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The golden ore that made up the blade whistled as I slowly pulled it free of the sheath at my side. It glowed with an ethereal light in the dimness of the fortress. I twisted the blade, moving it into a fancy arc. I wasn’t the greatest swordsman, but I knew my stuff. I could wield a sword with ease and comfort, even if I didn’t have the battle-aged prowess of Ativan, the dwarves, or even Sahlyn. My bow and dagger were still my preferred weaponry. Butthisblade made me want to be a better swordsman. It made me wishfor battle, to lust for it like a lover's caress. I half hoped for an attack on my person so that I may use the blade for its divine purpose.
Something came over me that I will never be able to explain. I moved to the lip of the forge, and my eyes swept the chasm where a flame should be. Then, without understanding my intentions, I touched the blade's tip to the vein in the stone that once carried the molten flame from the mountain that fired all the forges and created the dwarven weapons. Power hummed in my hand as the sword's hilt vibrated, and the golden light danced around my hand. Then the light slithered down the length of the blade, wrapping around its deadly edge, and out to that vein of stone. My heart jumped in my throat when the golden light erupted, and a spark of amber flame emerged. Slowly the flame drew and met with more veins to other forges.
I heard awhooshas that blaze lit others, and soon the entire fortress was alight with the mountain's fire. The flame of Dunvar once again burst through the fortress of Drommgar.
I stared in awed shock with Heartrender in my hand.
Once the flames simmered to a dull roar, and the glow of my hand and the blade simmered, something shifted behind me, and I glanced over my shoulder. The dwarves from the war room and Sahlyn gawked. The moment felt heavy and monumental.
Argen, grinning like a fool, sauntered to put his hand on my shoulder. Then, slowly, he enfolded me in a hug. I circled my arms around him and breathed in his familiar scent of steel and stone.
King Rimroc stepped forth, his eyes filled with tears as they met mine over his son’s shoulder as we broke apart. Emotion clawed up my throat.
“What have you done, Cursebreaker?”
“I…” I swallowed hard. “I touched the sword to the vein in the rock and—” I waved my hand in emphasis because I had no idea how to explain such a phenomenon.
“If I hadn’t already agreed to what ye asked, I would ‘ave now.”
I gave him a hopeful smile. “I do have one more thing to ask of you.” I glanced between the king and prince. “Of both of you.”
Rimroc raised a bushy brow, and Argen gave me a soft, encouraging smile. Argen would agree blind to anything I asked of him; we shared that much trust.
“I understand if you don't like what I'm about to ask. I know you want your son at your side in battle, and I understand that he's a warrior and will want to fight beside you and your brethren.” I bit my lip. I was asking for a lot in a time like this with war raging. “King Rimroc, I need Argen. I need him with me as I continue my journey because I’m only half who I could be without him at my side.” A tear shivered at my lashes.
Argen cleared his throat twice before he stepped in front of me and bent a knee, his head bowed.
“I will fight at your side without hesitation, girlie. There's nowhere I’d rather be.”
Rimroc nodded his head. “To have a prince bow at your feet and swear fealty is no light feat, child. I hope you understand the gravity of that.” Rimroc’s eyes swept the chamber across the flame that the sword's power in my grip had conjured.
“Ye have me blessing for me son and whoever else ye choose to take with ye to end the reign of the wicked queen without question.”
I dipped my chin to the king before my eyes ran over Argen, who still rested in front of me. Then, with a wry grin, I knelt before him and pulled him into another hug. To think I had disliked him so much when we’d met, to now feel such a deep connection to him.
“Think you can keep up, dwarf?”
“Ye just a wee human girl, it won't be hard.”
I chuckled. Argen stood and extended his hand to me. I took it, and our palms held a moment after he’d pulled me to my feet with the silent oath of trust and honor between friends and comrades. He dipped his chin to me, and I did to him. We were in this together for better or worse. He would lay his life on the line for me and vice versa.
“I would ‘ave fought at ye side without the dramatics of bringing the flame back to our forges, ye know.”
“What does it take for a girl to get a fuckingthank youaround here?”
A loud chorus of guffaws answered me as Rimroc stepped closer and dipped his head in clear chastisement. “My manners are ‘orrible, I'll admit. But, it's been a long time since I've ‘ad somethin’ to be thankful for. Aside from me son.” Rimroc looked at Argen proudly, and hope shined in every eye in the fortress. The king surprised me by gripping my hand and passing a light kiss on my knuckles. I smiled despite myself.
“Ye will always ‘ave me gratitude, Cursebreaker. Even if I fall in battle, I'll die a happy dwarf knowin’ the flame of Dunvar once again flows in the veins of our fortress. I'll go wherever I end up in death with a smile and hope in my heart.”
My throat constricted again, and I could do nothing but smile and nod, too afraid of the threat of tears.
The dwarves resumed their meeting after they had marveled at the flame, going so far as stroking the blazes in one of the forges as if ensuring it wasn't an illusion. Thankfully it wasn’t.
I sat on the bank of one of the small lakes with the Bear Falls cascading against stone and pool. A glorious peace settled around me. I felt the brush of a powerful body behind mine, and I smiled as his scent of dark wood enveloped me. Sahlyn’s arm brushed mine when he pulled his large frame down beside me.
“Quite the show you put on back there.”
I shook my head. “Honestly, I had no idea I could do anything like that. Of course, the sword did most of the work.”
