"I'll do it," Seth said, thinking of Coulter, and of his family.
"Thank you," Morisant said with great relief.
"Do you have any advice? Can you help me? If Zzyzx falls, I'm not sure what to do."
"You're on the proper course, in ways you may not yet understand. I tried to design Zzyzx intelligently. I am glad that Bracken is with you. Try to get word to Agad. He could be useful. Ancient magic bound the demons; ancient magic might save you. Not to minimize the threat. This horde of demons is stronger than any force you could possibly muster. Should the chance arise, give Bracken and Agad my regards. Thank them for me, and please convey that I hold no grudges."
"Is there any trick to the sword?" Seth asked.
"None. Vasilis reflects and reinforces the heart and mind of the wielder. As a young, loyal, courageous, well-intentioned shadow charmer, you should find the sword formidable in your grasp. I see you have a sister. Fairykind. That could prove interesting." Morisant paused as if lost to internal musings.
"You were saying?" Seth prompted.
Morisant snapped out of his stupor. "The sheath rests beside the door. Do not unsheathe the blade more often than necessary. Should you fall, no enemy can claim Vasilis, only a friend. In life, the sword can only be given away voluntarily. A single caution? Vasilis is powerful, and power can have an adverse effect on the heart and mind, which can in turn alter the sword. Many have acquired the sword while walking in the light, only to lose it in darkness."
"I'll do my best," Seth promised.
"Coulter would be proud. Now, Seth Sorenson, I hereby transfer Vasilis into your care, on condition that you release me and my fellow abominations from our necrotic prisons. Take up the sword and keep your promise."
Seth crossed the room to where the sword stuck out of the ground. He could hardly believe he had made it this far. Maybe he really would keep his promise to Coulter! Maybe he would find a way to stop the demons and save his family.
When he grabbed the hilt, warmth flooded through him. The dark blade burst into red flames, and the white radiance became scarlet. The blade came out of the ground easily. The sword felt less like something in his grasp and more like an extension of his arm. His emotions were magnified--his fury at Graulas keener, his sense of purpose clearer, the concern for his family more poignant. The courage he had struggled to find when facing the Standing Dead now seemed to spring from an unending well.
Seth whirled to face Morisant. The undead wizard looked even more wretched by the blazing red light.
"Yes," the wizard said, obviously delighted. "You will be most formidable."
Seth strode forward and raised the sword. He knew what he had to do, yet he hesitated.
"You promised, Seth," the wizard reminded him. "It is a true act of mercy." The wizard raised his voice. "Let it be known that Morisant the Magnificent died in possession of himself! Better late than never."
The pathetic ruin of a man closed his eyes, and Seth brought the sword down with a fiery whoosh. Morisant instantly burst into flames. Within seconds his corrupted flesh had been entirely consumed.
Seth walked out of the room to where the Standing Dead waited in their columns and rows. Was it his imagination, or did Vasilis feel eager in his hands, tugging him forward? As he stalked through the room cutting down the Standing Dead, setting those tinder-dry corpses ablaze, he found himself wondering if he was wielding the sword, or if the sword was wielding him. The weapon felt alive in his hands, seemingly rejoicing at the massacre. Or was he the one rejoicing? Minutes ago, these burning figures had tried to kill him. Now he was mowing through them like the Grim Reaper during a manic phase. Every swing of the sword felt so natural, so perfect, it was as if he were performing some violent, predestined dance. Without screams, without blood, without any evidence of pain, the Standing Dead crumbled to ash around him, until he stood alone, surveying the empty room by the flaming glare of his sword.
Only then did he realize that he had forgotten the sheath.
Seth returned to the room where Morisant had perished and picked up the sheath. Without his torch, he would need the light from his blade to guide him out, so he held the sheath in one hand and Vasilis in the other. The coldness of this subterranean lair forgotten, Seth marched out radiating fervent heat.
The Alder Door opened as he approached, and he stepped out into the noonday sunlight. The door closed behind him. For a pregnant moment, the Totem Wall watched him in silence.
