Page 39 of Curse of Darkness
“Oh, I don’t think you need to worry about that,” he said, his brows high. “I’m fairly certain he’s going to be focused on trying not to kill Blaedwyn for the next year. After that, however, I think you’re going to have to watch your back. Why didn’t you let him kill the goblins?”
“Again, because he’s capricious and untrustworthy. And I don’t want them dead. I just want them distracted. This way, both the Erlking and Blaedwyn are going to be focusing on each other.”
Mist surrounds the Hallow.
Our voices lower, almost in conspiracy.
It’s colder here. And it almost feels as though there are eyes watching us.
I stare at the sword plunged right into the center of the Hallow.
Whosoever wields it shall never fall in battle. Its swing shall never miss. And it can slice through the strongest of metals in a single blow.
Even as it sings a song of tyranny in your ear.
The last time I held it, I wasn’t ready for the power, the seduction…. I’m still not ready, truth be told. And with the Crown of Shadows already whispering in my ear, I don’t know if I dare bring it into my court.
I close my eyes, picturing the sword in hand.
With the crown and the sword, I’d be unstoppable. Empires would rise and fall before me. Foes would be crushed beneath my heel. Even my mother would fail. I can practically see the look of shock and horror on her face as I swing the sword, and take her head from her shoulders.
Which is why I can never wield both.
Because I know myself well enough to know that that thought was not mine.
I turn to Finn. “The first time I saw this sword, I thought it was meant for Eris’s hand.”
But Eris hosts her own demons, and she too, cannot afford to become unstoppable.
Circling the sword, I listen to the hum vibrating off it. It knows I’m here. Featherlight strokes brush against my psychic senses.
Only my hand can draw the sword.
That doesn’t mean it has to stay there.
Taking a deep breath, I close my hand around the hilt. The shock of it shears through me. Light obliterates the fog, tearing it to pieces, and my hair blows back in the sudden wind as I draw it from the stone.
“Vi?”
The weight of it nearly drives me to my knees. It’s so much more than mere steel. But as I take a deep breath and focus upon it, I managed to lift the point.
Yes,whispers a voice in my head.Let us remake the world.
I turn to Finn.
“Kneel,” I tell him.
A knowing look lights those blue eyes. “You had better not be planning something reckless.”
“Please.”
It’s the “please” that does it. With a sigh, Finn goes to one knee.
I rest the tip of the blade on his right shoulder. “You were bred for war,” I whisper. “You have spent your entire life turning away from it. I know the fight you fight, each and every day. And I know what this sword represents to you.” I shift the sword to his left shoulder. “You have stood at my side, strong and unyielding. You have been there for me at every step of the way, shouldering my burdens when I didn’t understand them, protecting me from harm when I could barely remember you. You are loyal, you are brave, and you are true. And now your queen asks this burden of you. Wield the Sword of Mourning against my enemies. Use it to protect my daughter, my family, my court. Lift it on the field of war against those who will come. If there is any hand that should take this sword, it should be yours.”
Finn’s face pales. “Vi—”
“Promise me,” I tell him harshly. “Promise me you’ll wield it until this is done. And then you will return it. Stand as my knight and ride at my will.”
