Page 23 of The Dragon and the Dove

‘All this talk of saints and weapons got me thinking about Fatebringer,’ said Theo. ‘Cadel’s sword is almost as legendary as him. It cut down every enemy he ever faced.’

‘Until he lost it during his final battle,’ Tobias chipped in. ‘The King of Urnica only agreed to return it as part of the peace treaty that followed. And then the stupid Appoline decided to hog it all to themselves.’

‘I don’t think it was the sword that was special,’ said Theo. ‘By all accounts, it was made of bronze and steel. Nothing divine in its making. It was the blood of its wielder that made it powerful. It worked as a conduit for the Lightfire in Cadel’s blood. His gift, as Saint of Warriors, must have forged the connection.’

‘So the fancy sword is useless?’ said Val.

Theo smirked. ‘It’s inspiration.’

A familiar spark of invention had flickered in his eyes. ‘A saint is difficult to kill because their blood has healing powers. The Lightfire in their veins guards them from interventions to their own fate.’ He reached for a jar of gold dust, holding it up to the light. Magic moved in Sera’s chest, as if reaching towards an old friend. ‘Which is why I think the quickest way to kill a saint must involve Lightfire too.’

‘We’ve tried coating our blades in Lightfire, but they won’t hold,’ said Tobias.

‘Which means we’ll have to forge our own blade,’ said Theo. ‘Heat the steel until molten and then mix in a compound of Lightfire, before hammering it into shape. Magic must reside in the heart of the weapon.’

‘You’re going to need a hell of a lot of heat,’ said Val, looking around the room. ‘Or better yet, an entire forge.’

‘I know a blacksmith at the south end of the Hollows,’ said Theo.

‘Of course you do,’ said Sera. Her travelled to the remaining jars of Lightfire. ‘What about the rest of it?’

‘We’re making protections for the Orders under this roof.’ A sobering yet necessary endeavour. Sera had worn Lightfire when she first came to House Armand, in a necklace, gifted to her from Mama. After the Aurore fell, Theo had made more of it for the others, small talismans of protection against the Daggers’ Shade, and later the compulsions of the Silver-tongue Saint. ‘We don’t have enough to protect the city. But we’re working on a dilutant.’

Absently, he rubbed his chest and Sera knew he was thinking of her handprint there, the magic that continued to elude him.

He turned to sharpen his pencil. She stepped in close, dropping her voice so the others wouldn’t overhear. ‘Do you want to try again? I’m ready to give it another go.’

‘With me?’ He gave her an odd look.

It hadn’t been her intention in coming down here, but suddenly it didn’t seem like the worst idea to finish what they’d started four nights ago. ‘Maybe the catacombs were the wrong setting. All those shadows and rotting skulls. Decades of Shade practically seeping through the walls. No wonder it didn’t work the way it’s supposed to.’ She swallowed, feeling strangely nervous. ‘But House Armand is different. It’s familiar and warm and—’

‘Sera, no.’

She blinked.

‘Once was enough.’

‘But it hasn’t worked yet.’

‘Exactly.’

It felt like a barb. She was offering him a second chance at power, and he was throwing it back in her face.

‘But you wanted it so badly before.’

‘It doesn’t want me.’

‘That’s not how it works, Theo.’

‘Leave it.’ His tone was clipped, crisp and so unlike him that Sera took a step back. ‘We tried. We failed.’ He waved the idea away. ‘Just… try someone else.’

Tobias slid into the space between them. ‘I couldn’t help but overhear…’

Val yanked him back. ‘No a chance, little Versini. I’m next.’

Val’s eagerness surprised Sera. Ever since they’d discovered the truth about her power, Val had never once seemed to covet it for herself. After what had happened to Bibi in the king’s ballroom, Val was afraid of magic. All magic.

‘Are you sure?’ said Sera.