CS - Chapters 1 to 5

Chapter 1

The tapestry behind the scribe hung from the stone wall like a broken arm, and I tilted my head to match its slant. The battle scene from Jasper Pass had faded, the old thread around the bleeding wounds more brown than red now.

A figure stood at the front of the battle, a black sword above their head, while an entire mountain collapsed. I hummed The Hero of Jasper Pass under my breath, but Dad, standing beside me, heard and shook his head.

Sighing loudly, I stopped humming. In a few minutes I would get my own sword, and maybe someday they’d make tapestries of me. I bet no one told the Hero of Jasper Pass to quit humming.

The rest of the room’s stone walls were bare, except for shakers, which sat in holders and provided weak light. Dad and I were last in line, and it had taken us all morning to move the fifty-foot length of the room. The doors at each end were iron, reinforced with steel. Strong doors to protect the Kingdom’s most prized weapons. Weapons so powerful they could speak and more.

The faint sound of bells squeezed through the thick stone walls. I imagined the teens outside hurrying to their next class, excited to learn the fighting secrets taught here at the Bonded Academy.

Wiping my palms against the rough cotton of my pants, I glanced up at Dad. His black hair had greyed at the edges, and his tanned skin almost hid the stained “V” on his forehead that marked him as a farmer. He looked down at me and smiled, but I didn’t return it. My stomach twisted, and I rubbed my belly with a fist to make it stop.

“Relax,” Dad said.

I took a deep breath, trying to clear my mind and slow my heart like Mom made me do when my thoughts swirled. Dad and I were next. My chance had finally arrived.

Dad leaned down and whispered into my ear. “Remember to leave out Mom’s part from your name. It will only cause problems here.” Dad paused for a second and then added. “Whisper it under your breath though.”

Whisper it? That was an odd thing to say. My heart thudded faster, and I took another deep breath. Mom came from across the southern desert, from Kahndire. Technically we were at war with them, but the desert made actual fighting impossible.

People still feared the Kahndire though, and I didn’t see the point in trying to hide my heritage since my eyes gave me away.

I nodded so Dad wouldn’t tell me again.

The sandy-haired girl in front of us stepped away from the desk and strode toward the iron door, her parents right behind her. The three of them wore spun-cotton pants and shirts and had matching green vests. The clothes looked expensive to me, but they probably weren’t by Capital standards. The girl loudly knocked three times on the metal door.

The door slid sideways into the wall, but the girl and her family blocked my view of the Hall of Glory. A place I’d heard about in hundreds of stories. In a few minutes I would enter, like every other kid my age, and it would be the only time I’d ever see it.

The girl hugged her parents, rolled her shoulders, and stepped through the opening. The door slammed shut as soon as she entered. The parents exchanged hopeful glances and then quickly marched out the way we’d all entered.

“Next!” the scribe said.

Dad stepped forward, and I followed. For the first time I got a good look at the scribe.

Instead of the simple black square that most scribes of the Archive Tower had stained on their foreheads, this scribe had drawn an open book. The book’s pages had faint writing in a red stain. Above the book a carefully drawn open eye marked him a Seeker.

I wondered if he’d ever found or recovered an epic weapon. He must really think a lot of himself to make such an effort with his profession marking. Details like that probably required a touch up every few days.

Next to the drawn book a blue dot sat over a red one, displaying the scribe’s rank. I raised my eyebrows at this. The fewer the dots the higher the rank, which meant this scribe was important. I guess the Archive Tower took this monthly ceremony seriously.

“Name?” the scribe asked not bothering to look up.

I glanced at Dad, and he nodded.

“Cevin Glasach,” I said. A heartbeat later I whispered, “Alor’Lyphe.”

The scribe looked up and my breath caught. Had he heard me whisper Mom’s family name? His bald head glistened with sweat and his brown eyes revealed his boredom. “You’re named after a number?”

My cheeks grew hot, and I shook my head. “C-E-V-I-N.”

The scribe shrugged and looked down at his book. “You’re twelve?”

“On the seventeenth of last month,” I said.

The scribe flipped through his thick book. “Glasach, Glasach, Glasach,” he kept mumbling. “Here we are.”

The scribe stared at the page and then looked up at my dad. “Samniall?”

Dad nodded.

The scribe stood, glanced at the tapestry behind him, and then stared at Dad. His hands trembled. “Please forgive us. Had we known, you would’ve been first.”

Dad held up his right hand, his calloused palm outward. “There is nothing to forgive.”

The scribe placed his palm against Dad’s and bowed a little. “Please call me Gavyn. I am truly sorry.”

“Peace, Gavyn,” Dad replied.

Gavyn leaned back and scanned Dad up and down. “Is it here?”

“No,” Dad said.

Gavyn sighed and his hands stopped trembling. He sat and bowed his head as if saying a prayer. After a moment he focused back on his book and ran a finger down the page. What did Dad have that made Gavyn so nervous?

“Cevin is your fifth?” Gavyn asked.

“Yes,” Dad responded.

I was the youngest, something my siblings never let me forget. Especially Liadh. He’d liked being youngest and hated that I’d been born. He still teased that Mom and Dad disliked me so much, they hadn’t even given me a proper name, just my number in the family.

“I’d like to update your entries,” Gavyn said.

Dad tensed but I doubted Gavyn noticed. You had to be really observant to see Dad’s emotions. “Tomyd is still missing. His commander believes the Estrians captured him.”

Waves of sadness and worry washed over me, and I bit the side of my tongue. The pain helped refocus my thoughts.

Gavyn closed his eyes, mumbled a short prayer, and then looked up at Dad. “Your family has sacrificed much.”

Dad nodded and then continued. “Beitris fights in the North with the Third Ranger Legion. Muir fights with the Fifth Scouting Cohort in the West. Liadh is in warrior training at East Keep. Cevin is still at home.”

An epic weapon in the Hall of Glory needed to choose me. Otherwise, how could I rescue my brother, and end the wars so my sisters could come home? Then my dad would smile more and Mom could laugh again and we could all be happy.

“Your wife?” Gavyn asked, not looking up.

