Free The Faerie War by rachel morgan Page A

sword,” Yale continues. “That is the sword we’ve been guarding for centuries. It’s those words that say only one person can use it.”
    “So . . . can I see this sword?”
    The two of them lead me through the house, past bedrooms, a large dining room, a library, and several closed doors. We come to a spiraling staircase, which takes us down to another level. I see a room that looks like a smaller version of the Guild’s Training Center. Another room contains an enormous oval-shaped pool. At the end of a passage, Tryce and Yale stop in front of a blank wall. They each place a hand on it and wait for several seconds before the wall vanishes.
    I follow them into a darkened room, bare except for a glass case in the center. The case is lit and appears to be sitting on air. Inside the case, resting on a cushion, is a sword. The hilt is inlaid with sapphires and engraved with ornate patterns. Etched into the shining silver blade are tiny words.
    “Can I take a closer look?” I ask, stepping toward the case. I have a feeling that if I touch it, an alarm will go off or I’ll lose a hand or find myself hanging upside down in midair again.
    “Certainly,” Yale says. He places three fingertips on one side of the glass. It glows briefly before vanishing. “You can pick it up.”
    With one hand beneath the blade and another beneath the hilt, I lift the sword carefully. “So this is what’s supposed to save us all,” I murmur. I bring the sword closer to my face and read the prophecy’s words out loud. “‘ Two halves in one have more power than a whole. The fae world will bow beneath his mark. Only the sword can stop him, and only one can wield the sword: the Star of the high land. She is hidden, but the finder will find her. She will break the whole in half. By the strike of the sword, and the death of innocence, evil will be laid to rest. ’ Okay. Pretty cryptic.”
    “Do you understand now why we don’t know who can use the sword?” Tryce asks. “We don’t know anything about either the Star or the finder.”
    “Actually, the finder part makes some sense to me,” I tell them as hope kindles a small flame within me. “I know someone who can find people. Anyone, anywhere. That is—” fear grips my heart and threatens to smother my hope “—if she’s still alive.”
    “Really?” Tryce says. “You know the finder?”
    “Well, I don’t know if she’s the finder the prophecy mentions, but she’s the only one I know. I’d say that’s a good start.”
    “That’s more than a good start. I imagined us guarding this useless thing until the end of the world.”
    Yale sighs. “It’s good to know you’ve always been wholeheartedly committed to our cause, son.”
    “Hey, I’ve never—”
    “Right, so, I’m leaving as soon as possible,” I interrupt loudly, hoping to dispel the mix of anger and annoyance I’m feeling from the two men. “On foot, since there’s no other way. And obviously I’ll take the weapon with me.” I hope that isn’t going to be a problem for these guys.
    “We’ll go with you,” Tryce says immediately. His anger vanishes, quickly replaced by excitement.
    Yale nods. “Yes, that way we can continue to guard the weapon.”
    “You don’t trust me with it?” I ask.
    “Trust has nothing to do with it,” Yale says. “Our life no longer has meaning here if we have no weapon to guard. We may as well come with you and fight whatever new evil has been unleashed on our world.”
    “Right, okay.” Makes sense, I suppose. “So . . . you know how to fight?”
    “It’s not like we have much else to do here,” Tryce says. He takes the sword from my hand and returns it to the cushion. The glass case appears around it once more. “I’ll inform the others. We’ll leave as soon as everyone’s ready.”
    “Others?”
    “Yes. The Order has eighteen members.”
    And here I was imagining only two guys protecting a weapon that could save the lives of thousands. “There