Murmuring had broken out among the Council at his words, and Sabira saw many of the members nodding and smiling, Anneka chief among them.
She wasn’t sure what her superiors were going to think about this new development, though Elix was clearly in on it and approved. It would make her, in essence, a Deneith dwarf. But how could she possibly refuse without damaging the very relationship she’d been tasked with coming here to salvage?
“Insomuch as I am worthy of such a gift, I do humbly accept both the honor and the responsibility,” Sabira replied, the same words she had used when she’d been given her shard axe. But where her utterance of the phrase had been riddled with guilt before, now she spoke the words with simple gratitude. She’d made her choice willingly this time.
“Aggar?”
The Tordannon heir stepped up to face her, followed by Rockfist, who held a wooden box inscribed with the clan crest. Aggar opened the box to reveal two daggers, likewise emblazoned with the Tordannon crest, one made of stone and the other of steel. He took one in each hand, his former cheer hidden now behind a mask of solemnity.
“Hold your right hand out, palm up,” he instructed her, as serious as she had ever seen him.
When she had done so, he raised the daggers.
“Sabira Lyet d’Deneith, I welcome you into Clan Tordannon. By blood …”
He drove the points of both daggers into the soft flesh of her palm.
“… steel …”
He drew the steel dagger across her palm, drawing a red line that welled blood for a moment, then healed over, leaving a fresh pink scar.
“… and stone.”
Aggar drew the stone dagger down as he’d done with the steel one, creating a second red line that bled and scarred over as quickly as the first had. Then he returned the daggers, neither showing any trace of blood, back to their velvet-lined box, and the barrister took them away.
“You shall henceforth be known as Sabira Lyet d’Deneith Tordannon,” he said formally. Then he let the mask drop and his grin returned, even bigger than before.
“Welcome to the family, sis!” he said, grabbing her up into a fierce embrace while the Iron Council looked on, many of them cheering.
Later, the five of them walked over to the Crown and Scepter, where Kiruk had reserved a private dining room for them to celebrate. The Tordannon patriarch led the small group, followed by Aggar and Rockfist, who were arguing over the barrister’s fee. Sabira and Elix took up the rear, walking in companionable silence.
Outside the restaurant, Sabira paused, her hand on Elix’s arm. When Aggar turned to see why they weren’t following him through the door, she waved him inside.
“We’ll be there in a moment. You can start without us.”
Aggar raised one red eyebrow and looked from her to Elix, then back again, taking in the way her hand lingered on the other Marshal’s arm.
“So it’s like that, is it?” he asked with a surprised smile.
“Yes, it’s like that.”
At least I hope it is, she thought.
Aggar’s grin widened and he gave Elix a quick salute before heading into the restaurant and leaving them alone on the street.
Sabira turned to look up at the dark-haired captain, searching the depths of his hazel eyes. There was so much she wanted to say to him, about Ned, about herself, about them. She didn’t know where to begin.
“Elix, I …,” she began, faltered, then started again. “Aboard the Dancer …”
“Saba, it’s fine—”
“No, it’s not. What I said about Ned … I didn’t mean …”
“Saba—”
“… and then in your message, when you said you hadn’t lied …”
“Sabira,” he said forcefully, taking her face in his hands. “Shut up. That’s an order.”
And then his lips met hers and, for the first time, there was no shade of the past to come between them and leech away the warmth of their embrace.
Sabira pulled away first, breathless.
“We’d better get inside before Kiruk sends out a search party.”
“Let him,” Elix murmured, his gaze traveling up from her mouth, lips still slightly parted, to meet her longing look with one of his own.
She laughed softly at that, then stood on her toes to press one last, quick kiss against the blue skin of his dragonmark before whispering in his ear.
“Later.”
“I’m going to hold you to that,” he said, his voice rough.
“You’d better,” she replied, taking his hand and leading him through the door with a smile.
Inside, they found Kiruk’s room and sat down to a hearty dinner that would have had the members of House Ghallanda turning green with envy. The conversation and spirits flowed easily, as did the questions.
“So Eddarga did all this to get revenge on the clans who’d spoken out against her when she petitioned the Council for recognition as the heir to Noldrunhold?”
“That was only part of it,” Aggar answered. He and Sabira had tried to piece the puzzle together on the journey back from Frostmantle. “Sabira was the one who figured out the rest. The families of several of Eddarga’s original victims controlled land bordering Noldrunhold, and with their deaths that land was left largely vacant. We think she intended to claim the hold, with or without the Council’s blessing, and she wanted to make sure there were no prying eyes to report back on her activities until it was too late to do anything about them. Turning Frostmantle into another Noldrunthrone would only aid her in that.”
“The only ones actively mining along that border are the Mountainhearts,” Kiruk commented regretfully. “Though that may change now, depending on what Gunnett decides to do.”
At the Mountainheart name, Sabira raised her glass of Frostmantle Fire in Orin’s memory. The others did the same, and they all drank in silence for a moment.
“So is that why she had the yrthaks attack you on the way back from Stormreach?” Rockfist asked into the lull. “To try and get rid of Orin?”
“Have we confirmed that she was behind that?” Aggar asked, looking at Elix as he took another sip from his drink. Sabira knew he was still somewhat annoyed about the loss of the Inheritance. Like his Silver Concordian rings, Orin had borrowed the airship without asking. But Aggar was already having another one built. He was going to have it christened the Rapier, in his nephew’s honor.
Elix moved forward in his seat next to Sabira’s.
“Tilde confirmed that the Khyber shard Sabira found in the yrthak was from the same stone as the one in Nightshard’s ring. And since you saw a similar shard in the elemental Eddarga was controlling, I don’t think there’s any question that she was directing both attacks.”
“Why wait until he was all the way down in Xen’drik, though? Wouldn’t it have been easier to attack him while he was still here, in the Holds?”
That question had been bothering Sabira, too.
“She probably wanted Sabira dead, too, after what happened in the Maw. So she was trying to strike two veins of ore with one shaft,” Aggar answered. Then he grinned. “Plus, she knew the Shard Axe’s reputation. If anyone could spare me from the gallows, it would be Sabira, and she wasn’t going to risk that happening again,” he joked, punching his adopted sibling lightly in the shoulder.
“But how did she even know Orin was coming down to Stormreach to get me? And how was she able to direct the yrthaks from so far away?” Sabira asked, surreptitiously rubbing the arm where Aggar had struck her. Though the wound had healed over, the flesh there was still tender and a little sore. A lot sore, now.
“Well, Orin’s mission wasn’t exactly a big secret—to anyone except me, that is,” Aggar ventured after a moment.