"Now, that is a sword!" the Hunter exclaimed.
Seth sheathed it, and experienced an immediate sense of loss. He suddenly felt tired, and clammy, and much smaller. The faces of the Totem Wall chattered and cheered as Seth crossed to the stump, scrambled up, and retrieved his things. He paused, studying the animated wall. The jubilant clamor was unintelligible. He heard no English.
Satisfied that the Totem Wall seemed content, he climbed down from the stump. Without a backward glance, Seth hurried to rejoin his friends.
Chapter 24 Civia
With an overcast sky hiding the sun, Raxtus landed silently on a side street near the grocery store parking lot. Remaining invisible, the dragon took off again, leaving Kendra and Bracken behind. Bracken raced along the sidewalk, bearskin cape flapping, Kendra at his heels. Jumping over the low bushes bordering the sidewalk, they dashed across the parking lot and hurried into the back of an
Warren waited in the driver's seat. "Nice outfit, Bracken. You really blend."
"Is she still in the store?" Bracken asked.
Warren checked his wristwatch. "Almost eight minutes. I've been tailing her for about two hours. The info you relayed from Niko took me right to her apartment."
"Good," Bracken said. "No sign of our adversaries?"
"Not yet. Without an evident threat, I didn't want to approach her solo. I'm not a unicorn, I'm not fairykind--I have no way to prove I'm an ally."
"Probably wise," Bracken agreed. "Besides, there wasn't much you could do to help her escape until Raxtus arrived. Our inside source at the Society told me a new assassin was dispatched to help bring down the last Eternal. He said the others have orders to wait for the newcomer before moving in. It should buy us some time. Apparently they tried to take her out a couple of weeks ago in South America but blew the chance. She's supposed to be slippery."
"Her name is Civia?" Warren asked.
"So I hear from our source," Bracken said. "The source also hinted that the new assassin they sent out might some how work in our favor."
"Let's hope your source is reliable," Warren said doubtfully.
"I'd rather not bet the fate of the world on it," Bracken said.
"Don't you have armor?" Warren asked Kendra.
"Everything I had got soaked," Kendra explained. "We had to stop and get dry clothes. I'm actually glad. Armor isn't my thing. I felt clunky."
"Armor gets much more convenient once people start trying to cut you open," Warren said.
"At least I look normal," Kendra said.
"I see you wrapped your sword in a sheet," Warren observed.
Kendra held it up. "Best disguise we could manage on short notice."
"I think we should let Kendra approach Civia," Bracken suggested. "We don't want to spook her."
"Approaching her could be dangerous," Warren cautioned.
"True," Bracken agreed. "Civia will be on the defensive and may react desperately. But Kendra will feel much less threatening than either of us, and you can go in with her to keep an eye on the discussion."
"Since I'm not dressed in animal hides," Warren said.
"I'm expecting a fight," Bracken said. "I'll wait out here. Sorry it took us longer than I had hoped to meet up with you. Raxtus had to rest for a couple of hours in Arizona. He has flown a lot of miles in very few days."
"No problem," Warren said. "I barely got to Texas ahead of you. My plane only landed three hours ago."
"Should I bring the sword?" Kendra asked.
"Leave it," Bracken said. "We don't want to make her even more nervous. Niko said her guardian is female, and is currently shaped like a bichon frise."
"A bichon frise?" Kendra asked.
"A female shape-shifter?" Warren wondered.
"A bichon frise is a lapdog with curly white fur," Bracken said. "I'm not sure how gender works with shape-shifters. But Niko called her female."
"Is Niko getting close?" Warren asked.
"He's not far," Bracken said. "Should catch up within the hour."
"We should probably get in there," Kendra said. "I'm scared the bad guys will show up again."
Bracken nodded. "What was Civia driving?"
"The little compact over there," Warren said, pointing. "Nondescript. She knows how to blend."
"Try to bring her back here," Bracken said. "Keep in touch with the stone."
