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“Your attention to detail is astounding. Now, tell me about the isles.”
Refocused, my father pointed to a new version of the fae isles. Descriptions of pleasant, warmer air, dense forests, and damp swamps. Descriptions of the isles of the South as I knew them. Riot listened with intent, he asked questions; he followed the shift of rivers and lakes into land or the ocean; he studied the fissures and natural breaks in the earth my father could see that no one else could.
“And the western seas have nothing?”
“Yes,” Daj said. “As you stated was the case in your dream.”
“I’m impressed, Petter. You’ve created an impressive world.” Riot smiled. “This has been educational. May I keep the altered realms? In case storms haunt my dreams again.”
My father chuckled and rolled up the paper, handing it to the king. After a moment he straightened. “King Riot, I do not know all the toils and troubles of a kingdom, but that dreams of harm happening to your people brings you angst, to me, says a great deal of the sort of king you are. I hope you know, Highness, should you need us, whether we are Rave or not, we will stand with you.”
Riot’s throat bobbed. He was silent for a few breaths before he dipped his chin. “Words matter, and yours have meant a great deal.”
“Wraith.” My voice was heavy. “Those drawings, they are not exact, but they are eerily close to the world as I know it.”
“What are you asking, Ari?”
I closed my eyes. “My father, did he . . . create our broken world?”
“Petter Sekundär held a powerful gift, not a simple talent with cartography. Fury took his knowledge deeper until he knew the exact fractures to make, the width of rivers, the temperament of landscapes. All the details a fate worker would require to have seidr build a grand twist of destiny. To create somethingnew.”
By the gods. My head spun. My hands were damp and numb. How was it even possible? How did my father hail from Saga’s old world and I never knew? Wraith said there were pieces I had yet to see, but the questions on my tongue only silenced when a new guard entered and announced the Night Folk blacksmith had arrived.
My father began assembling the maps into neat rolls again when a bulky smith and a young woman stepped into the room behind the guard.
“No.” I gripped the roots of my hair. “Wraith, what the hells is this? I . . . I knew he was a smith, I knew she understood the blade and steel and—gods—how is this real?”
Wraith was somber and quiet, simply letting me blather on when the Night Folk woman tossed back her hood. Hair dark as Saga’s raven wings, pulled into a simple braid behind her neck. She held a fur wrapped blade. The cutting edges were hidden, but the gold and silver hilt in the shape of entwined raven wings was masterfully built.
My mother was proud and gentle in the same glance.
“Ah, Lars.” Riot approached the man who was a granddaj I never met. My mother told me he’d died long before the raids. The king greeted him, then faced my mother. “I hear you ran the forge, Jytte.”
She bowed her head. “I think you’ll be pleased, My King.”
“A blade fit for a king.” Lars said. “Forged with fury—”
“From you?” Riot asked.
“Jytte is the one who has talent with the earthen elements. She created the power of the blade.”
My mother tried to hide her smile. Her father seemed like a brisk man, but one who was unashamed at showing pride for his daughter.
“Should it touch flesh,” my mother said, voice soft. “The fury blade will pull from the iron of the blood into the iron of the blade, weakening whatever power flows in the veins of a foe. It is quite brutal, Your Highness.”
Riot removed the sword from the wrap, inspected the balance, the glisten of dark steel. He rotated it in his grip, then nodded. “You made certain it was made from your blood?”
“Yes.”
“Then it’s perfect.”
While they discussed the new sword, my father tried to slip away, but clumsily stumbled into my mother’s shoulder.
“Pardon, Jytte,” he mumbled, head down.
Her cheeks pinked and she hurried to help him gather his fallen maps. “No bother.”
Riot observed the interaction, his fingers flicked at his sides, all focus on the two young Night Folk fae, despite Lars still explaining the attributes of the fury blade. A blade infused with my mother’s own bleeding magic.
