What was going on? Why were the blades fighting each other? Then everything clicked. The similarities between their smiles. The same mannerisms and laughter. If Kash had a different persona as a blade, then the lion and hawk had human counterparts as well. Damon and Spencer. Based on his physical characteristics, Damon was the lion.
Kash came up to his back, facing the balcony, and Damon put his armored head down and rushed him. He grabbed Kash around the waist, locking his arms behind his back, and propelled him backward toward the balcony railing.
“Damon, no!” I cried out as he drove Kash off the edge. They both tumbled over and dropped like rocks.
“No!” I screamed and raced toward the ledge
Someone grabbed me around the waist and lifted me off the ground. My feet met the air as I fought to be set back down. I clawed at the black armor with feathers etched on it, and I knew it was Spencer holding me. “Put me down. Let me go!”
“Relax,” Freya’s calm voice came from behind me. “A fall like that won’t kill them. Though it may knock some sense into the boys.” Freya came around to face me.
My heart raced with uncertainty, and I wasn’t sure if I could believe her.
“You can put her down, Spencer. It’s obvious she knows who you are and figured it out. Although, I don’t see how it’s possible.”
My feet suddenly found purchase on the stone floor as Spencer released me. I pushed Freya aside and ran to look over the railing, but I was met with only a valley full of mist.
“They’ll be fine. That cursed armor protects them. The walk back up the mountain will do them some good. Cool off their tempers a bit.”
“You knew?” I turned to look at her in disbelief.
“Of course, I knew. I’m the one that protects their secret.”
“H-how,” I stuttered. “Why?” I collapsed on the nearest chair.
“Blame King Goddrick. It was his lust for the Stiltskin hoard that did this to them. By day they are known as the King’s blades, by night they can walk the halls as their normal selves. It’s why we have strict rules about who is allowed out at night. A few of our key staff and our knight guards.”
“Who are they?” I asked. “What happened to them?”
“They are the king’s three sons, and it is those cursed blades they carry that does this to them. But how or why, I do not know.”
“Then why don’t they get rid of the blades?”
“They’ve tried. Tossed them off the mountain, buried them, burned them. They are indestructible. They slowly go mad unless the blade is touching them at all times. It is their bane and saving grace in one.” Freya turned, her eyes filling with emotion.
“What does everyone think happened to the three princes?” I asked.
She crossed her arms and sighed. “Spencer is studying abroad somewhere. Damon is on a sailing expedition to open the kingdom’s trade routes, and Kash is apprenticing with the Goldiron guild.”
“A little lie to cover up a big lie,” I said.
Freya shook her head and placed her arm on Spencer’s helmed head. The blade bowed, and she seemed to stroke the back of it as though she could comfort them. “It is easier to accept a prince sailing the seas looking for adventure than the demon standing in front of them.”
Spencer looked at Freya and I saw the black shadow over his eyes lessen, and for a moment, I glimpsed his blue eyes. In an act of empathy, I reached out and touched his armor, then let my magic caress it as I tried to get a sense of the material.
He jerked away like he was attacked, and the shadow covered his blue eyes. I saw a flash of red staring back at me. He shuddered and then stood up, his hand reaching for the rapier at his side, and he stalked toward me.
“Get back,” Freya warned and stood in front of me, blocking me from Spencer’s sight, but he wasn’t going to back down.
“Spencer!” Freya commanded. “You must not harm the chosen ones.”
The hawk helm tilted to the side and studied me, then moved around Freya and came toward me.
“It’s my magic,” I said.
“They are ordered to hunt magic users down, but I don’t understand. You’re already at the castle. They’ve completed their orders.” Freya cut off Spencer again, raising her arms upward to protect me.
The darkness behind Spencer’s helm was familiar, and I could feel the hunger reach for me. I knew who was behind the curse.
Just then Gail, Velora, and Brenna entered my room and saw the commotion.
I moved out toward the balcony, and Spencer came after me. I gripped the edge, clawing the railing for dear life.
“Are you sure they can survive a fall?” I asked, seeking confirmation as I watched Velora picked up a giant decorative vase and tiptoe toward us.
“Yes, nothing can kill them,” Freya cried out as Spencer knocked her aside. She fell into the glass door, shattering the pane.
I glanced at the poor women, seeing the bloody cut on her forehead.
“You know,” I called out at to him. “I kinda liked you. I thought we could be friends because of our shared love of books, but you’re being a jerk.” Spencer pulled back. The hand on his sword was shaking. “You just injured the only women who cares about you like a son.”
The shadows faded for a second and I heard his audible cry, but then he was back to being controlled by the mists.
The rapier raised to strike me. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I made a motion with my hand and jumped to the side as a screaming purple-haired mermaid drove toward Spencer’s back. Lifting the stone vase above her head, Velora swung it with all her strength and knocked him over the ledge. I watched his armor smash against a boulder on its way down and I cringed. He slammed against the side of a mountain and continued to fall.
Velora looked over the side and spat. “That’s for Marco!”
“Thank you, Velora,” I said. “And I have news. Marco is alive.”
Velora’s face beamed. “I knew it.” She set the planter down on the ground. I realized by its sheer size it had to weigh more than a hundred pounds, and she easily swung it like it was nothing. I wouldn’t underestimate her again.
“Aunt Freya!” Gail rushed to her when she saw her aunt collapsed on the floor. “What did you do?” she hissed at me.
“I didn’t do this,” I said with a sigh. “It was Spe—I mean one of the blades.”
“Oh no,” Gail wailed. “She’s dead, isn’t she?”
Velora rolled her eyes at the young woman.
Kneeling next to Freya, Brenna brushed her finger across Freya's neck and felt the slow, steady beating of her heart. “She’s not dead,” she scolded. Brenna pressed her hand across Freya’s bleeding forehead and healed the cut on her head.
Gail gasped when she saw the cut close-up. “You healed her.”
Brenna nodded and then released a long, drawn-out yawn. Healing Freya must having exhausted her. “I’m sorry, I need to rest.” Brenna barely made it to the bed before she slipped into a deep sleep.
Moments later, Freya groaned, and her eyes fluttered open. She looked at her niece. “Gail, what are you doing here?”
“I was escorting these two to breakfast when Velora heard the commotion and came running to help. Are you okay?”