CHAPTER FIVE HUNDRED and FORTY-SIX
Friday night — 10:05 p.m.
Heather softly closed the door to the basement apartment they were staying in at the Castle. She took a step in the apartment when Blane came out of the bedroom to greet her. He left the door slightly open so they would hear if Mack or Wyn cried. He helped her out of the backpack she’d been carrying.
Hoping not to wake the kids, they pantomimed whether she needed something to eat. She shook her head. She pointed to the other room and Blane nodded. Tink was in her room. Nodding, she pointed to the bathroom. She used the bathroom, changed into her sleeping clothes, and came out into the living area. Blane had pulled the bed out from the couch. He was in bed reading when she got out of the bathroom.
She grabbed her tablet computer and climbed into the bed. Blane set down his book. They scooted across the bed so that their heads were close. She turned on the tablet and opened the photo gallery.
“This is the one he was working on when I got there,” Heather whispered.
The photo showed a small, ornate sword. It was crusted with priceless jewels on the hilt. The blade was delicate and viciously sharp.
“It’s called the ‘Fairy Princess,’” Heather said. “I guess there’s a great controversy among the swords masters whether it exists. Neither Pierre nor his father believed it existed.”
“It’s very beautiful,” Blane said. “Why is it so controversial?”
“It’s imbedded with some kind of life and death curse,” Heather said. “The blade gives the owner near immortality while ensuring death to anyone the blade is used against.”
“Wow,” Blane said.
“Mari said that it was a bride present from a minor God,” Heather said. “Shiva killed him for using this level of magic for a weapon.”
“But not her?” Blane asked.
“Edie worked it out with Shiva,” Heather said. “It wasn’t Mari’s fault that this God had the blade created.”
“But she still owns it,” Blane said.
“That’s part of the agreement,” Heather said. “Shiva can call on Mari and the blade whenever, if ever, he needs it.”
“Has he needed it?” Blane asked.
“I don’t think so,” Heather said. “I’m not sure. I have some vague memory of this whole drama when it happened. It was a long time ago.”
“What was Nelson doing with it?” Blane asked.
“He said it needed tuning,” Heather said. “I’m not sure what that is besides sharpening. Mari seemed happy with the results.”
Heather clicked the photo and it switched to another picture of a sword.
“This is Edie’s sword,” Heather said. “He thought it was called the ‘Head remover’ or something like that. It’s named in Old Norse, so …”
“He said that this blade was known for taking the heads of anyone it approached,” Heather said. “While I was there, Edie came to get the sword. She told him that she hadn’t taken a head in a long, long time. He wasn’t convinced. He said that the very essence of the blade was to remove heads.”
Denver Cereal continues tomorrow…
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