“No changes.”

Gavyn scribbled in his book and then swallowed hard. “It says here that you are now a…doctor.”

“Soil doctor,” Dad clarified.

“Dirt is interesting.”

“Dirt?” I asked.

Gavyn looked up at me. “What?”

Dad stared at me, and my cheeks burned. “Nothing, I thought someone said dirt.”

Dad travelled all over the Kingdom teaching farmers how to take care of their soil and why they should change crops every year. Since Dad had started food shortages had been rare even with three wars going on.

“Are you ranked with any weapons?” Gavyn asked.

I clenched my hands, and my knuckles popped. Dad had trained my brothers and sisters on all kinds of weapons: swords, bows, maces. But not me. My siblings had all come here ranked in at least two weapons, not that it had helped them. None of them had been chosen by a weapon from the next room.

But it didn’t make me feel any better about Dad excluding me. Instead, I studied with Mom; reading, meditating, stupid stretching, and running. Boring. Weapon training would’ve been interesting and given me an advantage. It only made sense that a weapon would want to bond with someone that knew how to appreciate and use them.

My throat had closed, and I couldn’t talk, so I shook my head.

“This dirt could use some acid. It has too much calcium.”

Gavyn and my dad hadn’t spoken, but the voice had sounded nearby, like someone had spoken into my ear. It sounded a little like Mom’s voice when she got frustrated and her accent came back. Glancing around I verified no one else remained. Where had the voice come from?

I took three deep breaths and tried to clear my mind. I wished I’d kept more of my breakfast down because the lack of food had affected my hearing.

“Milkweed would love it.”

This time I half-turned and studied the nearby walls, before rubbing my temples in confusion.

“Are you okay?” Dad asked.

I dropped my hands and nodded. “Yes, just…I’m fine.”

Dad stared at me for three seconds and then nodded.

“You have a choice, Cevin,” Gavyn said. “You don’t have to do this.”

No one would force me to enter the Hall of Glory. People had gone crazy from trying to bond a weapon, died even. Walking in there would be a risk. But it could change my life. I could become a hero. Rescue my brother. Fight in one of the wars with a legendary weapon. Maybe if a powerful weapon chose me, I could end a war. Maybe all the wars.

“I want to try,” I said.

Gavyn looked at Dad. “You can join him. It is your right.”

Dad shook his head. “Once was enough.”

Gavyn nodded, scribbled, and then looked up. “Good luck, Cevin.”

Dad and I walked to the iron door, and Dad grabbed my shoulders. “What happens in that room doesn’t change who you are.”

“I know.”

“If you are chosen or not it doesn’t matter.”

I nodded.

“I’ll be waiting on the other side,” Dad said.

Dad hugged me, but I remained stiff, my mind filled with worry. He let me go and strode back the way we’d come. I turned and faced the iron door. Silver flakes, like freckles, spotted the door. Probably nickel.

I concentrated on my breathing, inhaling and exhaling for the same amount of time. Dad said having a weapon didn’t matter, but it did. I had read all the stories. Bonding with a weapon changed everything.

I loved my family, but I didn’t want to spend my life farming or fighting in one of the wars as a common soldier. I wanted to be in stories. And you didn’t get into stories unless you had a great weapon. What happened in that room meant everything.

I knocked once on the door, the sound a dull thud, and my arm trembled. My whole body felt weak, and I swayed. What was wrong with me? I put both hands on the door to steady myself, leaned forward, and placed my head against the cool metal.

The door rapidly slid into the wall, and I jerked backward to keep from getting caught between the wall and the door. Before my fear and worry could freeze me, I stepped into the Hall of Glory.

Chapter 2

“Watch your –”

The floor in the Hall of Glory was two inches lower, which I realized as I fell. I twisted my body and landed hard on my side.

“Step,” the voice finished.

A guard just inside the door laughed to himself as he slid the door closed.

I pushed myself to my feet and brushed off my pants. Once I had an epic sword, and bards made songs about this day, we could leave this part out.

The guard faced me. He wore hard leather with a silver mesh vest over his chest and a short sword hung from his waist. His forehead had the single vertical line of a swordsman and the four red dots next to it marked him as important but not an officer. His grey hair was cut short.

“Do you always step before looking?” the guard asked.

Still embarrassed by the fall, I answered with a question. “Two-hundred years and no one thought to build a ramp?”

“Easy little lion, it only sank this morning. A few other places in the Hall as well.”

Had the guard called me a lion because of my eyes? But the guard’s voice had remained friendly and not filled with the normal fear. I felt a little bad for snapping at him.

“Any other dangers I should know about?” I asked.

The guard chuckled and pointed to my right. “Just Yulth. You start with her.”

Another scribe sat behind a small desk about halfway down the wall. A bright shaker hung from a stand on the desk’s corner, and I squinted at the light.

“Thanks,” I said.

I walked halfway to Yulth and then glanced over my shoulder. The guard had knelt and was focused on the depression near the door. Yulth sat with her legs crossed, a small book open on her lap, and she hadn’t noticed me yet. I pressed my back against the wall, stared out into the Hall of Glory, and tried to absorb everything at once.

The room stretched for hundreds of feet but was less than a hundred wide. Stone statues filled the center of the room, a handful missing the weapons they usually displayed. Any weapon in this room would change my life, but the ones held by these statues were all tier one or two and would give me a chance to make history.

Shaker stands dotted the room and provided just enough light to see. The illumination reminded me of dusk, and I worried my eyes, inherited from my mom, might reflect the low light like a tiger.

Many of the kids I’d stood in line with this morning remained in the room, their faces sad or angry. A bonding attempt might turn your brain into mush, but leaving here without one meant failure, and it made sense they wouldn’t leave until they had to despite the risk.

A door on the far wall looked to be the twin of the one I’d just knocked on. Another guard sat next to the distant door, but he hadn’t noticed me either.

The walls contained weapon tiers three, four, and five. Not as powerful as the central weapons but still a thousand times better than a normal one. My heart thudded as I studied the right wall.

