Upstairs, Gramps hardly made any noise. He isn’t trying to find something long forgotten…? The thought alone unnerved Maria.
Soon, he came back down the stairs. They creaked under his weight, and he no longer whistled. He held something in both hands, holding it out in front of him. Each step was careful, as if he was too afraid of falling and dropping whatever it was. Maria couldn’t see what it was; it was covered in a velvet sheet, the edges fringed.
Maria stood up and wiped her sweaty palms on the thighs of her jeans.
“This right here is very dear to my heart,” Gramps said.
“Was it my mother’s?”
Gramps shook his head. “No. This one is mine.”
“Oh, boy,” Maria said under her breath. She could only imagine what it was. The eye of a newt, some weird Oriceran voodoo doll; maybe a necklace of garlic to protect her around the giant, bloodsucking spiders…or was that only for vampires?
Gramps took a knee. He looked like an ancient quarterback trying to run out the clock during the Super Bowl.
“Take the cover off,” he instructed. “But be very careful. Very careful.”
Maria hesitated. “It’s not going to bite me, is it?”
“No. Go on.”
She grabbed the velvet and pulled it away. The silver blade caught the light above, reflecting it. The room lit up like the Fourth of July.
Maria put a hand to her mouth.
“Gramps, is that—?”
She couldn’t believe it. Duke had shown her in his vision: Gramps had wielded this sword like a freaking Jedi wielded a lightsaber.
“Yes, Maria. It’s my sword.”
The hilt was wrapped leather, oily black, almost brand new, and golden brass. It ended in a circle, where a creature that Maria had never seen before was emblazoned in the metal. The cross guard formed a T, and the ends flared outward. They were also carved. It reminded Maria of Excalibur, the sword wielded by King Arthur.
It was beautiful. It was breathtaking. It was—
“Yours,” Gramps said softly. “It is all yours. I can no longer wield it. Take it.”
Maria reached out for the hilt.
Just don’t poke your eye out! Sherlock added. I can totally see you poking your, or my eye out with that thing.
As her hand wrapped around the hilt, visions of Oriceran exploded in her mind. Tall mountain ranges. Two moons. The Dark Forest. A drooling maw full of sharp, crooked fangs.
Still, it felt right, like driving the Firebird had felt right.
“Are you s-sure?” Maria asked.
Gramps nodded. His eyes gleamed as bright as the smooth metal of the sword. “It is only destiny. Your mother would kill me. She wanted you trained in the ways of magic. But, Maria, I see something else in your future. I see you conquering all facets of the magic that runs through our homeworld. You will be more powerful than either me, or the Queen Witch. You will avenge your father and all those lost in that great battle so many years ago, and you will save those trapped in the world in between.”
“Geez, talk about a lot of pressure,” Maria muttered. She lifted the sword. It was surprisingly light, for how large it was. A cool confidence bolted through her. She was no longer Maria Apple, the girl who spent her days at Rolling Hill Mall serving popcorn, and who spent her nights with her nose in a book. Now she was Maria Mangood, heir to the Queen Witch, Avenger of Dominion, Bridge Between Worlds.
You actually don’t look as ridiculous as I thought you would with the sword, Sherlock said, sounding surprised. You actually look…cool.
“Gee, thanks,” she turned to face the Bloodhound.
“Sherlock, be nice to Maria,” Gramps added.
“Yeah, be nice to the girl who has the sword and the ability to use it,” Maria grinned.
Did I mention that I love you, Maria? And you’re the most awesomest person I’ve ever had the honor of conversing with.
“I’m the only person you have had the honor of conversing with.”
Sherlock did the canine equivalent of a shrug and said, It’s the thought that counts.
“Here, there’s more,” Gramps said. He produced a scabbard and a belt from one of the staircase’s steps. They were stitched together, the color of the brass hilt. Maria put it on and cinched it around her waist. It fit perfectly.
“Good thing I’m tall,” she said.
“Just like your mother and father,” Gramps said.
She put the sword in the sheath, and then drew it fast. It came easily and smoothly from its scabbard, almost as if it was propelled upward by…magic.
“We will work on many techniques in Oriceran. There are old friends to visit and places to see, but you must never neglect your training, Maria.”
“Great, it sounds like school all over again.”
“I’m serious, dear. The art of the sword is not one to take lightly. When we go through the portal—”
“Portal?” Maria interrupted. “Not lying this time?”
“How else did you think we were going to arrive on Oriceran? Did you think we could drive there?” Gramps barked laughter. “Portal, yes. We will take a portal to Oriceran, and things will be much different for you there. You are in touch with your magic side already, but on Oriceran, you will be surrounded by magic. You may feel a sort of sensory overload.”
“Wonderful,” Maria said,sarcastically. She sheathed the sword again. It felt like nothing around her waist and she began to take it off.
“What are you doing, Maria?” Gramps asked, his eyes bugging out.
“Well, you can’t expect me to go driving around Akron with a sword around my waist. The cops will shoot first and ask questions later.”
“Never mind the law. They will look the other way, I will make sure of it.”
“Magic?”
Gramps smiled slyly.
“Okay, I’m going to say my goodbye to Claire and Tabby. Do you want to meet up here, or…?”
“Not here, no. At Salem’s.”
“Oh, right. It’s a kemana. Or katana. Whatever that
