“I looked it up once. I was curious one night. And it’s a cold light, one that doesn’t use a lot of energy or produce much heat.” Alasdair smiled. “Not unlike the light of an ice dragon’s firestorm.”
“And just as effective when it comes to mating signals,” Balthasar said, nudging Alasdair. The two were looking at the light of the firestorm, while Hadrian and Rania considered the Fae sword.
An ice dragon’s firestorm. Hadrian had referred to being an ice dragon before, and so did that prophecy. What exactly did it mean?
“If that’s so, why is the light fading?” Rania asked. “There’s a lot of oxygen here.”
Hadrian shrugged. “Maybe because there are no Fae. Maybe it’s sensitive to their presence.”
“Maybe they make it glow,” Rania suggested. She leaned closer, noticing that something white was appearing on the edges of the blade. “What’s that?”
“Hoarfrost,” Hadrian replied, astonishment in his tone. Sure enough, fine crystals of ice were growing from the sharp edges of the sword and slowly covering it.
Rania was intrigued. “Is it freezing?” she asked and Hadrian shrugged, obviously as mystified as she was. “It’s not cold in here, though.”
“No, it’s not.” Hadrian frowned. “This sword is like you.” He flicked a glance her way. “It gives me questions for my questions.”
That didn’t seem to trouble him and Rania found herself blushing a little.
“While you just give me trouble,” she countered and he laughed.
He sobered as he peered at the blade again. “It’s getting dimmer.”
“It’s almost like the light is changing to ice,” she said, frowning.
“Then maybe we should act fast.”
“Excuse me?”
“Maybe we should use the blade sooner rather than later.”
Rania eyed Hadrian with suspicion. “How?”
“These blades open portals between the realms. What if we invite ourselves to Fae? We might have the element of surprise on our side.”
Rania shook her head. “No shortage of verve,” she murmured. Hadrian had a talent for challenging expectations, but this idea troubled her deeply.
“Count me out,” Alasdair said and took a step back.
“You really don’t learn, do you?” Rania asked. “You’ll be invading the realm again. You’ll be cursed again as a result.”
“Ah, but you’re going to kill me anyway,” Hadrian said lightly. “I don’t have much to lose. Maybe I should make these last moments count.”
“I’d like to get on with completing my assignment if you’re done stalling.”
“I’m not. I might never be. After all, I still haven’t convinced you about the merit of the firestorm.”
Rania lifted the bichuwa and took a step closer, just as the glow surrounding the Fae blade winked out. All four of them stared.
“How did you do that?” Balthasar asked.
“I didn’t. At least I don’t think I did. Did you do it?”
Rania shook her head.
“So, it extinguished for some reason,” Hadrian mused. “Too bad. It probably won’t slice open portals anymore.”
“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Alasdair said and Rania was inclined to agree.
“Maybe that’s why,” Balthasar suggested. “Maybe it guessed your plan and made sure you couldn’t do it.”
Hadrian and Rania looked at each other.
“Eithne said the Regalian magick was sentient. If that’s what makes these blades light, it could have decided,” Alasdair noted.
“Whoa,” Hadrian said, picking up the blade with care. It was completely frosted over and was becoming transparent. “I’d love to take this into the studio and examine it more closely.”
“You aren’t going to make more of them,” Balthasar protested.
“No. I want to know how to destroy them.” Hadrian glanced at the bichuwa, then he met Rania’s gaze. “What do you say? One last wish?”
“Another one?”
“Can’t blame a guy for trying.” He leaned closer to her, dropping his voice low. His eyes were sparkling and that smile got to Rania right where she lived. Never mind the steady glow of the firestorm and the effect it had on her thoughts. “How long have you been hunting on Maeve’s behalf?” he challenged.
“A thousand years, give or take.”
“Then what’s another couple of hours?” Hadrian asked. “Let me check out the sword and see what I can learn from it.”
“One track mind,” Alasdair said, nodding at his cousin with obvious affection.
“I thought that track would be the firestorm,” Balthasar murmured.
“Who says it isn’t?” Alasdair replied.
“I shouldn’t,” Rania said, ignoring the two Pyr.
Hadrian wagged a finger at her, his eyes dancing. “But you’re tempted. How long since you’ve surrendered to temptation?”
It was easy to remember the interlude in his bedroom and Rania felt herself blush a little. She wasn’t used to blushing and the unwelcome heat in her cheeks made her feel flustered.