(Continues from Sheerin’ Away the City)
I drew my sword with effort. My arm isn’t long enough to pull it one go. I always have to grip it in the middle and yank the last two feet out. Articulated plate metal is Leshian for zero mobility. So of course, the elbow joint froze up mid-pull. Though, yonder Ironwood witch might have bespelled my armor causing it to malfunction. Once I had my blade free, I pointed four feet of glimmering crystal at her.
She gave me the ‘we’re all women together’ look, but I ignored it. We weren’t anything except enemies thanks to her highhandedness. Before I could nudge my war stallion into a charge, Kaydara started chanting:
Lady Wise and Sylvan,
remove our iniquity
so we’re people of the Plan.”
Silver light bloomed to my left and out of its heart stepped Shayari’s Queen–the Queen of All Trees, and she shook one radiant branch at me. Scolded and redfaced from shame, I dropped my guard. I was the bearer of the sword known as Legend and carrying it made me her champion. She had decided the Ironwood witch didn’t require smiting at this time, but I held out hope for later.
For now, my Queen has spoken, and I worked on threading the tip of my sword back into its scabbard. The damned hole must have constricted because it took some doing to slide my extra long blade back in its home. Or maybe I was rusty after spending countless years as a specter floating around someone else’s nightmare reality.
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In a world where enchanted trees kill, nothing is what it seems. Can Sarn protect his son, keep his masters happy and solve a mystery? When secrets threaten, murder is only the beginning.