I look at Ryn, who’s staring at the sword in open-mouthed shock. “It glows?” I say. “Has it done that before?”He shakes his head.“Do you think she’s the one?” I whisper. “The girl we’ve been looking for?”“I don’t know. I certainly wasn’t picturing someone like . . . her.”“Yeah, me neither.” I turn the sword over in my hands. “Maybe . . . she touched a button or something that we didn’t know about. Something that makes the sword glow.”Ryn takes the sword from me and sits on the edge of one of the beds. He begins examining it, pressing here and there with his fingers. Arthur jumps from his shoulder, curls up on the pillow, and promptly goes to sleep.“Tilly?” A woman’s voice rings out. “Tilly!” The frustrated call is followed by stomping footsteps. “Estelle Marie Blakethorn, where have you been?”Ryn straightens. “Did someone just call her Estelle?”“Yeah.”“You know what that means, don’t you?”I have to think for several seconds before I remember the meaning of the word.