Maces of all shapes rested on their own shelves, a plaque over each with the weapon’s name inscribed on it. Some of the shelves were empty, but most had weapons. Nobody knew why the weapons did or didn’t choose someone to pair with.

Past the maces I could make out staffs and batons, and further down, crossbows and bows. I faced the left wall. Swords. Filling almost the entire wall. At the far end I could see claws and axes.

In the center of the left wall, a clear space surrounded a single pedestal. I couldn’t see it, but I knew it held the broken sword Trah’Vadha. For generations Kings and Queens had controlled the weather with it to protect their people and keep the peace. When the sword had broken the Kingdom had too. Now there were three Kingdoms, all fighting each other for power.

Yulth cleared her throat, and I glanced at the woman. She’d placed her book on the desk and now stared right at me, so I pushed off the wall and strode toward her.

Yulth’s dark hair had streaks of brown, and it brushed her shoulders as she shook her head. She had the same rectangle on her forehead as Gavyn in the other room, but hers looked plain in comparison, and she didn’t have the eye above it either. That meant she was a normal scribe and her two red dots under two blue ones marked her a lower rank too. She wore a long-sleeved silver shirt.

The scribe greeted me with a frown as I stepped up to her desk. The book she’d been reading sat on top of the largest book I’d ever seen: a three-foot by two-foot monstrosity. Gold and silver swirls covered the edges of the leather cover, but I couldn’t read the title because the shaker’s light shone into my eyes and Yulth’s book covered most of the gold letters of the title.

“How many more are out there?” Yulth asked.

“I’m the last.”

Yulth’s face relaxed, and she almost smiled. A green bracelet, covered in white circles, wrapped her left wrist. Mom had a similar bracelet, the only piece of jewelry she wore, but it was plain and colored blood red.

“I know you’ve heard the stories, and you’re excited to be the Kingdom’s next hero.”

“Yes,” I said before I could stop myself.

Yulth raised an eyebrow. “Three things happen here. Nothing, which happens the most. Somebody goes crazy, which is rare. Or, once in a great while, a weapon chooses someone.”

I smiled.

She pointed into the hall. “Do you see any smiles out there?”

I didn’t have to look; I’d already seen the tear-streaked cheeks and empty faces. My smile faded.

“How will I know if something picks me?” I asked.

“I imagine it hurts, because there’s always a lot of screaming.”

Yulth didn’t look like she was joking.

“Oh,” I whispered.

“Where are you starting?”

My eyes immediately went to the center of the hall and all the statues holding legendary weapons.

“Shocking. Off with you then, and stay away from the big blue tiger sword,” Yulth said, as she picked up the small book and leaned back in her chair.

I swallowed hard, wiped my hands on my pants, and forced myself to walk toward the closest statue. As I approached it my fear disappeared. I’d spent my life reading stories about these weapons, singing their songs, and remembering the heroes who used them in battle. All these weapons were like old friends.

The first statue no longer held a weapon, but I recognized it all the same. A woman carved from white quartz, her translucent body containing veins of rose quartz that made her seem real. She sat cross-legged, eyes closed, her right hand hovered in front of her nose, dividing her face in two. The left hand, also sideways, hovered in front of the woman’s chest. The hands would have held the sword, the palms pushing in opposite directions. I forced myself to look at the forehead and the third eye that I knew existed there.

The open eye stared at me, and it felt like it could see me. I took a step to the side, but the eye followed me. I crossed my arms over my chest and gave a short bow. This statue had been named the Oracle, which mirrored the sword it had held. The tier one sword could tell the future. Dad had told me a thousand times how it had saved everyone at Jasper Pass.

But the sword’s fame had started long before its role at Jasper Pass. If it had bonded to someone the news would have traveled the Kingdom. Why would the scribes have kept this secret?

Perhaps the scribes had taken the Oracle to their tower to clean it or something. My shoulders slumped. It would’ve been amazing to wield the power of the Oracle. To always know the best thing to do. I could rescue my brother for sure.

“There are seven.”

I turned around and looked at Yulth. “Seven what?”

Yulth looked up from her book. “Are you talking to me?”

“I thought you said something.”

Yulth put her book down.

My head spun, and I sat to keep myself from falling. The closest people other than the guard and Yulth sat fifty feet away. The voice certainly hadn’t come from any of them. My mouth dried out as another possibility occurred to me.

“Seven what?” I whispered, my throat suddenly dry.

“Soils of course. Clay, silt, loam, sand –”

Is someone in my head? I thought.

Of course not. That would be messy, and I do not like blood, something responded, and this time I knew it had originated inside my head.

I pressed my temples. Had a weapon chosen me? But Yulth had said I’d scream in pain. Did that mean I’d gone the crazy route? Three seconds later Yulth knelt beside me.

“Are you hearing things?” Yulth asked. She grabbed my cheeks and turned my face until our eyes locked. “Are you getting sensations or actual words?”

“I, um, words…” I tried to speak but my thoughts spun too fast.

A weapon in here had spoken to me and I’d stood near the tier one racks. It meant my life had just changed forever and I’d soon be the hero the Kingdom needed. I pictured my future: sitting on a large black war-horse, a flaming sword held above my head, an army behind me.

That seems terribly unrealistic, the voice said.

I gasped and rocked back and forth. Had this other thing actually seen what I’d pictured in my head? The thought of something tunneling through my brain like a worm through dirt made my hands shake.

Worms are good for soil, the voice said.

“What language are the words?” Yulth asked. “It might be Kahndirian if you don’t recognize it,” she said, her face red with excitement.

Mom had taught us all Kahndirian so I grew up speaking it, but I knew that wasn’t normal and kept my mouth shut. I didn’t know what language the words were in, the thoughts just formed in my head.

Yulth leaned toward me, and her perfume smelled like cinnamon. “We’ll find it much quicker if you tell me what it’s saying.”

It talked a lot about dirt, but I couldn’t say that. It sounded dumb even to me. I pictured myself again, but this time I stood in a field, a plow above my head, chickens behind me.

Much more practical. How would you even carry a flaming sword? The voice asked.

Yulth grabbed my shoulders. “Don’t move, I’m getting Gavyn.”

