I open my eyes and watch as the stone pedestal rises from the rock, glowing with silver-blue light. There’s a deep groove carved into the top slab, just as I expected. But unlike the version we saw back home, this groove isn’t hollow.
Fitted inside, perfect and whole and real, is the Sword of Breath and Blade.
“It’s magnificent,” I breathe, tears glazing my eyes. The silver blade pulses with magick, and the witchfire glows brighter in my palm, as if it’s answering the call.
For a long moment, none of us speaks, each lost in our own reverie over the ancient artifact. For so long it was just an idea, a legend we read about in the lore books, the magickally buried treasure we worked so hard to reveal.
But it’s no longer a legend. No longer a mythical weapon crafted by the First Fool and his great sacrifice to our kind. Seeing it here, unearthing it from the dream realm, we’ve just brought the legend to life.
It’s a part of our shared history as witches and mages, our legacy as the Arcana and protectors of all magick, and its power is undeniable.
I reach my hand out and hover over the blade, testing the magick that emanates from every inch. “I can’t believe we—”
Movement near the guys snags my attention, and I look up to find my Princess of Swords standing between them, arms folded over her chest, glaring at me as if I’m the biggest idiot she’s ever encountered. On her shoulder, the black raven caws.
Apparently he thinks I’m an idiot too.
“What’s wrong?” Kirin asks.
“We’ve… got company.” I acknowledge her with a smile and a slight bow. “Princess of Swords. Always lovely to see you.”
The guys stiffen.
“Don’t worry,” I say. “You’re not the ones she’s mad at tonight.”
The Princess continues to glare.
She doesn’t speak. Doesn’t need to. The sharpness in her eyes says it all.
I unleash a sigh. As much as I’d love to stand here admiring our find, she’s totally right.
The realm isn’t safe, and we’ve more than overstayed our welcome.
“We found what we came here for,” I tell the guys. “Time to collect it and go home.”
“Couldn’t agree more.” Baz claps his hands together, then glances between Kirin and me. “So, which one of my favorite air-blessed wonder twins is going to remove that blade?”
“Kirin,” I say firmly, at the same time Kirin blurts out my name.
The Princess rolls her eyes and tosses up her hands, shooting me a final icy glare before vanishing into the darkness.
“Okay, I guess we’re on our own with this,” I grumble. Then, turning to Kirin, “I think you should try first. You’re the more experienced mage, and my air magick is still pretty unstable.”
Kirin shakes his head, taking a step back from the pedestal. “Stevie, we both know this sword was meant for you. It’s connected to your elemental affinity—her appearance just now was a clear sign of that. And your sense of it is so much stronger than mine.”
I open my mouth to argue, but as soon as I do, the sword’s magick pulses through me again, stronger than before. It’s clear and perfect and fills me with a deep sense of knowing. Of connection.
Every last one of my doubts disappears.
Kirin flashes a knowing smile and gestures toward the pedestal. “As I was saying…”
Taking a calm, steadying breath, I reach for the sword, wrapping my hand around the grip and lifting it out of its stone groove.
The magick zips down my arm, a bolt of warmth and energy so intense it makes me gasp. I feel it connecting with my magick, bonding, merging. Suddenly it’s as if I was born with it. As if I’ve never been without it.
The Sword was meant for my hand, for my magick. I don’t know how I ever doubted it.
With a wide smile and a full heart, I raise my blade up high, and look up into the proud, happy faces of my brothers…
