Magda couldn’t resist letting her fingers close around it. As she gripped the hilt, lifting the weapon, she could feel the raised letters of the word Truth with her fingertips on one side, and the woven wire letters of the word Truth on the other side of the hilt pressing into her palm.

She knew a thing or two about using a sword, but she was by no means expert with one, as she was with knives. This sword felt magical in her hand. Its weight and balance were extraordinary. It felt light, swift, and remarkably right.

It also stirred something deep within her, called something forth in a way that she hadn’t expected and didn’t quite understand.

The only way she could interpret it was that it felt rather like righteous anger boiling just beneath the surface of her awareness, wanting release.

“This is meant to be the key,” she whispered half to herself.

He was still watching her eyes. “Indeed it is, but as I’ve explained, I can’t complete it.”

“It all makes sense, now,” she said, still speaking to herself as much as to him. “I understand what you meant about the magic of the key serving truth and at the same time protecting the power.”

“The power needs truth to work. Truth is reality, the laws of nature. They’re inseparable. That relationship is represented by the word woven into the hilt. That makes this a sword meant to serve more than just the power. It is also meant to serve truth.”

She at last looked up into his eyes as the realization came to her.

“This is the Sword of Truth.”

A warm smile softened his expression. “That’s a good name for it. In fact, it’s perfect. I don’t know why I never thought of it myself. More than you realize, this sword serves truth on many levels and in many ways. I’ve always meant for the one who wields this sword to be a seeker of truth.

“Thank you, Magda, for the clarity.” He gestured to the sword in her hand. “From now on, it will always be known as the Sword of Truth.”

Magda lifted the blade upright, letting her eyes take in its graceful lines. Its fuller added not only lightness, which made it faster, but at the same time added strength to the blade. It was at once exquisite and deadly. Below the cross guard, the wire-wound hilt felt at home in her hand.

“Where did you ever get something this magnificent?”

His smile widened. “I made it.”

She again lifted the sword in astonishment, watching the light flare along the length of the blade.

“You made this?”

Merritt nodded. “While any would serve the purpose, this is the sword I made with the intent that it be the key. It has always been the sword I intended to invest with the power.”