Yulth stood and sprinted toward the guard who still sat by the door I’d entered. A few of the other kids had noticed the commotion and stared at me. I pulled my knees up, placed my arms across them, and rested my head on my forearm.

What are you? I asked in my head.

Not a what, I am a who, the voice responded.

I tried to slow my breathing and counted. Inhale. One, two, three. Exhale. One, two, three.

After twenty seconds my thoughts stopped spinning.

I’m Cevin.

Cevin Glasach Alor’Lyphe. I heard you before.

I tried to swallow, but my mouth felt full of sand. How could you hear Mom’s name? I whispered it.

Sound is a vibration, and you can learn a lot if you listen.

None of that made sense. I needed to start with something simpler. What is your name?

It will take the better part of an hour to tell you, but I will if you like.

I shook my head but realized it might not be able to see me. No, that’s fine. What should I call you?

After a short pause it responded.

Lid.

Lid? Like a cover?

No, like, Lidsedokti Alyr Marphisio Nught—

Okay, okay. I got it, Lid.

What sounded like laughter echoed inside my head.

“Cevin?” Yulth asked.

I looked up. Yulth knelt in front of me, the huge book from her desk held against her chest. Gavyn, the scribe from the outer room, knelt next to her. The guard that had laughed at me stood behind them.

Gavyn leaned forward. “We are here to help you.”

“Has it said its name?” Yulth asked.

“Lidsedokti,” I said, glad that I had remembered that much.

Yulth put the large book down and opened it, the cover hitting the stone with a loud slap. The pages rustled as she flipped through them, and her head moved from side to side as she scanned for the name.

“I don’t see it,” Yulth said.

“Maybe its spelled ‘Ly’” Gavyn offered.

More page flipping and then after a few seconds of silence Yulth looked up at Gavyn. “It’s not listed. Whatever is talking to him, it’s new.”

Chapter 3

Gavyn shook his head. “New? That’s impossible.” He looked at me. “You must have given us the wrong name.”

“Probably. I think it has a lot of them.”

Gavyn’s face relaxed. “That must be it. A new weapon would cause problems.”

Gavyn stood and held out his hand to help me up. “If it’s communicating with you, the pairing process has started. But you don’t seem very…”

He trailed off, and it took me a moment to figure out why. I hadn’t shown any signs of the bonding. Earlier, Yulth had mentioned screaming. Grabbing his hand, I pulled myself up.

“I felt sick earlier,” I said.

The two scribes looked at each other and then Gavyn faced me. “Maybe it hasn’t really started yet. Can you sense it?”

“What?” I asked.

“You should be able sense where it is,” Yulth said.

Where are you? I asked.

Somewhere close.

My brain froze as a hundred possibilities appeared in my head. Inhale. One, two, three. Exhale. One, two, three.

Do you ever get past three? Lid asked.

My breath caught. Can you hear everything I think?

Unfortunately, until you learn some control, yes.

I moaned and rubbed my forehead.

Gavyn grabbed my shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I lied.

Gavyn pulled me gently forward. “Let’s walk and see what you sense.” He turned toward the guard. “Davot, keep everyone away.”

Davot nodded and strode toward the kids that had grouped up to talk.

The scribes thought I should sense something, but I didn’t feel anything. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. I felt like emptying my stomach, and my heart thumped so hard I thought it might explode.

Yulth pulled a shaker from her pocket and gave the palm-sized orb two quick shakes. It blazed like a tiny sun, and my shadow stretched out like some giant. Gavyn and I moved around the Oracle and into the forest of statues.

A granite warrior with jade eyes held up Sla’Fin, my favorite spear from the pirate wars. The stories said it could raise the sea into a wall a hundred feet high and could push a boat so fast you had to turn your head to breathe. The spear-tip had a greenish tint like sea foam and waves formed the shaft. I waited, hoping to feel the bond the scribes talked about, but I didn’t sense anything.

Reluctantly I moved again, and I passed a dozen weapons I recognized. Weapons that could make you invisible, cut through stone, make you so fast you could run on water, or even talk with animals. I hummed the songs I knew for some of them, as I desperately searched inside myself for the bond that tied me to one of these magnificent weapons.

I slowed as we approached the statue of a woman riding a tiger. Her left hand pointed to the sky while her right pointed a large broadsword like a finger. The sword looked as tall as me, but I knew I could probably still lift it. The magic in some of these weapons made them ignore the normal laws of nature, and this sword, as big as it was, might weigh less than a pound.

The blade had a bluish tint, like the edge of a rainbow, and the hilt looked like a tiger, its claws extended to protect the wielder’s hand. The end of the handle was shaped like an open jaw with sharp teeth extending like daggers.

Now this was a proper weapon. A weapon meant to lead a Kingdom to victory. I searched my memory but couldn’t find any descriptions of it. Such a magnificent sword should have a thousand songs written about it. The pressure in my head increased.

Pictures formed in my thoughts. I stood on top of a city wall, encased in plate armor, swinging this sword in a circle above my head, celebrating some victory. Thousands of soldiers chanted my name as a city burned behind me.

The picture felt so real it seemed like a memory. I had always wanted to be such a hero, and with this sword I could make it real. Pressure built in the back of my head, and a faint sound, almost like a voice, urged me forward.

I reached for the sword blade.

Gavyn gasped. “Is this the one?”

Yulth moved from one foot to the other. “Are you sure? This sword sometimes…”

Not a good idea, Lid said.

“They’re chanting my name…” I said as my finger touched the blade.

What felt like icy shards of glass filled my head, immediately followed by a whirlwind, which spun the pieces around inside my brain, turning it into mush. Screaming, I jerked my finger away, but the whirlwind inside my head didn’t stop. I covered my ears to shut out the sound of glass on glass, which had started to sound like a voice, but it didn’t help. I dropped to my knees, placed my head against the stone floor, and prayed for the pain to fade.

He is mine! Lid’s voice thundered in my head and the swirling stopped. Warmth seeped into my brain, and complete thoughts formed again.

I told you, Lid said.

Did you do that? Stop the…swirling?

