Page 20 of A Broken Blade


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“Which one?” I asked even though I knew who she meant.

“The Bow,” Gerarda answered, using Hildegard’s proper title with a glance back at the Shades. Gerarda saved her disrespect for me.

“Very well,” I said. I tapped the side of my horse and started to trot along the curved wall of the capital.

“Wait!” Gerarda called after me. She spun on the tips of her toes and took a dainty step toward my horse. “I am to escort you there.” She motioned for the Shades to take hold of the reins.

“I do not need a babysitter,” I spat, jumping off the saddle. Without a word, the two Shades mounted the horse together and rode toward the first gates.

“Think of it more as a guide,” Gerarda said, rolling her eyes. When I didn’t move to follow her, she turned back around. “Keera, she would like to speak tobothof us. And for the record, I don’t appreciate being sent to fetch anyone. Least of all you.” Her arms were locked at her sides, fists balled inside her leather gloves.

At least we both weren’t happy about this.

She spun around, her Arsenal cloak leaving a trail of black behind her. I kept my distance as we traveled along the outer wall of the city toward the sea. We walked in silence until I could taste the brine in the air. My ears focused on the familiar hum of waves crashing against the rocks that surrounded the coast. Gulls flew in lazy circles above our heads, swooping down into the water to hunt. My boots stepped into the wet sand of low tide as we reached the blunt end of the wall.

There it was.

The Order.

The mirror image of the king’s palace, only smaller, placed on its own tiny island like a child’s play set. Though the island was no place for children. It was where the strongest female Halflings were sent to train as initiates. And then, if they were strong enough, as Shades.

I had not stepped foot on that island in over two years. My stomach churned violently with each step I left in the sand. The Order was the backdrop of too many of my nightmares. I thought about running toward the palace instead. There, I would find my chambers, my bath. Gwyn. I could pull rank and tell Hildegard that she could meet me there.

But I didn’t. I tramped behind Gerarda, wiping my brow with the inside of my sleeve. Summer was fading but the suns were still hot, and my body was wrecked from a fortnight without a drink. My knees ached every time my foot sunk too low in the sand.

I heard Gerarda’s footsteps clink against the glass and looked up. She was standing on the only way to access the island. The Forbidden Bridge. A long glass arch that suspended over the channel between the palace grounds and the island. Only Shades were allowed to use it—not that it mattered. The bridge was not completed but ended high above the swirling water and three hundred feet from the island’s shore.

The gap was filled with several small posts made of the same stone as the Order. They protruded out of the waves at different heights, scattered across the chasm. Only someone skilled enough to maneuver across them would find themselves on the island’s shores.

Gerarda moved first. She leaped onto the closest pillar, somersaulting in midair. The flair was for my benefit. She jumped deftly from one pillar to the next, some only as wide as her foot, but she never faltered. She pranced across the gap like a dancer. Within seconds she crossed to the other side.

I did not have Gerarda’s grace. I bolted toward the end of the bridge, pushing off the edge into a long leap. My legs cycled under me, propelling me forward. I landed on a middle pillar and ran across the posts. With long strides, I pushed off one to the next in an exaggerated run. I launched myself off the last one, twisting in the air and landing with my feet cemented to the ground.

Gerarda popped her jaw to one side and crossed her arms. We both lowered our hoods before starting toward the front entrance of the Order. This was the only place a Shade could shed her shadow.

We marched up the large staircase and then another. Hildegard’s study was in the middle tower. I had to stop halfway up. My hands gripped my knees as I fought the urge to vomit. My eyes squeezed shut trying to dampen the throbbing ache behind them. I thought after a fortnight the withdrawal would have lessened, but beads of sweat still poured out of my skin. My parched throat ached for something other than water to douse the pain.

Gerarda sniffed loudly. Her foot tapped at the top of the stone staircase. Behind her stood a statue of an Elvish warrior. The statue was dressed in leathers stitched with each of the elements across her limbs and torso. I instinctively pulled at my sleeve knowing the same pattern was carved into my skin. My hidden rebellion against the Crown was not safe to reveal to anyone, even to those I had spent my life training beside. No one could know I didn’t fear that lost part of myself, the Elvish part, like I had been told to. Instead I reclaimed it in my own way with every name I etched into my skin.

I caught my breath and slowly climbed the remaining stairs. Gerarda’s eyes paused on the red circles around my eyes and my clammy skin. She bit both her lips, setting them into a straight line. I waited for a snarky retort, but she said nothing.

Gerarda knocked on the Bow’s door twice.

“Come in,” a voice commanded from inside the room.

Hildegard stood at her desk with her arms held behind her back. She’d held the same stance whenever I had gotten in trouble as an initiate. I had spent a lot of time in the mistress’s office then. Her gray hair was pinned back in a low bun, tugging at the wrinkles that framed her eyes. She was only fifteen years older than me, but she looked like an old woman, whereas I could disguise myself as a young maiden of twenty.

I gave a slight bow before I took my usual seat. Gerarda did not sit but stood beside the small window, facing us and the door all at once. Ever the perfect soldier, especially in front of her favorite teacher. Gerarda had always been a kiss-ass.

“Glad to see you back on the island, Keera,” Hildegard said. Her nose twitched as a breeze from the window blew my scent toward her. I scowled. She was the one who insisted on the urgent meeting.

“We’ve kept your office clean for you,” she added, gesturing to the door across the hall. I had never stepped foot inside it, and I never would.

“No need,” I said. “I’ve spent enough time in these halls. Besides, I would only get in your way. We wouldn’t want that; you do such a wonderful job with the initiates.” My voice was thick with sarcasm, but it was true. Hildegard was a strict mistress, but a fair one. Any Halflings in her charge were safe.

“Not like it’s your job or anything,” Gerarda mumbled from the window. She mimicked Hildegard’s stance. Back straight as an arrow with her hands resting behind her.

“As the Blade, my job is to run the Arsenal as I see fit, Gerarda,” I replied coolly. “The Bow and the Arrow have never complained about their duties training the Shades. Have you?” I raised a brow to Hildegard. My eyes locked on the silver bow she wore as a broach on her tunic.

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