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fear, no sense of worry. Wonder filled his soul. Was this a sign the final sword had formed? Was his mission complete? He’d not counted the swords this morning, had no idea if he’d reached the mark of one hundred, though he knew he must be close.
    Drawing near, caught in the sonorous beat that thrummed beneath an audible level—pulsed in time with the ebb and flow of ruby light shining within the altar—he spotted something new lying beneath his sword.
    Something glowing the same blood-red color as the altar.
    Carefully he lifted his sword and set it aside. Beneath it lay another, but this was unlike any of the rest. Glowing with the same brilliant red as the altar it lay upon, the entire sword was longer, the blade thicker at the base, the crystal formed from faceted ruby rather than diamond.
    The hilt was gold, set with a single huge diamond in the pommel. Without even thinking of the consequences, Taron reached for the handle and wrapped his fingers around it.
    Heat raced through his palm like a bolt of fire and shot the length of his arm. He turned the hilt loose before he’d even had a chance to move it.
    The blade glowed, shimmering so brilliantly, Taron stepped back and covered his eyes. Blinking, he took a steadying breath and stared once again at the ruby sword. It flashed a deeper red, then flashed again. This time he could swear flames danced along the blade.
    And then it spoke, in a voice ringing with authority. A powerful, masculine voice.
    “You will take me to Artigos the Just.”
    Artigos the Just? Alton’s grandfather had died sometime during the move from their sinking continent. No one had seen him after the DemonWars ended, after their world was destroyed by earthquakes and cataclysm. Taron shook his head in fear as much as denial. “I can’t. Artigos the Just is dead. His son rules now. His grandson is my friend.”
    The red glow flashed brightly enough to stain the surrounding walls blood red. “He lives. I would not exist without him. I sense his life force, and it is as strong and vital as when he last carried his sword. Take me to Artigos the Just, but do not tell his son that either I or his father exist.”
    Taron stepped closer. “Tell me where to find him. How do I take you to him when I don’t know where he is?”
    Once more the sword flashed blood red. “You will find Artigos the Just, and you will deliver me into his hands.”
    As suddenly as it had flared, the fire died, and the crystal lost its glow. Taron let out a whoosh of air and a heartfelt curse. “Nine hells! Just go find a guy who’s been dead for a few thousand years. Sure. I can do that. No problem.”
    The sword flashed, almost blinding him. He jerked out of the way and choked back a laugh. “Really. Don’t worry. If he’s out there, I’ll find him.”
    He did a quick count of swords. There were seventy-nine stacked beside the ruby altar. As much as he hated the idea, he’d have to leave his own sword behind to finish the job of replicating the full one hundred weapons while he took this new one to either Roland or Alton. He sure as hell didn’t know how to go about finding a dead ruler on his own.
    Carefully, without touching either the hilt or the blade with his hands, Taron wrapped the ruby sword in his blanket and tucked it under his arm. He couldn’t risk anyone seeing it, but until he got to the upper levels, there was no way to contact anyone who might be able to help.
    He’d been away for days now. He wondered what had happened during his absence, if Roland and Alton and the others were still safe. Was Alton’s father still head of the council? So many things might have changed while he’d been entirely out of touch in the caverns beneath the mines.
    A ruby sword asking for a dead leader was probably the least of his problems.

Chapter Three
     

    Selyn stared at the blade shimmering softly against the bed coverings and fought back the sting of tears. She refused to cry, not when she felt such