Yes, but it took a lot of energy. Jar’myn is a brute.

Jar’myn?

The sword you touched.

Standing on that wall felt so real.

Jar’myn creates illusions in the mind. He is dangerous.

Was he trying to bond to me?

Probably. Or he might have just wanted to destroy your mind. He is tough to predict.

I let go of my ears and looked at my hands, expecting to see blood, but they were clean. How powerful must Lid be to stop such a mighty sword from hurting me? I got to my feet, and Gavyn held my shoulder again to keep me steady.

“Is this the one?” Gavyn asked.

“No,” I replied.

“Then why did you touch it?” Yulth asked.

I almost told them that two weapons had just fought over me and this amazing sword had lost, but I didn’t know if that was common so I told a half truth. “It tricked me.”

“You can only touch the one you’re bonded to,” Gavyn said. “You’re lucky to be alive.”

Everybody knew that, but I nodded anyway.

Gavyn glared at Yulth. “Didn’t you warn him?”

“I did!” Yulth responded.

Yulth had warned me about this sword, right after telling me I could start. I couldn’t let her get in trouble for this.

I held out my hands. “I’m sorry, Yulth did warn me. This is my fault.”

Yulth tilted her head and raised her eyebrows at Gavyn. “See.”

“Okay, let’s try this again,” Gavyn muttered.

I walked around the tiger, my hands at my side, and entered an area free of statues. A gap crossed like a line in front of us. I turned to the left and saw why.

The hilt of the sword Trah’Vadha sat on a cushioned pedestal against the far wall, its blade hung above the hilt, suspended between two golden holders. Hundreds of songs featured this sword. It had many names: the broken sword, the royal sword, and heaven’s sword. All names for the most powerful weapon in the world.

The rest of the room forgotten, I strode to the display and nearly tripped on a section of sunken floor. I stepped to the side and stood on a more stable portion of the stone floor.

Trah’Vadha’s hilt looked like a mass of storm clouds. Lightning bolts curved down to protect the wielder’s hand and arced upward to catch an enemy’s blade and snap it. The lightning appeared as jagged pieces of silver, and the clouds surrounding the hand-guard’s center like murky quartz.

I held my breath and tried to absorb every detail so I could draw it later. I would never stand this close to a legendary weapon again. Before it had broken, this sword had kept the peace and protected an entire continent.

Legendary might overstate it a bit, Lid said. Legendarily moody maybe.

What?

And not much fun to talk with.

You’ve spoken to Trah’Vadha?

She is trying to ignore me now. She should know better.

“Something’s happening,” Yulth said as she stepped backward away from the pedestal.

The silver arcs of lightning around the hilt seemed brighter and the quartz clouds in the center glowed.

“Are you doing that?” Gavyn whispered to me.

I shook my head and stepped away.

Are you doing that? I asked Lid.

Is the wind that moves from east to west responsible for every leaf that falls?

Huh?

Lines of energy stretched between the silver lightning bolts of the hilt and then arced upward, bathing the blade in a blue light. Yulth gasped and Gavyn pulled me backward another three feet.

Lid continued. I am just saying it is not my fault how easily upset she gets. She should –

Lightning leaped from the blade and struck the stone floor in the center of the sunken area, shattering the stone and spraying me with slivers of granite. The smell of burnt air struck me as I fell backward. Screams echoed in the hall as the kids that remained sprinted for the far exit.

Something warm slid down my cheek, and I reached up to wipe it. My hand came away red with blood. Something near the shattered floor tugged at me like there was a rope attached to my brain. Getting to my feet, I stumbled forward.

“Cevin, stop!” Yulth yelled. “It’s not safe!”

I fell to my knees, as if a hundred-pound weight hung from my neck, and stared into the hole Trah’Vadha had made. Chunks of granite sat on the black soil. Carefully, I removed the pieces of stone, and three seconds later I uncovered a rectangle shaped object, silver in color, an inch wide and the length of my hand.

Is that blood? Lid asked. Blood makes me sick.

I reached up and touched my bloody cheek.

Lid?

The silver object vibrated in the soil.

Lid wasn’t some epic sword that I could use to call the stars down from the heavens, or even a common sword that I could protect myself with. Lid didn’t look like a weapon at all.

This had to be some sort of mistake. Maybe I’d only seen the tip, and another three feet of steel stretched into the ground. Yes, that must be it. Lid was just buried. The weapon that had defeated Jar’myn had to be spectacular.

I reached down and grabbed Lid. When my hand touched the silver metal, coldness surrounded me as if I’d fallen into the harbor in the middle of winter. I shivered and my vision blurred as I lifted Lid out of the soil.

But Lid didn’t continue down into the ground, he came right up. As my vision cleared it confirmed what my hands already told me. Lid had the thickness of a piece of paper. He wasn’t a weapon at all.

I had bonded with an ugly bookmark.

Chapter 4

I dropped Lid back into the hole, stood, and stepped backward. “No.”

“What did you find?” Gavyn asked.

I shook my head. “It’s a mistake.”

Gavyn stepped forward and knelt by the broken floor. “What is this? It’s so small…”

Yulth set the large book on the floor and held the shaker out so Gavyn could see as he reached down.

Too late, I realized Gavyn meant to pick Lid up. “Don’t!”

And so it begins, Lid said.

Gavyn screamed, jerked backward, and fell to the floor. Yulth knelt next to a whimpering Gavyn. After a minute Gavyn hadn’t recovered.

You really hurt him, I said to Lid.

There was nothing I could do.

Will he get better?

Eventually. He has resistance training. You want to fix him now?

Do you know how?

Maybe. The muscle here…

A spot in the middle of my neck, two inches above my back grew warm.

Do you feel that? Lid asked.

I reached back and rubbed the spot. A terrible realization struck me—Lid could control my body. My breathing grew fast and leaned over, hands on my knees.

I cannot control you. Well, not much.

What!

Plus, you will figure out how to filter in no time. Then you could stop me. I thought you wanted to help the scribe.

Gavyn. Yes, I wanted to help him. I’d worry about being a puppet later.

Standing up, I rubbed the spot that Lid had warmed.

