Page 203 of Starside

When I’m done with every single crumb and every drop of tea, I sit back in the chair, slumping against the pillows. That’s where I am minutes later, when there’s a knock on my door.

Vander is standing there, looking as though he’s already been awake for hours. He doesn’t bother with pleasantries. He just says, “If you don’t have a creature—you need alliances.”

A knife twists within me as I remember my dragon. I frown. “Alliances? How will that help me?”

He turns to stride down the hall, and I slip on those shoes I found downstairs, then follow. “How much do you know about swords?”

“I know how to make them,” I say. He nods, an understanding between us that Stellan taught me what he knew. He was a blacksmith even before the quest. “I know how to summon mine now.”

“You knew how to summon me.”

I nod, remembering how the forest had stilled. Remembering that, no matter how much Stellan trusted him, I cannot. Not fully, at least.

We turn a corner. The halls are empty. We only pass that same woman attendant—Ethel—who glares at me and bows to Vander before hurrying away, in a rush. I remember her mentioning being too busy with something else to host a guest.

“Not every sword can summon,” he says. “Not every immortal can hear a summoner’s call.” He turns another corner. “All swords can make oaths.”

I think about the king, asking for oaths on the blades he provided his challengers. I wonder how many of those challengers are still alive.

At my silence, Vander continues. “Oaths bind to the blade itself. If the oath is broken … so is the sword. And depending on the connection … so is the wielder. You see, after much time, a wielder and their blade become almost one. The bond is just like riders and their creatures. Especially for great swords like ours.”

“Okay. How will oaths help me?” I ask, as he finally leads me into a room.

I go still, taking in the rows and rows of books. We’ve entered a sprawling library. In the middle sits a long table made of ancient wood. I can almost feel its history, its power.

Without a word, Vander plunges his sword into the center of the table, and a map spills from its metal.

A living, silver map. It has all the places I know now from memory. The Prism Path. The Beast Tree. Some places we haven’t reached yet, like the City on Fire. I reach out and can feel the heat of the burning city. I swallow. If Raker ever saw this, he would leave me. I know that. He’s told me. It’s a good thing he’s locked in the stables.

I look over at Vander in question.

“On foot, it’s a long journey still,” he says, trailing a finger through the metal, all the way from his home to the Land of the Gods. Vander’s estate is in the center of Starside, to the south. We’ve gone backward more than two weeks’ worth of travel in just portaling here.

Fuck. Even if I expected to return to Stormside before the fifty days are up … now, it seems impossible. It might even be impossible to reach the gods in time.

Vander seems to have a plan, though. He points out various homes that sit between his and the archway where we’re heading.

“The Great Estates,” he says. “From the Great Houses of Starside.” There are far more than there are left on Stormside. They had the magic necessary to keep and hold their power. “They are all enchanted and connected. If you’re able to get an invitation to a Great House, your sword can take you to its gates.”

Portaling across this much land … it would make a huge difference in our journey. It would almost make it easy.

“My sword … could portal me?”

He nods. “But invitations are forms of oaths and are rare, of course. They aren’t given up lightly. An heir of a Great House swearing on your blade would be at great risk.” He turns to face me. “But there are those among us who would like to see the gods dead.” He frowns. “To what lengths will you go to get your revenge?”

“Any length. I’ll do … anything.”

He looks pensive. His expression grows serious. “Think about what you might promise these heirs. It’s your choice.”

Dread settles, knowing his meaning. What would I offer? Would I truly do anything?

“How would I even meet them in the first place?”

“You’re in luck.” His eyes glimmer, but I don’t miss the shadow of a frown. “There’s a ball happening in four days. Here, at my estate. It’s been planned for a while now.” The attendant’s preparations—that’s what she must be working on. “Heirs of most Great Houses will be in attendance.”

A ball. The way he says it, with irritation, makes me think it might be more than just a grand party. Still, if what he says is true … it offers an incredible opportunity.

He tightens his fist on the hilt of the sword, and the map retreats into its metal in a glimmering wave. He pulls the blade out of the table and makes to turn, but I whirl to face him. “Am I losing my mind?” I ask, remembering the bath, and the clothes that weren’t there at first, and the shoes by the door. “Or is your estate … is your house …. alive?”