will. It’s something I sense, though it pains me to say so aloud. My sister may have moved beyond anything Stone or I might offer her.”
Aron thought about the giant snake he had seen on Stone’s battlefield, the creature who had struck down Lady Mab and left her vulnerable to Kate and Dari’s killing fire. He hoped that wherever Snakekiller was, she understood that most people in Eyrie viewed her as a hero, even if her own guild might be forced, after trials and Judgment, to hunt her as an oathbreaker.
That would not be Aron’s fate.
His heart felt so heavy he didn’t know how he would make his confession to Stormbreaker, but he was determined he wouldn’t put his guild through the spectacle of a trial and combat involving a Stone Brother. He would confess his crimes to his Lord Provost, who in turn would be compelled to mete out the immediate punishment prescribed by the Code of Stone.
Sten il’dur Sten.
“A stone cannot be undrawn,” he whispered to himself, translating the Language of Kings, and filling in its meaning. “To let a Judged go free is Unforgivable.”
Aron lowered himself to the nearest cot, and as Stormbreaker clipped flowers ever more slowly, then finally began to drop the untrimmed stems and petals on the infirmary floor, Aron described what had taken place in the Shrine of the Mother. He explained how he had found his father and why he had let him go and broken his vows to the guild he loved so dearly.
For a time, Stormbreaker stood in silence, with no hint of motion or thought, or even the weather Aron so often sensed when the man was distressed. His greener-than-green eyes gazed out of a window, seeing nothing, yet seeming to see everything too much, and all at once.
“Lord Ross and Dari are likely to pardon Wolf Brailing,” he said at last, his tone too even and quiet as his fingers flexed then released near the hilts of the daggers at his waist. “His actions were born first of the madness that comes with grief, after a horrible crime perpetrated against his family by his own dynast lord. After that, he showed an abiding desire to help the goodfolk his name and bloodline bound him to serve, even though it cost him his son.” Stormbreaker finally looked at Aron, at least long enough to say, “I think that your father may be the only true heir to the dynast seat at Can Rune, and the Circle will be much relieved to hand that seat to him, since the Brailing people already trust him.”
This scenario had never occurred to Aron, but it felt both right and wonderful to him. His father was the only person bearing the Brailing name who fought for the goodfolk, and the people of Brailing, warriors to a one, weren’t likely to forget it.
“It won’t be easy to find him in the Adamantine, or to undo the force of the command I gave him,” Aron said as he made himself stand, “but I think Eyrie’s new Circle and the Stregans may be up to the task.”
Fear wasn’t part of Aron’s mix of emotions as he approached Stormbreaker and knelt before him, lowering his head to expose his neck. He was able to name fatigue and sorrow and shame, but also curiosity, and even hope that he might meet Nic in the next life, or Lord Cobb—even Lord Baldric.
Aron’s heart was beating, beating, and he tried to ignore the wild flow of life through his body, since it so shortly would be brought to an end. It would be messy, doing this here, but also private and less painful for the apprentices who used to be his friends. In the end, it was the right thing, and Aron knew that he at least could be proud of himself for facing the consequences of his actions.
The sharp edge of one of Stormbreaker’s huge, jagged blades bit into the back of his neck, and Aron knew that the Stone Brother was measuring his stroke, so he would need to make only one swift, strong cut.
The cool steel against Aron’s flesh trembled and stung him again, then retreated.
Aron closed his eyes, hoping he would feel little before oblivion claimed him.
When no killing blow sent his head rolling, Aron glanced upward to see Stormbreaker standing, sword raised, tears flowing down his pale white cheeks. His arms shook, and the new benedet on his chin trembled as he said, “I cannot do