What does this do? I asked.

The muscle there locks tight when all the energy hits them. It squeezes a pain center in the brain. You will also need…can I show you?

I swallowed hard. The idea that this, whatever it was, could do things to my body scared me to death. But I didn’t want Gavyn to suffer.

Show me.

The base of my right thumb tingled, like it had fallen asleep.

Rub here in a clockwise motion. This nerve runs straight to the brain’s thought center. It should reset his mind.

Are you joking?

Drawings from books formed in my head; one after another, hundreds of them. All of people cut up in different layers. The images stopped on one that looked like a man made up of a bunch of strings. A language I didn’t recognize covered the edges of the drawing, arrows pointing to odd-looking things in the picture.

See the nerve by the thumb? You can trace it all the way to the cer —

Wait, the what? Are you saying we’re made of strings?

Lid remained quiet for two seconds before replying. That is not the craziest theory I have heard. In fact, there is a book that –

Stop. Let’s re-focus on Gavyn. And no more pictures of bloody people.

Those were muscle groups. From a very old book. I do not agree with the author’s methods, but the detail is –

Lid!

Right. No more bloody pictures.

“Yulth,” I said, but it came out as a hoarse whisper. I cleared my throat. “Yulth?”

Yulth looked up at me, her eyes wide with fright.

“I have an idea. It might help.”

I pointed to the location on Gavyn’s neck where I’d felt the warmth a minute earlier. “Use your thumbs to massage that spot.”

Yulth’s brow creased, and she frowned at me.

“What do we have to lose?” I asked.

She nodded, set the shaker on the floor, and rubbed Gavyn’s neck. I walked to Gavyn’s side and knelt. Picking up his right hand, I massaged the bottom of his thumb.

Clockwise, Lid said.

How can that matter?

Eighty-three point six percent of the references to this nerve agree that a –

Eighty-three point six percent? Really?

Pages of text rolled through my mind, and I squeezed my eyes shut. But the images didn’t go away, they were inside my head.

Stop!

The text stopped.

I rubbed clockwise.

Gavyn stopped moaning and a minute later he opened his eyes. I let go of his hand and sat back on my heels. Gavyn reached up and touched Yulth’s hand. She gasped and moved around to look at him.

“Are you okay?” Yulth asked.

“I think so,” Gavyn replied.

I felt Lid’s happiness.

Okay, I said. You were right. Thanks.

No thanks needed. Knowledge is its own reward.

But Lid’s pleasure didn’t go away, and I shook my head to try and get it out of my head.

“What did you do?” Gavyn asked.

Yulth pointed at me. “It was his idea.”

Gavyn got to his knees and stared at me. “Thank you, Cevin. How did you fix me?”

I opened my mouth.

Careful, Lid said.

My mouth snapped shut.

Careful of what? I asked.

Knowledge is a weapon. Weapons are power. Power is safety. Only fools risk their safety.

Is that a dumb way of saying keep you a secret?

Dumb? Only one of us is smart enough to know how dumb they really are.

I’ll take that as a yes.

“Are you okay?” Yulth asked.

“Sorry, my brain still hurts from touching that sword earlier. I’m fine.”

“How did you know to do that?” Yulth asked.

“I get headaches a lot,” I said. “Doing that helps, so I thought it was worth trying.”

Lid hummed in satisfaction. Not bad. I wonder if it does help with headaches. Let me check for a –

No, don’t. No more pictures or flying text. You’re going to make me puke.

Fine, I will look and then not tell you.

I don’t care.

Lid didn’t respond, which made me happy.

Gavyn rubbed the back of his neck for a few seconds and then faced Yulth. “This is the missing piece we’ve needed. We can start–”

Gavyn stopped talking when he saw me listening.

“This healing will be useful,” Gavyn finished.

“Thank you, Cevin,” Yulth said. “You’ve helped more than you know.”

I guess it made sense that these two would benefit from a method to fix their brains. Now they could help anyone who acted careless here. At least one positive thing had happened today.

“Get the book, please,” Gavyn said.

What book? Lid asked.

Yulth reached for the book that sat to the side of the hole.

What book? Lid asked again, his voice urgent.

Calm down. It’s just a book.

Just. A. Book.

Yeah.

I am going to pretend you did not say that.

Gavyn picked up the shaker and pointed the light at the hole in the floor. He studied Lid, narrowed his eyes, and frowned. “Strange.”

“What’s strange?” I asked.

“Is it communicating with you? Words? Feelings?”

“Not really,” I replied.

At least not at this exact moment.

Yulth handed the book to Gavyn and they both remained in front of the hole, blocking my view of the broken stone.

“Is it the tip of a javelin?” Gavyn asked. “Or a small dagger?”

Yulth bent down until her face almost touched the floor. After five seconds she straightened up. “It looks like a page knife.”

Pleasure spilled out from Lid again.

Now what? I asked.

It feels good to be recognized.

“If it’s a knife start in the dagger section,” Gavyn said.

“It’s not a dagger. It’s used to cut the pages in new books that weren’t trimmed properly. We get books like that in the library sometimes.”

Gavyn waved his arm around. “Well this book doesn’t have a library chapter.”

Yulth glared at Gavyn.

Gavyn rubbed his head. “I’m sorry, Yulth. Even if this is a page knife, we need to place him in a Pillar, right?”

“Yes,” Yulth admitted.

“Since it has a hilt, let’s start with the daggers,” Gavyn offered.

A hilt? Dagger? What were they talking about? I walked on my knees, circling around the pair to the right. Three seconds later the hole came into view, and I gasped. Lid no longer looked like a thin rectangle, he now resembled something closer to a small letter opener.

The two scribes looked at me, and I closed my mouth.

“What?” Gavyn asked.

“I, uh, am just amazed I’ve been picked,” I said.

Yulth returned to the book, flipping pages. “I don’t think we’ve ever recorded something so small. Maybe it’s a piece of another weapon. Like a decoration or something.”

Did you change shape? I asked.

You are really observant.

I didn’t think that was possible.

You are too young to know what is possible.

I’m twelve! I know a lot.