"You got it," Warren said. "Kendra, follow me after about thirty seconds."
Warren got out of the SUV. Kendra counted to thirty in her mind and then exited the vehicle. She walked to the front of the store, chose a cart, and wheeled it past the checkout counters, in case a girl with a bichon frise was on her way out. She saw several women checking out, but none had a dog.
Kendra doubled back across the front of the store, looking down the aisles. When she saw Warren selecting cereal, he jerked his head toward the produce section.
In the produce section, Kendra immediately spotted a young woman with dark, straight hair examining apples. She wore jeans, running shoes, and a TCU sweatshirt. Her brown skin suggested she might be Indian or Middle Eastern. A fluffy white dog sat patiently in the infant seat of a well-laden shopping cart.
The dog took an interest in Kendra, so she looked away. She wheeled her cart over to the oranges and started handling them. The woman pushed her cart over to the broccoli. The dog caught Kendra staring again. Deciding to be direct, Kendra steered her cart toward the woman.
The dog seemed to mumble something, and the young woman studied Kendra as she approached. Kendra maintained eye contact with the woman.
"Can I help you?" the woman asked with a relaxed smile.
"Please believe me," Kendra began, glancing at the dog. "I'm here to help. The Society is moving in on you again."
"What society?" the woman chuckled, slipping a hand into her purse. "You must have mistaken me for someone else."
"No, Civia, I'm serious."
The woman's eyes widened. She quickly surveyed the area. They were currently the only shoppers in the produce section. "What are you doing?" she whispered uncomfortably.
"They have the Oculus," Kendra said in a quiet voice. "I'm here with a unicorn, a dragon, and a friend, to try to save your life."
"The girl has an uncanny glow," the dog murmured in a female voice.
Civia stepped toward Kendra, resting a hand on her shoulder. Her other hand covertly held a switchblade at her side. "Listen, sweetheart, I don't know who you are, but I've been doing just fine on my own for a long, long time. I work alone."
The knife at her side had Kendra's full attention. She realized that the wrong words or action might get her stabbed. "You're the last Eternal," she whispered.
Civia faltered for a moment; then her gaze hardened. The tip of the switchblade pricked Kendra. "Leave your cart," Civia ordered. "Walk out of here with me."
"I'm not alone," Kendra said.
Warren stepped into view, hands on his shopping cart, eyes on Civia. Kendra had never seen him look quite so serious. Civia glanced at him.
"Presumably your friends don't want you killed," Civia hissed. "I believe you're trying to help, or I'd have already gutted you. But I don't work with partners. No exceptions. I've obviously been identified here. I'll move on."
"Your enemies can follow you with the Oculus," Kendra argued. "And we can track you with help from the leader of your shape-shifters. He'll be here soon."
"I've killed many people over the years," Civia whispered. "I could end you right now, then take care of your glaring friend."
"You won't defeat the people who are coming for you," Kendra warned, braced for the switchblade to rip into her at any moment. "They have a big team, and all the right weapons. You need to change your strategy and flee to Wyrmroost. Agad is there. He may be able to protect you."
Warren trundled his cart toward them.
"That's close enough," Civia told him.
Warren stopped. "I don't care who you are," he said. "You harm Kendra and I'll break your neck."
Civia frowned, the knife moving slightly away from Kendra's side. "Okay, you win," she sighed, shoulders sagging. Then she shoved Kendra at Warren and sprinted for the back of the store.
As Warren steadied Kendra, the bichon frise sprang at Warren from the shopping cart, transforming into a small wolverine in midair. Warren batted the wolverine with the back of his fist, sending it flying into a bin of potatoes. "Go back to the parking lot," he told Kendra as he took off after Civia.
"Don't fight us," Kendra scolded the snarling wolverine.
The wolverine changed into an owl and flew after Warren. From the back of the store, an unseen woman screamed. Kendra retreated out the front of the store in time to see the SUV screeching out of view toward the rear of the building. Apparently Warren was in communication with Bracken.