He yanked open the door.
And then, he was gone.
My gut had twisted into such a painful knot, I almost couldn’t breathe. But Cara merely smiled at me.
“He seems to think he has a choice,” she stated. “They all do. He’s not even as difficult as some have been.”
My eyes widened. “How many owners has it had?”
The oven dinged, and she got up. “Wouldn’t call them owners, exactly. I’ve only personally supervised one of them. My mother went through two. When I say the sword has a long history, I mean it.”
I stared at her. “How old are you?”
She snorted a laugh as she pulled out the tray of potstickers. “What a rude question. My species is very long lived, and the Watchers gain even more time through their connection to the lodestones. But I was quite young when I guided the last bearer of that sword. That was about fifteen hundred years ago.”
I gaped at her, and then at the sword, lying quietly in the middle of the table. There was destiny at work here. And if it was true that Riggs had been chosen—who was I, to dream of being with someone like him? Not just a prince, but one chosen to save his Empire.
He wasn’t meant for the likes of me.
And that threatened to tear my heart in two.
“Did it really choose Riggs?” My voice was so husky it didn’t sound normal. “Is he destined to be the next Emperor?”
She placed the potstickers on the table. “It didn’t choose Riggs. It chose Razir. And as for where the Empire is headed, only Fate knows. There are many who would stand behind Tyrez, despite his exile. Razir always had his brother’s back. The two were a team.”
I swallowed, thinking of the Dragon Empire, and the mess it had become. Did the sword think he could save it? “Riggs is no longer that person. He’s not even a Dragon, anymore.”
Cara used a spatula to plunk a few potstickers on my plate. “He can’t shift to Dragon,” she said. “At least, not right now. But in his heart and soul, he still breathes fire. And the sword knows it.”
29
Bree
The sword wasn’t as heavy as it looked.
I had it slung over my shoulder. Cara had insisted that if Riggs refused to carry it, it belonged with another who could draw it. I didn’t fully understand her reasoning—I wasn’t a suitable candidate for it. But I respected her enough to end up shouldering the scabbard anyway.
The burden it represented weighed on me almost as much as it had on Riggs. I wanted to talk about it with Caliel.
What if Riggs refuses to carry the sword?
Fate will not be shunned,he replied.
But he could just walk away.
Riggs is first and foremost a soldier. He believes in the fight for the greater good.Caliel’s mindvoice was faint and distracted sounding.Can we discuss this later? I have my hands full here.
I experienced a pang of guilt.I can send you sword power.
If you draw it now, it will attract too much attention. I am okay, I just do not have time for chatting.
I didn’t consider this issue “chatting”, but at least we were communicating. Until he withdrew, and I found my feet carrying me to the library, as if the information it contained could lighten the load.
Once there, I wandered the shelves, passing over books I’d already perused and selecting some that I hadn’t. I was moving from one aisle to the next when something caught my eye.
Or rather, someone.
A striking young man with coppery skin and black hair sat at a table tucked in a corner.
