Turning in place and taking in the spectacle of my family’s wealth, my eyes bulge. How is this possible? There must be thousands of jewels in this room. Where did it all come from?
I spin around, and my eyes land at the back of the room. Tucked away in a small corner is a wrought iron stand supporting dazzling, webbed chain-mail armor attached to a silver chest plate and shoulder guards, the silhouette obviously designed for a woman. A silver helmet crowned with golden wings is perched on top of the stand, and a shield emblazoned with poppies is propped up next to it.
My mother is the reason I’m here, the reason any of this is here. My eyes begin to water as I realize Agatha’s intentions in bringing me here.
She gestures to the stand. “This was your mother’s,” she pauses, looking back at me, “and I know she would be honored for you to wear them.”
I feel a pang in my chest at yet another moment my parents will not get to see.
But the emotionally tense moment is abruptly shattered by Tane loudly asking, “Oi,” his accent heavy, “did you even see the swords?”
Followed by what I swear is him prancing in front of a glass case wedged full of swords, daggers, throwing knives, and even a broad sword. I chuckle while walking over to the glass case full of weapons that he’s still pointing at.
All of them are works of art, with engravings and jewels on their intricate hilts. Evander mirrors Tane’s excitement with a whistle, his eyes growing wide while pointing out a particularly stunning dagger that has black jewels encrusted on the hilt.
But a small dagger with sapphires set into carved waves draws my attention. The waves are extremely detailed and remind me of the ones I surfed with my dad in California. I close my eyes, wishing for just one more afternoon in the ocean with him.
Mathilda peruses the jewelry and gasps when she points out a necklace that has a ruby the size of her fist surrounded by diamonds. “I can’t believe I didn’t even know about this place.”
She shoots a look at Lachlan, who holds up his hands with an innocent gesture.
“Hey, I’m just a guard.”
His blatant lie garners eye rolls and chuckles from the group. Studying the armor in front of me, I run my hand the length of the shield.
I’m flooded with memories of my mom. It’s not unfathomable to imagine her carrying this shield now that I know what a force of nature she was here in this place. Pieces of my memory stitch together with who I knew her to be in the human realm and with who she was here, creating a complete picture of the woman she was. It makes sense as she was always otherworldly to me. It’s nice to know my assumptions were correct all along.
My necklace pulses slightly, the warmth chasing away the chill in the room.
But Lachlan breaks my train of thought. “I hate to rush ye, but we need to hurry back. It’s going to take a while to get the group ready to leave, and I assume ye want to have this confrontation with your aunt sooner rather than later?”
I nod.
Agatha begins dismantling the stand and handing me the armor. Once in my hand, I marvel at how light it actually is, and up close, I can see that there’s a pattern engraved into the chest and shoulder plates, poppies, of course. I look up at Agatha. Herface is serious yet kind, and she places the helmet crown on my head.
Time slows to a stop.
I hold my breath, and everyone freezes in place.
The weight of the crown is heavy on my brow, not just from the metal, but from the weight of my new responsibilities. It’s as if they’re tangible in the metal. It’s not unbearable, but it definitely makes itself the foremost priority in reorienting my balance.
I can feel the ripples of this moment race outward, and despite myself, I wonder if Odessa can feel the impact all the way in the capital.
Agatha clears her throat. “There’s one more thing.” She walks up to a case that was hidden in the shadows. “This was your father’s.”
She pulls a single item from the darkness, a sword that mirrors the sapphire dagger. It is long but lean, and the weight is comparable to the sword I’ve been using alongside the ax.
The blade is made up of layered steel, and distinct markings ripple along its surface. I meet Agatha’s eyes, and her mouth parts as if there’s more she’s about to say, but she shuts it quickly, nodding before turning on her heel and leading us from the vault.
35
BATTLE PREP
Mathilda, Mina, and Elowen help me carry the armor up to my room. My bed is strewn with armor and our weapons. The moment feels bleak compared to my time getting ready to go out with Mathilda, but similar all the same. The candles lit around the room cast shadows, but the sparse light is a warm glow.
There’s a comfortable silence as we’re each lost in our own thoughts, mentally preparing for the battle ahead. The only sound in the room is that of clothes being shed and armor being donned.
The metal of the chain-mail clinks together lightly as Mathilda hoists it up over my head and waits patiently for me to concentrate on vanishing my fledgling wings. They’re just as long as my unbound hair, and the silver feathers have begun growing in length.
