no ability to work metal. This particular one was a gorgeous intricately-carved blade, obviously the possession of a senior and elite warrior.
She wondered whether it was someone she knew. The truth was that she’d only met a few of the Fae: they avoided her because she was still one of the Others. That would all change when her wager with Maeve was complete. She refused to acknowledge a niggle of doubt that all would go as expected. Hadrian wanted her to doubt Maeve, because that was a better strategic choice for his own survival. It didn’t mean he was right.
Why had the Fae attacked, though? Was it her fault for telling Maeve about the gloves? If they’d come for the gloves, though, they’d failed: Hadrian was still wearing the original pair and they hadn’t even ventured into his studio.
Maybe they hadn’t expected the Pyr to defend themselves so well.
Maybe surprise had been on the Pyr side.
“You got someone important,” she said, instead of sharing the jumble of her thoughts.
“How do you know?” Hadrian asked.
“This blade is highly ornamented and must be rare.” Rania indicated the Celtic knotwork on the hilt and the gem in the pommel. It looked like a star sapphire. There were inscriptions on the blade, too, although she couldn’t read them. “The Dark Queen claims all of the weapons and awards them to her warriors for service and valor.”
“The bigger the blade, the more important the fighter?” Hadrian asked.
“Pretty much,” Rania agreed. “He must have been senior and trusted.” She was thinking, as well, that Maeve would be very unhappy at the loss of a powerful warrior, never mind the loss of the blade. She glanced around, halfway expecting the Fae to slice between realms immediately to regain the sword.
“Are those charms?” the Pyr who looked most like Hadrian asked, pointing to the marks on the blade.
“Probably,” Hadrian said, then glanced at Rania for confirmation.
She nodded agreement. “In most societies, weapons are inscribed with spells to protect the bearer and make his or her aim more true. The Fae are no different.”
“Even though they can’t do the work themselves,” Hadrian noted.
“Didn’t work this time,” the Pyr with the man-bun said, obviously watching her.
“No.” Rania stood and looked around, listening as she scanned the lair.
“You think they’ll come after it,” Hadrian guessed.
“It wouldn’t surprise me,” she admitted. “Because they don’t forge weapons themselves, the Dark Queen doesn’t like to lose a blade.”
“Never mind the question of vengeance,” the other Pyr said grimly.
“There is that.”
“The other sword might have been more important.” Hadrian pointed to a second puddle, which was rapidly evaporating. It was as if the essence of the fallen Fae had to return to their own realm. “The one who escaped back through the portal took that one’s weapon with him.” He frowned. “I barely got a glimpse of it.”
“Me, neither,” said the other two Pyr simultaneously.
“It’s a good thing you weren’t here,” Hadrian said to Rania, his gaze filled with warmth, and she was surprised.
“You’re right. Another one on their side might have influenced the result.” She smiled at him and spun her bichuwa. “You might not have fared so well. Is that why you sent me away?”
“You know it wasn’t,” Hadrian replied with a smile.
His friends looked alarmed.
“Why such senior warriors?” Hadrian mused then flicked a glance her way, his gaze filled with questions. “Maybe they came for you.”
Rania was startled. “The Dark Queen and I have a deal...”
“And it wouldn’t be the first time she made sure she didn’t have to deliver her end of the bargain,” Hadrian said. “It’s a pretty good way to avoid a debt. Just take out the recipient.”
Rania took a step back. “You’re wrong...”
“Believe what you need to.” Hadrian straightened and turned to his friends. “Introductions are past due. This is Balthasar.”
The dragon shifter with the man-bun inclined his head. His hair was dark and his eyes were blue. He was tall and more slender than the others, giving Rania the impression that he was young. She realized she had no way to guess the age of dragon shifters, or even any certainty of how long they lived. How old was Hadrian? He said he’d been waiting two hundred years for his firestorm. Did they wait their whole lives, or only after a certain period of time? She didn’t know: Melissa Smith hadn’t talked about that in the shows Rania had watched.
Maybe they waited for a firestorm after they fell in love the first time. Rania didn’t know where