Well, I am twelve times twelve times twelve times –

That makes you old, not smart –

I have spent more time thinking about grass than you have been alive.

Well that seems right since you’re about the size of a –

“Cevin,” Gavyn said.

I stopped arguing with Lid and looked at Gavyn. “Yes?”

“You don’t seem right,” Gavyn said.

That was the world’s biggest understatement.

“I’m just, uh,” I rubbed my temples, “having a hard time believing this.”

That wasn’t a lie.

You can change shape and you didn’t pick something a little more impressive? I asked.

I did the best I could.

Gavyn returned his attention to Lid. “Whatever it is, I felt its power.”

“Hard to believe from something so small,” Yulth said.

“It has a hilt and blade…” Gavyn let the statement trail off.

“The Sword Pillar won’t like it,” Yulth said.

“I’m not sure what choice we have.”

The Sword Pillar is perfect. Lid said. Wuk said the danger is centered there.

Chapter 5

What danger? I asked.

The one that will probably kill us all.

Kill us? And you said Wuk. Do you mean Wuk’Glea? As in the Oracle sword?

My heart pounded at the thought of the Oracle predicting our death.

Oracle? Hardly. All Wuk does is calculate probabilities. She is just good at math.

Yeah, poor Wuk. Just a tier one weapon that saved the entire Kingdom at Jasper Pass. Nothing like the power to cut paper.

A terrible thought occurred to me. Was this the only reason I’d been chosen? Lid had heard of the danger and then grabbed the first warm body he could? I groaned as my stomach twisted. There was nothing special about me.

The two scribes still knelt by the hole, flipping through the pages of their big book, shaking their heads and arguing with each other. Lid rested in the dirt, and I picked him up by his tiny hilt and moved from my knees to sitting crossed-legged. Lid spanned my two palms, the silver metal smooth and warm.

My shoulders slumped, and my eyes felt heavy.

Do you always feel this sorry for yourself? Lid asked.

I squeezed my eyes shut and let my anger burn the sadness away. I’m not feeling sorry for myself!

Oh, sorry, I just cut paper, what do I know?

It dawned on me that Lid probably had feelings, and that I had likely hurt them. I’m sorry. The truth is I don’t know what you are. And, well, you kind of look like you could cut paper.

Apology accepted. Lid paused three heartbeats. And you are special. That is why I picked you and not your siblings.

“What?” I said out loud.

The two scribes stopped their whispered discussion and stared at me.

“What?” Gavyn asked.

In my surprise I’d spoken out loud, and I shook my head. “Sorry, I thought you’d asked me something.”

Both scribes frowned at me and then continued their conversation. Davot returned and stood behind the scribes. I waited a few seconds to make sure they’d forgotten about me. When they started comparing the similar color of Trah’Vadha and Lid, I focused back on Lid.

You’ve met my siblings?

I have met many people.

Liadh is mean so I understand not picking him, but why not my sisters? They’re good at everything. And nice. Tomyd, too.

Not good at everything. And certainly not where it matters.

A rare feeling washed across me. I felt lighter, and I sat up straight.

You should be proud, Lid said.

Lid had chosen me. Over all my siblings. Even though I didn’t know how to swing a sword or shoot an arrow.

I smiled. Thanks.

Lid’s laughter flowed across our connection. You will regret it soon enough. For now, we need to get into the Sword Pillar.

Excitement made my skin prickle. My favorite weapons were the swords, and all those heroes trained at the Sword Pillar. The thought that I might end up there made me grin. But how would I manage that? Lid’s size would surely keep us out. Swords were never this small.

I had never even seen a dagger this size, but a dagger seemed like my best option. I had read stories where a sword master had used a dagger in their off hand, but it was rare. There was only one place where daggers were commonly used for fighting, and it gave me an idea.

Gavyn shook my shoulder. “Cevin?”

Meeting Gavyn’s eyes, I shook my head, and began to lie. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“We are here to help with that,” Gavyn replied.

“I think I heard the phrase ‘scorpion tail.’”

Oh, that is clever, Lid said.

Gavyn turned to Yulth, who had already flipped to the back of the book.

Touch me to that book, Lid said.

Touch the book?

Only for a second.

Why?

Please. I really want to know what is inside. It might be the only copy. I need—

Okay!

Thanks, Lid said with relief.

Is there something special in it?

It is a book.

Yulth ran her fingers down columns of words, not touching the page, her mouth moving silently. After a minute she bit her lip and leaned back.

“No mention of it in the index,” Yulth said.

“It’s a fighting style,” Davot offered from behind them.

Both scribes looked up at the guard who had seen my not so magnificent entrance earlier. I lowered my head to hide a smile.

“What?” Gavyn asked.

“When you fight with a sword in one hand and a dagger in the other. The dagger is called the ‘scorpion tail,’” Davot said.

Gavyn and Yulth looked at each other.

Dad hadn’t let me practice with any weapons, but Mom had made me study them all. My respect for Davot increased. The style came from the pirates who lived on the islands off the eastern coast. Women and men who preferred light and quick weapons. Davot must not have always guarded this room. I looked up at the scribes.

“The shape, the phrase, it’s enough,” Yulth said.

Gavyn stared at Lid for five seconds and then sighed. “Maybe.”

“Is something wrong?” I asked.

“The Commander in charge of the Academy can be…difficult. And…” Gavyn started but trailed off.

“And?” I asked.

Gavyn looked at me and then back down at Lid. “All the weapons are in that book. Except now we know they aren’t. If there is one missing, there could be more. This tiny blade will upset a lot of people.”

They have no idea, Lid said.

Of what?

Of how good I am at upsetting people.

Yulth gasped. “They wouldn’t –,” Yulth stopped and glanced at me, “hurt a child to keep this information quiet.”

“I’m not a child,” I said.

The scribes ignored me. My heart thumped. Would people here really try and hurt me? Over something as small as Lid?

Gavyn shrugged. “Not openly. And it’s not just him. We know, too. I think it’s safest we keep it secret that the weapon isn’t listed. I need to talk to the Lore Master about an idea I have. The Lore Master can decide what we do after that. The boy’s name should protect him, at least for a while, but there is no one to protect us.”

