Page 183 of The Blade in the Ashes
Athene had said the vision of their deathswouldcome to pass depending on me, and I didn’t intend to bury any more friends.
I spun, searching along the bridge pathway and crevices. I furrowed my brow, head jerking from side to side wildly. The magic of my blade called to me, like a pulsating awareness in the back of my mind. I could feel it so close, and yet...
“Damn it!” I hissed.
It wasn’t here. How could it not be here? How could I be wrongagain?
What kind of Goddess didn’t know the seat of her own power? I racked my brain, gnawing on my lip while I searched through every single memory that had formed there over the past year and a half.
I was created and emerged into the Mortal Realm on this bridge.
I woke up in the infirmary.
They took me to the Council, and then to Hyrax’s rooms.
The Peace Ball.
Camilla’s attacks.
Clay’s birth night celebration.
My trials.
Pasnia’s attack.
The lake, maybe, where I’d had my power trial against the Hydraxan? No, that didn’t feel right. I supposed I could check the mountain where Ryla had trained me to use my powers, but...
You are Goddess, yet you expect your magic to behave like that of a Descendant.
My frantic movements slowed as Athene’s words came ringing back to me.
That blade wasmine, made from my power. It was an extension of me, and finding it should be as simple as finding an awareness of my own body.
Frighteningly aware of the battle that my friends waged so many miles away, I forced a deep breath into my lungs—forced my heart rate to slow, my nerves to relax. I closed my eyes.
I focused until I could feel that swirling mass of power in the deepest part of my belly. I felt it moving and growing. It spread throughout me until I felt the urge to turn and take a single step forward. Then another. Then another.
Towards the remains of the castle.
My eyes blinked open with a sudden awareness, a deep knowledge of where my blade was, and I took off at a sprint.
Crushed stone and dirt tore into the undersides of my bare feet, sharp and relentless as the ash on the ground burst up in plumes that stained my bare legs. My tunic snagged against a splinter of a beam and tore, leaving a hole around my midsection as I stepped into the space where Clay’s bedroom had once been.
And skidded to a halt as I took in the figure that waited for me.
Dark boots. Dark clothes. Dark hair.
“Caldrius?” His name was a whisper on my lips, between desperate gasps as I caught my breath.
He lifted his head from where he crouched in the soot. His dark eyes locked onto mine, not a hint of surprise as he took me in, scanning from my bleeding and bare legs to my face.
I wet my lips, stumbling towards him.
He held my gaze as he reached into the pile of dirt at his feet and pulled my blade out of the ashes.
It was magnificent. Glimmering silver steel with an elaborate hilt, engraved in swirls of gold and decorated with those unmistakable Veilstones. My power soared at the sight of it.
“You found it!”
