Dagger And Coin Novels & Stories

My fingers brush against something hard and cold. That's right. I have the coin. Pulling it out, I hold it up for Damon and I both to see. "It showed up in my hand." "Maybe because Alec wanted you to have it." I close my fingers around the coin. It’s small, not much bigger than a quarter, but it’s extremely heavy. And extremely powerful. The stories say that it can grant whoever wields it wishes and powers beyond what anyone else has. Now I just need to figure out how to use the thing. It's the one chance I have to defeat the Silver Hunters that took over my school.

"Have a choice, young man!" Cormelio murmurs, "Not the dagger but the price will stab you." "It doesn't matter what you lose as long as you're content with what you'll gain in exchange," I said. And that made the blacksmith laugh. "Your nephew has good precepts!" "Not really." I'm a vendor as well. I know what will convince and console a stingy customer. I slid my fingers on the hilts of these daggers. Each has different designs such as rose, gem, hawk, and sun. But the most outstanding innovation for me is the dagger with a silver new moon on the hilt. I picked it without faltering.

“Now what?” “Shut up and enjoy.” Mira smiled secretly. # “Now, don’t touch the blade.” Mira handed her signature dagger to him. Now, they were sitting on the floor of his bedroom after a quick session in his office. Cohen wanted to learn about her daggers to see whether there were differences between the current daggers and the ones used for evidence. “Babe, I know what I’m doing,” Cohen replied, inspecting the dagger. “So how does it release the poison?” he pointed to the small tube located in the middle of the hilt.

Smoke curled through the night like whispers of betrayal, but Alex wasn’t watching the fire anymore. He stood over the body of one of the masked attackers, jaw clenched tight. The man was already gone, but something in his hand caught Alex’s attention. A coin—small, old, almost ceremonial. On one side was an etched scorpion, the symbol too specific to be a coincidence. “Give me a light,” he muttered. Diego handed him a charred torch from a nearby crate, the flames flickering low. Alex held the coin beneath it. His eyes narrowed.

Or maybe he could have made visual contact with it as he skipped by, but he surely wouldn't have stopped to check it out or pick it up. When a hard jagged tip of his right sole slipped into a grate hole and almost toppled him over as he picked up the coin, he should have seen it as an omen. But I doubt our main character even knew what omens were. He flicked the hard, dry chips of mud off the coin and examined it at all angles. Now that the mud was gone, a streak of light made a bright spot of light wink on an edge. Finian realized the coin was pretty new after all. It was of a shiny, dark silver colour. He wondered how a coin could be black and silver at the same time.

"My son is many things. A liar. A romantic. But he is not the owner of that coin. That belongs to the Bloodline. And you aren't part of it." He raised a hand, and the wolves on the bank tensed, their muscles bunching for the leap. "Reid, get behind me," I whispered. "Zara, there are six of them," Reid whispered back. "We have one knife." "I’m not using the knife," I said. I looked at the coin. The purple light was bleeding into my palm, staining my skin. I didn't think, I just reacted. I pressed the coin against the hilt of the dagger.

“But I assume you do.” He finally looked at her, eyes sharp in the green light. “The Dagger of Ersath is more than an antique. It carries a history that certain people in the capital would kill to erase.” She stepped closer. “Including Damien?” A faint smile touched his mouth. “Especially Damien. That dagger was a gift from the northern warlord to the Prime Minister payment for smuggling supplies through Crown-controlled land. The records are gone, but the symbols on the blade…” He trailed a gloved finger across the box lid. “They prove the alliance existed.”

Let alone the silver from the coin would burn on contact. Clematis, traveler’s joy or virgin’s bower, I knew from my volunteer work at the hospital. It was used for helping wolves when they were stuck, unable to shift. It was used in a dose that was small that it needed to be extracted with a needle, rather than an eyedropper. If this coin was filled with it, I might end up shifting now. My body could tear itself apart.

"Don't forget that Mr. Henderson saved your life and even successfully helped you get pregnant with our child. "There's also everything he did during the Dragonhead Conference. Even if I had to put my life on the line, I wouldn't be able to repay his kindness. Do you want me to be a coward now that he's in trouble?" Bethany shook her head and pointed at a corner. "I think the dagger you have isn't suitable. It's not sharp enough. "Use that!" Tyga followed the direction that Bethany was pointing at—it was a life-sized knight modeled with armor made out of pure copper.

And the arena started to roar and crumble as millennia-year-old history of the Nether World went down and returned to nothing but piles and piles of sand dunes. It was a catastrophe with her master at the apex of it. ‘Master! Hang on!’ Dagger yelled once more at the back of her mind. She did not know whom she was convincing, herself or the imaginary crowd? The corner of the panther’s lips curled up as she already knew the answer and it was because the winged Halfling was important to her even if she knew she was only bought by her master to be a pawn. Dagger was a happy pawn. For the first time ever since she grew consciousness, there was someone who needed her.