Funny. I’ll spend eternity with Andvari in that disgusting hole, but if given the choice of drowning in that puddle again . . . I wouldn’t change a thing. I should remember that. I might not think so in a century or two.
Tesh picked up the blades. He couldn’t help feeling better the moment he held them. Looking across at Sebek, everything seemed so familiar. Still, his arms felt heavy.
Didn’t I do this already?
“Can’t expect enemies to be courteous and only attack when you’re prepared,” Sebek said, stepping forward with a great smile on his face. “Sometimes they catch you off guard in awkward places where you can’t retreat.”
Yes—but that was when I was on a bridge and Brin had saved me. She can’t do that this time.
“So, you saw me kill your parents that day,” Sebek said. “Your mother—she had some sort of shawl, didn’t she? A miserable ratty cape that was dyed the color of clay, or was it just filth? I remember because I wiped Lightning on it after I cut her head off. Did you see that? I kicked it out of the way, I think. Did you see it roll? I seem to recall it wobbled with her long hair dragging behind.”
Tesh felt his fists tighten on the sword grips, his feet striding forward without being told.
Sebek’s grin grew. “I’m lying, of course. Honestly, Tesh, I really don’t remember. How could I? I killed hundreds just like her. But you know what I think? I think even you don’t remember. Not really. Such an important thing to you, but it’s been so long, and you’ve colored that day to suit your aims, to justify your life since then. I bet you aren’t sure anymore, are you? Did Mommy have a shawl? Did I kick her head? Did she even have long hair, or was it short? Was it tied up that day? Tell me, Tesh, what good is revenge when neither one of us can even remember what it’s for?”
Sebek performed practice swings, just as fast as ever.
Tesh didn’t bother. He didn’t want Sebek to know how weak he was.
“Now you, I remember. Every detail of your visit to my sickbed. Of how you—”
Tekchin shoved his long, thin blade through Sebek’s back. The tip poked out of the Fhrey’s chest. Sebek froze, hovered, then collapsed.
Tekchin kicked Thunder and Lightning away. “I was going to let you fight him for a while, for laughs, you know? But he was talking way too much. What a brideeth eyn mer. Help me drag his ass to the pit. I don’t want to be near him when he wakes up.”
“How long does it usually take?”
“To wake up?” Tekchin shrugged. “No idea.”
Tesh looked down at Sebek lying on his face. “If we cut his head off, will it take longer?”
Tekchin shrugged.
They grabbed Sebek’s arms, spinning his body around. “Let’s just get him in the hole. Won’t matter then.”
Together, they lugged Sebek to where the marble floor faded into the rough dull rock of reality. The effort exhausted Tesh.
“You all right?” Tekchin asked.
Tesh shook his head. “I thought—” Tesh paused. “Why’d you do it?”
Tekchin smirked. “Certainly not for you, but I have a woman, and she has this friend she thinks of as a little sister, who cares about you, and . . . well, you did step in the pool.”
“Didn’t the queen—didn’t Ferrol interrogate you?”
Tekchin shook his head. “The queen only knows the rumor that Gelston had spread. He wanted people to think better of Tressa, I guess, and he proclaimed that she and others would bring the key into Phyre. Orin had reported seeing seven in Drome’s palace—he said one was a warrior. When you were spotted in Nifrel, she assumed the warrior in Drome’s palace was you. I walked into Nifrel alone. No one even asked how I got here. I bumped into Eres and his brother Medak up by the gate. They were searching for Tressa and the others. They assumed you killed me.”
Together, they rolled Sebek over the edge and heard a cry from below.
“Andvari!” Tesh called. “You all right?”
“Aye, but you nearly crushed me!”
Tesh found the coiled rope and kicked it over the edge.
“What are you doing?” Tekchin asked.
“Grab onto that, Andvari,” he shouted down, then looked back at Tekchin. “I promised the dwarf I’d get him out if I survived.”
“Seriously? We don’t have time for this. We need to get out of here.”
“He doesn’t deserve to be left down there. You know, if you’re in such a hurry, you might consider helping.”
Tekchin rolled his eyes, but he also took a grip on the rope and together they pulled.
The dwarf was light, and they hoisted him out to the marble where he flopped like a caught fish.
“Can you walk?” Tesh asked.
“Who knows,” the dwarf said, pushing to his feet.
“Skip walking,” Tekchin said. “Time to run.”
The dwarf looked miserable, but Tesh couldn’t help smiling. He could have shown more empathy given that he’d felt the same way.
“Yeah—all right,” Andvari said. “Centuries in here and I keep forgetting: not real legs. Aye, I can walk.”
“Ready?” Tesh asked.
Andvari pursed his lips. “Ya realize there’s little chance of us getting away. This is her world, after all.”
“Not only that,” Tekchin added, “but the queen will be in a really bad mood if she loses this battle. And she’ll take it out on us.”
The dwarf forced a tight smile. “That, too.”
“You could just stay in the hole,” Tesh said.
“No, this is better.” The dwarf jogged forward, following Tekchin. “At least it’s different.”
“Yeah”—Tekchin chuckled—“this will definitely be different.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
The Sword of Words
The Killian boys always made me smile. I thought they were handsome and gallant. They flirted with Moya but never noticed me. Still, I loved them. After years of fighting, all save Brigham were dead, each, along with their father, lost to the war. Whenever I see Brigham Killian these days, I cannot smile . . . I cry. — The Book of Brin
Brigham, the last living son of Gavin Killian, dipped the linen rag in the oil bowl, then applied it to the sword. He rubbed the metal carefully for two reasons. First, the blade, which was known as the Sword of Words, was a precious relic and deserving of special care, and second, it was incredibly sharp. He’d already nicked himself once, and he didn’t want to do that again.
This was the first sword, the one Persephone had brought back with her from the dwarven lands, the one she had used to cleave Shegon’s blade in half, establishing her claim as keenig. It was also wielded on the plains of Dureya in the Battle of Grandford by the already legendary hero Raithe, son of Herkimer. But perhaps the Sword of Words’ greatest claim—from which it drew its name—was its magical nature. Enchanted by Suri the Mystic, it had once been used to kill a dragon. The markings were still on the blade. Brigham could feel them as he rubbed the oil into the metal—little grooves and lines along the flat, otherwise flawless surface.
This is a dragon-slaying blade, he thought. Perhaps the only one.