“Protect him from what?” Dad asked from behind us.

Gavyn’s eyes widened, and we all got up. Davot’s body went rigid, hands behind his back, gaze forward.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Dad said to the scribes. “A lot of upset children ran past me, but I didn’t see Cevin. I just came in to make sure everything was okay.”

“You are always welcome here,” Gavyn said.

Dad turned and touched Davot’s shoulder. “Peace, Davot, there’s no need for that now.”

“You remember me?” Davot asked in disbelief.

“You fought with the Fifth Shield of Third Company,” Dad said. “You held the left flank at the pass, of course I remember.”

Davot bit his lip and stood taller. Dad never forgot anything, which I found really irritating.

Dad spoke to Davot. “The kids who fled were screaming that Trah’Vadha had woken. A crowd is gathering outside, and Merth might need help guarding the door.”

Davot brought his right arm across his chest, fist over his heart. “Yes, sir!”

Dad winced as the words echoed loudly. Davot turned and sprinted for the far door, the large man moved quicker than I thought possible. I had to stop underestimating people.

Dad turned and faced the three of us. “Protect Cevin from what?”

Gavyn nodded at me, and I held up Lid like an offering. Dad looked down at my hands, Lid still across my palms, and his eyes widened for a moment.

Dad leaned down, grabbed my shoulders, and locked eyes with me. His eyes were a mixture of green and brown, like pine trees scattered across a hillside. They glistened in the light from Yulth’s shaker, and I wondered if he might cry.

“Is that…” Dad started.

“Yes,” I said.

Dad smiled for just a blink. “Your mother was right, and she’ll remind me of that fact for months.”

“Right about what?” I asked.

“Everything, as usual.” Dad leaned forward until our foreheads touched. “I’m proud of you, Cevin. Proud of all the hard work that made this possible.”

I lowered Lid and looked down. What hard work? Dad had never let me work hard with a weapon, no matter how much I begged. If he had trained me, who knows how many epic swords might have chosen me.

Dad leaned back. “What did it call itself?”

“Lid,” I whispered.

Dad grinned. “A short name for a small blade.” Dad faced Gavyn. “What is its history?”

Yulth knelt, grabbed the large book, and stood. She pulled the book to her chest, arms wrapped around it like she thought someone might steal it from her.

Gavyn rubbed his bald head a few times. “That’s the problem. We don’t think it’s listed.”

Dad frowned. “Oh.”

“We’re considering him for the Sword Pillar,” Gavyn said.

“It talked about being a scorpion tail,” Yulth added.

“Really? It must be fierce,” Dad said to me.

I shrugged. I wasn’t sure about fierce. Lid did talk a lot though. Well, until now.

You’re quiet, I said to Lid.

Just enjoying your dad’s show.

Well I’m glad you’re having fun. Did you hear the part where I’m in danger?

You have been in danger your whole life. What do you think all the training was for?

Training? I didn’t get any of that.

You are dumber than you look, and that is really saying something.

Hey!

Lid’s laughter felt like a mist of rain against my thoughts. Shaking my head, I focused back on Dad and the scribes.

“…if he is in charge of the Academy now, I can’t stay,” Dad was saying.

Movement at the far door drew everyone’s attention. Merth and Davot snapped to attention as a tall man with grey hair strode past them. A long sword hung from his hip, and he looked like he had skipped too many meals. Under his leather vest he wore a red shirt and a matching cloak fluttered behind him.

Dad let out a long sigh as the man approached. The man’s forehead had a thin vertical red line and a single red dot next to it. Above the sword a small yellow line marked the man a sword champion. I tried to swallow but my mouth had gone dry. I’d never stood so close to a champion before.

The tall man stopped in front of Dad.

Dad brought his arm across his chest. “Commander Jase.”

Jase clenched his hands. “I told you I never wanted to see you again.”

“I didn’t think our paths would cross. I’m only here because of Cevin.”

Jase turned toward me and sneered and then faced the two scribes.

“What happened with Trah’Vadha?” Jase asked.

“The sword struck a sunken part of the floor with lightning,” Gavyn said.

“Why wasn’t I informed immediately that…”

I quit listening to the rude Commander as a thought occurred to me. I looked down at my right hand. Did you cause parts of the floor to sink?

Probably. It took me awhile to find Stormy here. I am really tired from all the tunneling.

I glanced up at Trah’Vadha, expecting the sword to launch another bolt, but the sword remained quiet. So it was Lid’s fault I fell when entering the Hall of Glory.

The stone floor is good for listening but not for seeing, Lid said.

Listening? Is that how you heard me say my full name?

Yes, vibrations that strike the stone make the whole floor vibrate a little. You just need to know how to understand it.

Someone grabbed my cheeks and tilted my head up. “Are you ignoring me?” Jase asked.

Jase’s hand smelled like mint and my cheeks stung from the grip. I grabbed his wrist with my left hand and tried to pull it away from my face. When his hand didn’t move, I tried a rune spell. I pictured the rune symbol for strength in my mind, tracing the three half circles with a mental finger, but nothing happened. Rune magic was so stupid. It never worked.

Jase let go and took a step backward. “You’re pathetic. Let me see this buried sword.”

I held Lid out in front of me.

Jase looked from Gavyn to me and then back to the scribe. “Where is the sword?”

“He’s holding it,” Gavyn said.

“Nonsense, I shave with a bigger blade than that,” Jase replied.

“Even so, it is our decision,” Gavyn said.

“I will talk to the King about this. That thing is an insult to the Sword Pillar and to the Academy.”

Gavyn tilted his head. “That is your right, Commander Jase. Until then, Cevin is your responsibility.”

I rocked back and forth as a realization hit. Jase was the Commander of the entire Academy. The man in charge of the training I’d always wanted, hated my father, didn’t consider Lid a sword, and wanted to throw me out. My stomach cramped as I realized I’d lost my dream of being a hero before I’d even began.

Your family never disappoints, Lid said.

I’m doomed.

We are going to have so much fun.