Page 104

It’s ridiculous to be bantering like this when we stand on the edge of a precipice, and yet it also feels like one of the things that might help us stay calm enough to take the leap. If we think too much about what’s waiting for us in Irnua, I worry I won’t find the courage to go at all. Still, my eyes fall back to my work. Even Ruskin’s flirting can’t make me forget my part in all this.

The Seelie still had some lead suits from the battle of Cavalil, but many were damaged in the fight—unsurprising, since lead is pretty terrible at offering actual protection against projectiles. Plus, we need enough to cover the Low Fae too, now that the resistance has pledged to join us at Irnua with the High Fae. So naturally, I’ve been in my workshop the last few hours, frantically trying to make up the numbers.

Ruskin drops his chin to the crook of my neck, murmuring persuasively in my ear.

“You need to rest now, Ella,” he says. The joking tone is gone, and I can hear the worry threatening to overwhelm him.

“I will. I think I’m finished, anyway,” I say, checking over the stacks of shaped metal. “It’s amazing how much faster things are now that I’m a bit stronger and know what I’m doing with my magic.”

They aren’t the most elegant pieces in the world, but they will get the job done. The Low Fae will be able to go onto that battlefield without immediately collapsing from cold iron sickness.

“Come on,” Ruskin says, starting to drag me away from the workshop.

“Wait. I just need one more thing.” When Ruskin sees what I’ve retrieved from beneath the workbench, his eyes brighten with emotion. He nods in understanding, and we proceed to his quarters.

General Sunshard has set up a war room in Ruskin’s library with her husband, busy organizing the troops at Ruskin’s request, picking lieutenants and ensuring we have enough horses and weaponry. They’re discussing formations with Kellspring when I push my way in, but the General stops speaking to give me a questioning look.

“How comes the armor?” she asks.

“We should have enough,” I say, and she nods approvingly.

“There’s something else, General, Lord Sunshard.” I address both of them, stepping forward and holding out the object I retrieved from deep beneath the palace a few hours ago.

“My old sword,” the General says, her usually firm voice cracking ever so slightly. Her husband hurries forward and takes it from me, reverently passing it to his wife.

“Since we couldn’t bury Halima with it, I thought you might want it back,” I say quietly. I hadn’t brought it up before because I was worried Evanthe might’ve done something with it. But I found the sword still lying where Halima dropped it the day she died.

The General closes her hands around the handle.

“I don’t know if Halima ever fully explained, but we Sunshards form a deep connection with our weapons,” she says, her eyes on the blade. “So much so that we can only pass them on to someone closely tied to us. The magic in the blade will reject them otherwise. The day I gave this to Halima, I knew there was no worthier recipient. Not because she was my child, but because she embodied everything we had taught her so well.” She lifts her eyes from the sword to meet my gaze. “Thank you,” she says. “It is almost like seeing my daughter again.”

I don’t pretend to fully understand the connection the General describes, but I knew this would mean something to Halima’s parents, and I feel glad I could do something for them. It seems such a small gesture, in return for the lives Halima saved in sacrificing her own.

That important job completed, I let Ruskin gently guide me out of the library to his room, where I collapse onto the bed.

“Sleep,” he orders. “If only just for ten minutes. We have time.”

Despite Ruskin’s order, I can’t sleep. Instead, I stare up at the enchanted ceiling of his room, watching clouds scud across a light blue sky. I think about the Sunshards at work in the library. It hadn’t occurred to me until recently how much preparation war requires. I wonder if any of it can possibly be enough, especially when we still don’t have any weapon that can win against Evanthe and her dark magic.

“If we did beat her, what then?” I ask, still looking upwards. “Will you be able to put your name back on the stone, even though she took it off?”

“Yes. She’s proof that the stone will re-accept names that have been removed. Why? What are you thinking?”

“I’m just trying to understand how the High Monarch power works, seeing if I can find any weaknesses, because as long as Evanthe’s heart is protected?—”

I sit up, the idea hitting me like a two-ton ursinian.

“Ruskin, how did Cebba curse your heart?”

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“You were High King when Cebba cursed you, right?”

“Correct. Newly so, but I wouldn’t have been able to banish her without a magical connection to the kingdom.”

“But that’s exactly it. I can imagine the High King power allows you some pretty impressive protections. So how was Cebba able to curse you? How did she get past your defenses?”

Ruskin thinks this over. “Well, she hadn’t actually been banished yet when she cursed me. She was still a subject of the Seelie Court.”