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“Just…anyone I want?” The sword that had caught my eye a few times wasn’t as grandiose as the others on display.
“Yes, any of the swords. No explanation required.” Matthew tapped his chest where his heart was. “And no pressure. Take your time.”
I took them at their word and wandered the room, making sure I saw each of the swords displayed there, from slender and sharp to large and terrifying. And still, my eyes danced back to one tucked in the corner, almost as an afterthought. Finally, after a full circle, I returned to the sword I kept looking at and stood in front of it.
“Are you mine?” I asked, and then flushed, feeling foolish for talking to a sword.
The blade was significantly shorter than the others, and the metal was dulled as though it needed a good polishing. The hilt was a simple hammered gold and ebony, although upon closer inspection, I realized it might also be brass. I couldn’t imagine it was all that smart to make swords with a gold handle, not when they could be so easily stolen from a knight. With no embellishment, it was a simple, unassuming sword. I liked it, however, because while it wasn’t as long as my fencing foil, it seemed like a sword I’d be able to maneuver comfortably should I need to. “Can I touch it?”
“Of course. You can pick up any of them and test their weight and see if they are a good fit. Once you’ve chosen, we’ll close the rite,” Archie said.
Reaching out, I hovered my hand over the hilt of the sword for a moment and waited, reminding myself that I could turn around and leave. I didn’t owe anyone anything, and even though Uncle Arthur had wanted me to come here, I didn’t have to fulfill his wishes. If I moved forward with this, well, it had to be for myself and no one else. I took just a moment, taking a few careful breaths as I checked in with myself.
Who was I kidding? I wassoin.
Reaching down, I picked up the blade, and immediately, a zip of energy raced up my arm as though I’d stuck my finger in an electrical socket, and a nervous giggle escaped my lips.
“Is that the one?” Matthew came to my side and studied the blade.
“This is a dirk, actually,” Lachlan said, coming to my other shoulder. “While not technically a sword, no proper Highlander would have been caught without one. It’s perfect for hand-to-hand combat and was also used for food preparation and hunting.”
“Oh, should I not…” I looked up at Lachlan, worry in my eyes. “I’m supposed to choose a sword.”
“You’re supposed to choose the blade for you,” Lachlan said, his expression patient as he looked down at me. His words soothed, and I looked back at my blade.
Yes,myblade. It fit me, simple and unassuming yet strong and capable. A blade that could be underestimated by your opponent, I thought, hefting it in my hand carefully. Much like I was, at times.
Not anymore.
Turning, the sword at my side, I smiled at Archie.
“I choose this one.”
“An honorable choice for a Knight of the people.” Archie bowed his head and then motioned for me to come to him. “We’ll now complete the rite.”
We’d already burned the bundles of thistle and recited our chants, so I wondered what came next. I seriously hoped it didn’t involve slicing my hand open and coating the blade in blood or something of that nature.
“Cardamom oil,” Hilda said, coming forward with a small pot in her hands. “For love and clarity of thought.”
“Why love?” I asked, suspicion coating my voice.
“Love is the universal thread that binds all things,” Hilda said, offering the jar. “There is more than just romantic love, my dear.”
“Of course,” I said, feeling foolish. I dipped a finger in the oil and then brushed it where the blade met the hilt, careful not to cut my finger on the sharp edge.
“I, Sophie MacKnight, have chosen my blade. With pure heart, I accept the honor and duties of the First Knight of Caledonia,” Archie intoned.
I repeated his words, staring down at my blade as I did so, gasping when the room went dark when I finished speaking.
Except for my blade. It glowed. And not in a lightsaber neon red kind of glow. But in an ethereal, starlight captured in a jar kind of way. I gasped, hypnotized by the beauty of the pearlescent glow that clung to the edges of the steel, as a cool balm rushed through me.
“The lights will go back on.” I heard myself saying and caught Matthew’s raised eyebrows when the lights blinked back on in the room.
“Interesting,” Archie mused, tapping a finger on his lips.
“Interesting?” I parroted, my eyebrows at my hairline. “I just made the lights go on by command, and my dirk glows in the dark. Andinterestingis all you have to say about it?”
“Yes,” Archie said and left the room.
