Age of Swords (The Legends of the First Empire #2)

“Minna.” They heard Suri’s soft, fracturing voice. “Minna…remember the time we came home and found Tura lying in the garden…”

Persephone led Roan and Brin back outside to where Gronbach waited with his soldiers. He looked at them suspiciously. “Is it done?”

“Almost,” Persephone said.

The release of power threw the great gates of Neith back to their full reach, as if they were nothing more than a pair of bedroom doors.

A cloud of dust blocked out the sun for a moment, at least for those near the entrance. Everyone stared at the opening, waiting. Several minutes passed, and just when Persephone was about to go in to make sure Suri was okay, the mystic walked out. She was covered in a fine powder of dust, except on her cheeks where rivulets glistened untouched. Sobbing, Suri clutched the blade to her chest with both hands.

Gronbach stared at the mystic in disbelief. He glanced at his soldiers, then back at Suri as if not quite able to accept what he was seeing. Suri didn’t fit anyone’s expectation of a dragon slayer. He gestured to one of his men, who ran inside to verify that the dragon wasn’t there. It didn’t take long for him to return and nod.

Then Gronbach gestured, spoke something in the Dherg language, and once more Persephone found herself restrained by the little dwarfs.

“Are you really such a fool?” she shouted at him. “We’ve killed Balgargarath and a dragon. And you still aren’t honoring your word?”

Gronbach chuckled. “You’re the foolish one. If I lied before, what makes you think I wouldn’t again? It’s best you die, as you are obviously too stupid to live.” Noticing the sword Suri held, he added, “And I see you lied about the magic sword being consumed.”

He focused on the blade with greedy eyes and held out his hand. “Give it to me.”

Suri looked at Gronbach, as if noticing him for the first time. “It has her name on it.” She tilted the blade so he could see the markings.

“I don’t care whose name is on the thing, little girl. It’s mine.”

“But it has her name on it,” Suri repeated, louder this time.

Gronbach rolled his eyes. “She’s simple, is she?” He shook his head and reached out, grabbing hold of the pommel as Suri clutched the blade even tighter. As they struggled in their tug-of-war, the ground began to shake.

A giant slab of rock, one of the pair that formed the gates of Neith, slipped free and fell, exploding in a burst of dust. The towers of Esbol Berg began to shudder and teeter. Stones slipped free of their ancient moorings, and a giant block the size of a roundhouse plummeted, crashing down the hillside.

Gronbach let go.

The moment he released the sword the shaking stopped.

He looked at the place where the stone had crashed and then up at the towers.

“It has her name on it,” Suri repeated, oblivious to the earthquake that had nearly brought the ancient city of Neith down around them.

Gronbach looked from the great edifice of the Dherg’s ancestral home to Suri. He stared deep into the mystic’s eyes, then shook his head. “That’s not possible.”

He reached out again.

“Gronbach, don’t!” Persephone shouted. She tried to stop him, but couldn’t break free of the hands holding her.

He was more forceful the second time, and wrenched the weapon free of Suri’s little hands, giving her a shove backward in the process.

Overhead, thunder cracked, and dark clouds covered the sun.

Suri glared at the dwarf. She was muttering, her fingers flexing. To anyone who didn’t know better, they might think she was merely angry, that she cursed him under her breath.

“Gronbach, give her back the sword! Now! Hurry!”

He ignored Persephone as he studied the weapon.

The wind rose. Dust and dirt swirled.

“Suri, don’t—” Persephone started to say.

The jolt was so abrupt that Persephone had to lean on the dwarf holding her just to keep standing. “Oh, blessed Grand Mother!” she exclaimed as snaps, cracks, and loud booms escaped from the open gate of Neith, deep painful groans issuing from that ancient mouth.

What had survived thousands of years of warfare, erosion, and the presence of a demon named Balgargarath didn’t survive the retribution of a teenage girl. In minutes, the legendary Belgriclungreian city of Neith fell. Weakened pillars, unequal to the task of supporting so grand a roof, broke, and the weight of the mountain came crashing down. They felt the shudder and jolt through the ground, the collapse of hollow places beneath their feet. To either side, the great towers of Esbol Berg listed, staggered, then fell. One dropped toward the sea, where the top destroyed one of the docks and raised an enormous wave that lurched ships, slamming some so hard they shattered against the docks. The other great tower imploded, collapsing in a huge plume of dust and bursting stone. The cloud of debris blew out over them. The gust of wind and shower of pebbles shoved Persephone to the ground, and the dwarf behind her let go.

The world disappeared into darkness, a hazy cloud of fragments. Persephone couldn’t see Suri, Brin, or Roan, all of whom had been right beside her. She pulled up the sleeve of her dress to breathe through and covered her eyes. “Suri! Stop it! Suri! Suri!”

The ground settled. The shaking stopped, and for a long moment, there was silence. Not a voice, not a bird, not a bee broke the hush. The only sound was the soft pattering rain of tiny stones. By the time the wind drove the dust to the sea, the sun was shining again. A coating of powdered rock covered them. Brin coughed, struggling to wipe her eyes clear.

The soldiers who had escorted them were gone. Persephone saw the sunlight glinting off their armor as they ran down the slope. Gronbach himself remained exactly where he had been. He still held the sword, his face a display of disbelief.

“It has her name on it,” Suri said for the fourth time. “You can’t have it.”

The mystic held out her hand.

“For all the gods’ and everyone else’s sake, give…it…back,” Persephone said.

Gronbach continued to stare in shock. Maybe he was too frightened to move. Persephone could understand that. She was a bit on the terrified side herself. But she knew Gronbach by now. He doesn’t want to lose.

“Give it back, and we’ll get on a ship and leave. And Mari help you if any harm has come to Moya or Arion; Suri’s even more fond of them than she is of that blade.”

Gronbach looked to Persephone and nodded. He handed the sword to Suri who clutched it to her chest.

“Unlike you, I’m a woman of my word. It’s time we left,” Persephone said as she walked past Gronbach down the road toward Caric.

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