The Sworn Read Online Free PDF

was taking all of his power to keep two fragile life threads glowing brightly. Behind the bed, Tris could see the shimmering outline of a ghost. Viata, Kiara’s mother, had also come to watch over the birth.
    “Hang on,” Tris murmured as Kiara groaned with another contraction. Tris had already bound her life force to his own, magic made easier by the ritual wedding bond they’d made. But the baby’s thread was slippery, evasive. Whether or not the boy would become his mage heir remained to be seen: Magic was almost never unlocked so early. Most mages became aware of their abilities as they approached puberty. And yet, as Tris struggled to keep a grip on the pulsing blue life thread, there was something very different about this energy. To his mage sight, it was almost translucent, instead of burning with a clear blue light. And it was damn difficult to anchor.
    Cerise pushed a wad of leaves between Kiara’s lips and murmured a litany against pain as Kiara cried out with the strength of another contraction. To ease her labor, every knot in the room had been loosened and every closed drawer opened. Around the room candles burned to light the child’s way. Still, nothing helped. Tris winced, sharing her pain through the bond. Kiara’s strength, while formidable, was fading quickly. And despite precautions—including placing his sword Nexus beneath her bed to cut the pain—nothing had eased this birth.
    “He’s crowning. One more strong push should do it. Please, Kiara, push him out to me,” Esme urged. Tris could hear exhaustion and determination in Esme’s voice.
    With a final push and Kiara’s anguished cry, the baby eased into Esme’s waiting hands. Kiara fell back, utterly spent. Tris reinforced Esme’s healing magic to ease Kiara’s pain, but his attention was riveted on the child. The baby’s skin was tinged blue and he did not cry out. Gently, Esme loosened the cord from around him as Tris laid a hand on the small form still slick with blood. He sent a desperate surge of magic to strengthen the baby’s life force. The baby jerked in Esme’s arms and began to cry, drawing a ragged breath. Tris reinforced his hold on the babe’s life thread as Esme took a knife with an obsidian blade and cut the cord, knotting off both ends securely.
    “Sweet Chenne, look!”
    Esme pointed beneath the bed. Nexus’s runes had burst into flame. Tris watched as the runes realigned themselves, magically shifting to form a new message. He read the runes apprehensively. “Light sustains,” he murmured, and looked to Beyral and Fallon, whose expressions revealed them to be as baffled as he was.
    “What is his name?” Esme’s question drew Tris back to the moment, to the child Esme gently placed in his arms. Thin strands of white-blond hair covered the top of the baby’s head in a fine fuzz. The child stretched and opened his eyes. They were a brilliant green.
    “Cwynn. His name is Cwynn.” Tris could only hope that the spirit of the ancient warrior whose tales of magic and bravery were legend would smile on this fragile infant who shared his name. Carefully, Esme gathered up thebloody remains of the birth and brought them in a wooden bowl for Beyral to read the omens.
    Tris moved to show the baby to Kiara, gently setting him against her chest so that Cwynn could nurse. Although Kiara was exhausted, Tris could see the pride and affection in her eyes as she watched the baby suckle. “He’s beautiful,” Tris said, bending down to kiss Kiara’s forehead. “Like his mother.”
    “Will he be all right?” Tris met Kiara’s eyes, and he could guess what she was really asking. For months, they had worried over the possible effects that the wormroot on the assassin’s blade might have had on the baby.
    “His thread is strong,” Tris replied. “That’s a good beginning.” But even now, as he stretched out his mage sense toward the baby Kiara cradled in her arms, the strange translucency made that thread shift in