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I thought back, remembering that night so many nights ago. I remembered Thana,myThana attacking Kade—attacking me, no—trying tokillme. I shivered, taking a swallow of tea to soothe the burning in my throat and stop the stinging in my eyes. No, I wouldn’t cry over her anymore. I’d done enough of that in the days following her fall.
The blade. She had it raised, ready to strike, four stones in its tarnished silver hilt… and a place for a fifth, a setting where a stone was missing.
“No,” I answered him, “There were only four stones in the blade’s hilt.”
He nodded as though satisfied with my answer.
“But,” I continued, “I am certain there was a setting for a fifth stone. That setting was empty.”
“It doesn’t make any sense,” Tiernan said in a low voice, more for himself than for anyone else to hear.
Finn looked up from the scroll before him, “None of this does. The Mad King shouldn’t be alive. The Blessed Blade should be a myth. And it’s impossible to be Graced with more than one Grace.” His gaze flitted to me for an instant, and I wanted to bury my face in the extravagant pleats of my dress.
Why should I have to be the one? The impossible one. Thedifferentone. Why couldn’t I be the scullery maid, who only wanted to finish her day’s work and get home to her mate? Why couldn’t I be her?
You were born to do great things,Thana’s words whispered in the recesses of my mind, echoing through muddled childhood memory.You aren’t like other Fae, you’re destined for more.Little did I know her true meaning was that I was destined to meet my maker by the pointy end of a mythical blade wielded by her own hand.
Stop it, Liana. Stop thinking about her.
“Impossible,” Tiernan repeated, meeting Finn’s narrow-eyed stare with one of his own, “Nothing is impossible anymore.”
“Tell me about the stones.” Finn demanded, setting aside his scroll for the moment. Giving his full attention to Tiernan. “Tell me everything you know.”
Chapter Fourteen
Talking had gotten us no closer to answers. We already knew the Blessed Blade passed a Grace from a slain victim into its master—the one who wielded it. But we still didn’t know what the fifth stone did. It was easy enough to assume that the dragons-eye stone set into the band on my finger was the fifth stone.
But that didn’t tell us what it was made for. It could serve any purpose.Never take it off.That was what Morgana told me. She wouldn’t have said something like that unless the stone was important. But I couldn’t remember the exact shape of the setting of the missing stone. It could have been a diamond—in fact, I was almost certain it was. Butalmostcertain wasn’t enough to make anyone believe it to be true.
The one thing we all agreed on, was the fifth stone was an addition to the original design and purpose of the blade. After looking over what Finn found about the blade as well, we knew that to be true.
I watched Thana fall—the Blessed Blade still clutched in her pale claw-like fingers. So, perhaps it was lost to the sea. The issue with that theory was the simple fact that there is a large outcropping of rock beneath that terrace. And if she fell how I saw her fall that is where she would have met her end—not in the sea.
So, then why have they still not found her body? Or the Blessed Blade?
“We have to assume the worst possible scenario,” Finn had said, “We have to assume that the blade somehow made it back into the hands of its master.”
Tiernan regarded me with an apology in his polished jade eyes, “And we have to accept the possibility that Thana could still live.”
I shook off the tremor tripping down the length of my body, coming back to myself at the sound of a gentle knock on my bathing room door. “Liana?” Alaric called, “Aisling is here to see you, would you like me to tell her to come back later?”
Right. I had forgotten. “No,” I called back, “Tell her I’ll be out in a minute.”
Forcing myself from the steaming water of my bath was a struggle, and I hissed when the chill night air brushed my skin. I dried and dressed quickly, pulling on my nightclothes, and then covering them with a soft deep blue robe stitched with patterns of silver and red flowers. My hair I twisted into a tight bun at the nape of my neck. I wasn’t exactly presentable for a visitor, but for Aisling, it would have to do.
I wandered into the parlor and found it empty, “Alaric,” I called, my blood chilling.
“They’re in the drawing room, majesty,” Jaen said, seeming to appear from thin air. I jumped, my heart lurching into my throat.
“I’m sorry, majesty, I didn’t mean to startle you,” she said, worry creasing the soft skin of her forehead.
I shook my head at her, slowing my breaths, “That’s fine, thank you.”
I could count on one hand the number of times I’d been in the drawing room. Not unlike the parlor, it was a room filled with plush furnishings and low tables. The only difference was the walls were filled with shelves and those shelves were filled with books. And it was smaller.
There were doors, I realized as I approached. Heavy oak with giant brass knobs. That’s why they were in there. To hide from prying eyes and passing servants.
The doors opened for me before I could open them myself. “There you are,” Alaric said, and it surprised me to find him there with Aisling—instead of outside my bedchamber. I was glad he thought I could handle myself for at least a few minutes alone.
