Page 43 of The Mating Quest
“Whoa. Greatreflexes.”
“Ilana has always had them,” Caderyn mused, getting up and plucking the blade from her grip. “She needed no magick to help others, which is a rare feat in anOther.”
He resumed his seat, cross-legged, and said in a milder tone, “Had you attempted to free them without resorting to the extreme measures you took, you may have accomplished your goal. But you had no faith in your ownabilities.”
That stung, because she suspected the wizard spoke the truth. And if he did, it meant all the pain and suffering she’d endured at the hands of the Dark Fae were fornothing.
It wasn’t for nothing. I have power.She stretched out her fingertips, watched them glow as she sent magick coursing through herveins.
Ethan wasn’t letting it go. “What extreme measures did you take, Ilana, to free theogres?”
She fisted her hands, shuddering with the memories. “I made a deal with a devil forpower. “
Chloe inhaled. But Ethan’s gaze in the firelight, reflecting in his wolf eyes, held no condemnation. “Was it worthit?”
Flexing her fingers she shrugged. “Sometimes it is. Others, I wish I had never done it. Thing about power is, if you don’t use it to help others, you become corrupt. But if you’re mortal and constantly use it to help others, yougrow…”
“Weary,” Tristan finished, looking thoughtful as he studiedIlana.
“What?” she rubbed her cheek. “Do I have marshmallow on myface?”
Tristan glanced at her. “The Brehon talked and we agreed you should be rewarded for what you did, Ilana. Because of you, Ava retrieved the pelt and a suffering goblin is atpeace.”
“Stand, Ilana. I bring you a gift,” Caderyn rumbled and he waved a hand. A silver sword appeared in his outstretchedpalms.
Words escaped her as she stood, staring at theblade.
Her own sword had been broken during a battle with a vicious troll more than twenty years ago. She’d killed the troll, but the sword snapped in half. She had asked Caderyn to incinerate the broken pieces so it would never be used by another, either for fighting evil or for a higherpurpose.
It was too personal. Ilana had carried that weapon forcenturies.
Caderyn stepped forward, balancing the sword in his giant hands. “For you, Ilana. May the blade ever part your path beforedarkness.”
The formal oath rang in her ears. She took the blade, its silver finish winking in the light. Intricate runes were carved into the hilt. Testing it, she was delighted to find it balancedperfectly.
“It was crafted in the forges of the Ancient Ones in Tia Na-nog for your height and weight,” the Shadow Wizard toldher.
She lowered the sword, emotion clogging her throat. “No one has ever given me such a fine gift before. Thankyou.”
Rushing forward, she impulsively hugged the warrior. Caderyn flinched a minute and then patted her back in an avunculargesture.
“You must name it,” Tristan told her. “All good swords havenames.”
She looked up at Caderyn. “What did you nameyours?”
“Tweedledee and Tweetledumber,” Tristanjested.
The Shadow Wizard frowned. “That is what X calls them in jest. My swords are Bás andDíoltas.”
Death and revenge in Celtic. She shivered and held up her blade. “I don’t know what to namemine.”
“A sword’s name should be memorable, and filled with purpose,” he saidsolemnly.
She lifted it to the sky. A shaft of silvery moonlight from the nearly full moon winked upon the steel sword. The stars seemed to dance in the velvet dark sky, whispering secrets. Once she used to lie on her back at night, staring at the stars and making wishes. Those innocent days where long gone, yet with this priceless gift, she felt Caderyn had given her back the light ofhope.
She lifted the blade and it almost seemed to sing to her, with dark, sweetmusic.
“I know.Starsong.”
