A Realm of Shadows by Morgan Rice Page A

magical light, and it all felt surreal to him as he sailed
at the head of a fleet. Behind him, all the men of the Lost Isles followed him
as he sailed out into the Sea of Tears.
    Alec felt the
humming in his hand, and he looked down, awestruck, at the magnificent weapon he
was holding. The Unfinished Sword. It felt surreal to be holding it. He raised it
up to the light, barely paying attention to the water all around him, fixated
only by this magnificent piece of metal. He twisted and turned it as he held it
high, the light reflecting off it in a magical way, and he felt it was greater
than him. Greater than all of them.
    Alec marveled at
it. It was the greatest weapon he had ever held, the only weapon he had ever
wielded that he did not fully understand, that felt bigger than he. It was a weapon
of such extraordinary beauty, extraordinary magic, that he hardly even knew
what to make of it. He knew he had helped forge it, yet a part of felt him that
it wasn’t his creation at all. He squeezed the hilt, interlaced with rubies and
diamonds, studied the strange inscriptions on its blade, ancient, mysterious, and
knew its origins lay somewhere in history, thousands of years ago. He could
only wonder who had begun this weapon—and why it had been unfinished. Had Sovos’
words been true? Did Alex really have a special destiny?
    Alec glanced
back over his shoulder, saw his large wooden ship filled with hundreds of
islanders, as were all the other ships in the fleet, and he felt the pressure
on him. Where exactly were they all heading? Why did they need him? What would his
role would be in all this? He did not fully understand it, but he sensed that,
for the first time in his life, he was caught up in a destiny bigger than himself.
    “They have never
left the isles before, you know,” came a voice.
    Alec turned to
see Sovos standing beside him, looking down at him with a serious expression, dressed
in his aristocratic outfit. He remained as mysterious to Alec as he had been on
the day they had met in Ur.
    Alec was
surprised to hear that.
    “Never?” he
asked, turning and surveying the warriors of the Lost Isles.
    Sovos  shook his
head.
    “They’ve never
had cause to leave. Not until this day. Not until you finished forging the
sword.”
    Alec felt the
weight of responsibility.
    “I don’t feel
like I finished it,” he replied. “Something just came to me and I followed a
hunch.”
    “It was more
than a hunch,” Sovos corrected. “Only you could forge it.”
    Alec felt
frustrated.
    “But I still don’t
understand how I did it.”
    “Sometimes we
don’t understand all that we do,” Sovos replied. “Sometimes we are just the
channel, and we must be grateful for that. Sometimes we harness forces greater than
ourselves, forces that we shall never understand. We all have a role to play.”
    Sovos turned and
looked out at the sea, and Alec studied it, too. The mist was beginning to burn
off the water as they began to leave the archipelago of the Lost Isles and head
out to sea. The waters were becoming rougher, too.
    “Where are we sailing?”
Alec asked. “Where are they bringing the sword?”
    Sovos studied
the sea.
    “It is not them,”
he replied. “But you . You are leading them.”
    Alec looked
back, shocked.
    “Leading them?
Me? I don’t even know where we’re going.”
    “To Escalon, of
course.”
    Alec’s eyes
widened.
    “Why? Escalon is
overrun. The Pandesians inhabit it now. To sail back there would be to sail to
our deaths!”
    Sovos continued
to study the sea, expressionless.
    “It is far worse
than you think,” he said. “The dragons have arrived in Escalon, too.”
    Alec’s eyes widened
again.
    “The dragons?”
he asked, astounded.
    “They’ve flown thousands
of miles and crossed the great sea,” Sovos continued. “And they have come for
one special thing.”
    “What?” Alec
asked.
    But Sovos ignored
his question.
    The current
picked up, and Alec felt a tightness in his chest as he