrown down a familiar path. Power rushed past her inner self and she reached for it greedily. She drank it into her being and as she retreated back to her physical body, she brought part of it with her, opening a channel to the river.
She laughed hysterically. “I did it!” she shouted in ecstasy. “I have my power back!”
She gathered up a gigantic ball of fire in her hands, basking in the feel of it before hurling it at the wall of their house-arrest cell.
“I did it,” she said more calmly this time, glancing over at Devon who looked more properly in his place, giving her plenty of room as the fire still danced across her skin. “And I remember everything.”
*
Nathair winged over the landscape, his dragon vision easily making out the shapes far below him. His army spread out across the land, covering fields and forests. From above, he could see the vast expanse of its reach.
He was pleased with himself. It had taken such a short amount of time to gather this impressive force, and already he was making plans to move it onto Treymaynian soil to gather them into his empire.
He felt an ever increasing urge to overtake Treymayne, and the area in the north especially. For some reason he had a strange feeling that there was danger to him there. Ever since he had determined that he could not be trusted trying to get to his girls at present, their mission was a constant distraction to him. If he couldn’t assimilate them into his forces yet, he needed to be master of their domain.
Glancing down at his forces once more, he let out a blast of fire in contentment, streaming it across the air like a golden archway. His army looked like a black stain creeping along the landscape, expanding outwards. No one would be able to withstand it.
His Godhood was established in Gelendan, his army was ready to invade, and his plan with Jezebel was in place. Everything was going perfectly.
*
As the pedestal disappeared into the roiling mists, three tendrils of green smoke started swirling together into a smoky cloud of light that slowly snaked its way into the pool. The stones lit up one by one underneath the image of the sword, and then they all flashed in unison and the cavern filled with the thick fog.
They watched and waited. The emotions coming from the pool were emitting a soft calm hum, and the mists were nothing harmful. Even so, Katya had an uneasy feeling like something was creeping up on them, not from inside the cave, but from beyond.
Katya glanced around worriedly. “I hope that this works,” she said softly, “I can feel a darkness growing nearer.”
Layna’s voice suddenly broke through the haze.
“Those who fear the darkness,” she stated in a strong voice, stepping out from the mists and holding a very real sword, her eyes glowing bright white for a moment before darkening into their usual hue, “haven’t seen what the light can do.”
* * *
Continue the story with:
Leoht (BloodRunes: Book 3)
And don’t miss the exciting beginning in:
Unleashed Fury (BloodRunes: Book 1)
Connect with the author:
Websites: http://LauraRCole.yolasite.com
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Those Who Fear the Darkness (BloodRunes: Book 2) Page 24
