Mermaid Tear (The Fated #2)

14 | Departure

Three weeks ago

Once they reached the shop, Kain tore his eyes off of Melitta and stepped ahead. His hand caught the cloth door and pulled it to the side, earning him a warm smile as she stepped through the wall of heat. His heart skipped a beat, but he forced himself to focus on the issue at hand.

The front room was empty, reminding him of his visit with Melas. Did Aretha not get much work? Dismissing the thought, Kain walked further in before calling out her name. Melitta stepped away, seeming to get distracted by the weapons on display. He might have joined her, but a curse followed by heavy steps drew his attention to the back door. Aretha appeared a second later.

"Ah. I was wondering when you would come. Just a moment."

She disappeared into the back again, before returning with a familiar sheath in her hands. Kain took it without hesitation, surprise stealing his tongue. Etched into the hilt was the intricate design of a diamond filled with swirling lines and encircled by twin serpents.

"You saved it."

His gaze remained on the blade as she spoke, but Kain could hear warmth in her gruff voice. "It seemed a shame to waste such artistry."

Kain nodded, a weight loosening from his chest. He may have ruined the blade his grandfather gifted him, but the hilt was still there. It was the most important part. That crest was the only claim he had to his name. Without it, Kain was just another wandering sailor in the average human's eyes. It was doubtful even his own mother would recognize him.

It felt as if she'd tossed him a lifeline in turbulent waters. Not only had he avoided discarding a gift from one of his only living family members, but he'd preserved a birthright. One he could never claim, but important nevertheless.

"Well, go on. I didn't slave over a furnace for you to stare at someone else's work," Aretha reminded him. "And be careful not to cut yourself."

Melitta joined them in the center of the room as Kain drew off the sheath. Confusion and wonder washed through him in equal parts. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting of a blade made from "venom ore," but it certainly wasn't deep, midnight blue metal. A slow shudder crept down his spine as the realization of what this was sparked deep in his memories. It was something Artemios had mentioned in passing, given it was so rare that it was unlikely someone like Kain, presumably sea-locked for the rest of his life, would ever see it.

The creation of venom ore was a special art passed down from blacksmith to blacksmith. It was always in danger of disappearing, because those who created it were selective in their apprentices, despite their own shortened lives. It was said that ore created stole years. Which was expected, given they used nightmare poison. He'd heard stories that the art was only taught to he already dying--no one was willing to condemn a healthy person to a life of pain.

The reason Aretha told him to be careful was because one cut of the blade held the potential to poison even the healthiest person.

A stab was always lethal--even for demons.

They might not die right away--it could take years to die from a small dose of poison if they survived the wound. But, eventually, they would succumb even on the most holy of Kikin's lands.

Kain had no words. His hand clenched the hilt to the point of pain.

"When I saw that sword, I knew what you needed."

It was a priceless treasure, and the heaviest burden.

"I won't take payment, so don't even try."