“Be careful, lass,” Sean said, becoming serious. “A few of the Guardians have said they’ll try to block your way to the Network and to make note of the information you try to find. I set up a gateway through my computer so any login attempt you make will come to me first. Your searches would be watched, but what I look up is none of anyone’s business. I know how to hide my trail. So . . . What do you want to know?”
Rae gave Zander a questioning look. She had never met Sean Morrissey, Guardian of the Austin Shiftertown, but she’d heard about him. Her father liked the Morrisseys and considered them allies. Zander had obviously met Sean before, and Zander was turning out to be a surprisingly good judge of character.
Zander gave her a nod. “Sean’s a good guy. I’d trust him.”
“Aw,” Sean said. “I never knew you felt that way about me.”
“Don’t push it.” Zander glowered. He looked at Kenny, pushed his fist toward the screen, and Kenny on the other side touched his fist to it. “Keep it cool, little guy. Say hi to Olaf for me.”
Kenny nodded and sat back in his father’s lap, a too-serious expression on his face. He was going to be an alpha, Rae suspected. Was one already.
Rae gathered her courage. “One thing I need to find out is how to fix this.” She lifted the sword by the hilt to show Sean the broken piece. The light from the computer glittered on the jagged cut.
Sean’s blue eyes widened. “Shite. What the hell happened?”
“It wasn’t her fault,” Zander said quickly. “She was defending me in a fight. I didn’t think the things could break. Must have been some cheap, crappy silver.”
“Don’t be daft,” Sean growled. “All the swords were forged by Niall O’Connell, the master swordsmith, meant t’ be passed through the generations. He used Fae silver—very rare. The swords are twined with spells. They don’t break.”
“Well, this one did,” Zander said. “Tell us how to put it back together.”
“I don’t have any bloody idea. The issue has never come up.”
“This sword was broken before,” Zander pointed out. “When it was stolen, the medallion came off, according to Broderick.” He tapped the silver piece on the end of the hilt. “But now it’s back on like it never happened.”
Sean shook his head. “Swords have minds of their own. Seems like it anyway. If that one broke, it was for a reason. Maybe it’s symbolic—it won’t go together again until the Guardians accept Rae. Or maybe she has to figure out how to fix it herself. I’ve lived with a Sword of the Guardian most of my life and I still don’t understand it.”
Rae lowered the sword to the table in disappointment. She’d half hoped she’d get into the Guardian’s database and find a file entitled How to Fix your Broken Sword, or something equally as useful.
Zander looked just as discouraged. “So, know any swordsmiths?” he asked Sean.
Sean shrugged. “Not really. They’re out there, but it will take special skill, not to mention Fae magic, to work on a Guardian’s sword.”
A growl filled Zander’s throat. “No Fae is getting near Rae.”
“I wasn’t suggesting they do,” Sean said. “There are some Shifters who have a way with metal though.”
“Yeah, Broderick and his family,” Zander said. “I’ve already asked him to come up here. I don’t know if he can help though.”
“Meanwhile . . .” Sean said. “You could try deciphering the writing on the sword.”
Rae leaned forward in sudden interest. “How? I don’t know anything about Fae runes. Is there a book? A translation program?”
Sean’s laughter came back. “Now, why would the Guardians of old have made it easy for us? There’s a bit about the Fae language in the database, but each sword is unique, made for its original Guardian. Every Guardian has to figure out the runes for himself.”
Zander sat back with a grunt. “Thanks, Sean, you’ve been a lot of help.”
Sean looked wise. “Rae accessed the database because you found the runes that let her in. Obviously, you can read them.”
Zander scowled. “I know the Norse letters. Not Fae—it’s a completely different language.”
“It’s a beginning,” Sean said. “Now, I have to sign off. My mate wants to go for her run. You know how wolves are.” His eyes twinkled as he grinned at Rae. “Sean Morrissey, over and out.” He reached forward and touched a key on his laptop. His picture and Kenny’s winked out, Rae’s screen going black again.
Rae sat back glumly. “Well, that wasn’t helpful.”
“No, maybe it was.”
To Rae’s surprise, Zander had lost his annoyed look and was thoughtfully studying the blank screen. “How?” Rae asked in irritation.
“I would guess Sean couldn’t say all he wanted to, no matter how good a firewall he has. He had to be vague. But he’s right—the runes on the sword are the key. I can transliterate the runes, but I don’t know enough Fae to trust myself to translate them. But that doesn’t matter. I know a—”
“Don’t say you know a guy!” Rae cut him off. “You can’t know everyone in the world.”
“Sure I can.” Zander’s amused look returned. “I know a guy who can read Fae—because he is Fae—not his fault. I just need to make a phone call.”
* * *
Zander led Rae out of the cabin, the sword on her back again, after she’d closed down the laptop. Zander watched Rae lock the door, start to return the key to its hiding place, her body curving as she reached up, then decide to drop the key into her pocket. Good for her.
She joined him, walking close by his side as they slipped into the woods.
Zander had wanted to bring the laptop with them but Rae argued that if those watching the house noticed it gone, they’d immediately suspect her and Eoin and come after it. In Zander’s opinion, Eoin should guard the computer himself and tell the other Shifters to suck on it, but Eoin had been right when he’d said that being Shiftertown leader was complicated. A job Zander thanked the Goddess he was never likely to have.
Zander took Rae’s hand as they moved silently through the woods, her fingers warm in his. The Feline who was supposed to be standing guard was enjoying himself with his mate under the trees beyond the house. Anyone walking by would sense that—and hear them too. They weren’t trying to be quiet. The sounds of their lovemaking faded as Zander and Rae moved swiftly up the path.