Page 181 of Spring Guardians & Songbirds

It seemed like I’d struck his last nerve because he asked a little too tense, “Anima accissor—you know what that is?”

Soul killer? What was he on about? “Should I know your fibs?”

“It is what your sort calls a weapon, an object or a person. One that produces a type of magic that scourges the soul. Your petty gods gifted you all sorts of blessings, but you still rely on our goods to create anything of the sort. Anima accissor is made out of metal untainted with magic.”

“And you possess it?”

His creepy blue stare glowed. “Most certainly. Our mountains are rich with it. And for the right price it will be your father’s.”

What in the hells did my father need unblessed metal to make anima accissor for? The old weapons were used during the times when the gates of heavens were open and when all sorts of creatures would sneak their way into our realm. All that was divine could not be killed by humanly weapon or force so anima accissor were forged. And that is exactly where my lesson ended on the subject because nowadays they bore no significance whatsoever.

The music stopped and I pulled back, bowing my head gently at him. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

His face fell while he watched me dive inside the crowd.

What was happening? What was truly, truly happening? Father needed the Esmeray diaries to get the Seraphim sceptre piece. But why did he need the anima accissor for? Was it another part of the same puzzle?

I stopped between a throng of bodies, struck by my own thoughts. Did father need the weapon to fight whatever heavenly guardian that was guarding the sceptre? It had to be the only explanation. Was he planning to kill a guardian of the heavens?

A hand wrapped around my arm. A bloody hot one at that and I spun around to face the intruder of my thoughts. “You wouldn’t leave without giving me a dance, would you?” Demir asked, giving me a smug look. He took my hand and rested the other on the small of my back.

For a split second, his attention went to the Breshall prince, and it made him tense a little.

The more I looked at him, the more it seemed to click. “Demir. That is a Seraphim name, isn’t it?”

His mouth twitched a little. “It is.”

“Which village in Seraphim are you from?”

His fingers tightened a little around mine. “You wouldn’t know.”

“Humour me. I’m bored, you’re bored. We’re all bored.”

“Maskan. I’m from the north of Maskan.”

My brows raised. “Maskan?” I let loose a giggle. “I was terrible at geography. Wouldn’t know for the life of me where that is. For the heavens, keep this conversation going and just tell me where it exactly is. Or shall we sit in uncomfortable silence while you have your little sway between the rich?”

His grin was wide, and his eyes flitted to the Breshall prince again. “Just outside Heyes.”

“You learn something new every day. How lucky for you to have been recruited by my father. How did that happen?”

He stilled, stopping the two of us from swaying till bodies began bumping against us. “Lucky, as you said.”

“You must have possessed a great pair of skills.”

“I do.”

“Are you a Scarlet?”

“Not an Aura.”

“But you possess some sort of blessing?”

“Yes.”

“Melanthe’s blessing?”

His attention returned from the unblessed prince to me. “Of a sort.”