“I’ll ask around.” I kept my voice even. “Maybe he’s still around.”
“I doubt it,” she said. “Wouldn’t family try and find each other?”
“Sometimes there are situations we can’t control.”
“Can I ask you something, Stryder?”
“Sure.” I picked up the sword book from the table. “As long as it doesn’t have to do with—shit.”
I held up the book and the runes glowed in response. They were moving around randomly, something I hadn’t noticed the last time I held it.
“What’s that—your diary?” she asked.
I debated telling her the truth for a few seconds.
I pointed at the sword. “It came with that. Tells me the history of the blade.”
“Is that the blade Hades gave you?” She narrowed her eyes and shook her head. “It feels wrong somehow. Like it’s there, but not really there.”
“Make sure you don’t touch it and I mean ever,” I said, knowing how easily she circumvented runic defenses. “I’m serious. This isn’t like the Shroud. You touch that thing and it’s over.” I didn’t really know what would happen, but I figured a little fear would be good.
She shuddered in response. “It feels alive.”
I nodded. “Supposed to be able to help me with my condition.”
“Is it that powerful?” she said, leaning forward to take a closer look. “Enough to reverse an entropic dissolution?”
“Reverse it? No, nothing can do that.” I shook my head. “It’s supposed to stop what’s happening.” I nudged her back a few feet. “Every time I grab it, it jumps in my hand like it’s happy to see me. It creeps me the hell out.”
“Maybe it’s alive, and it’s trying to jump out of your hand, not into.”
“Was that your attempt at humor?” I asked. “Stick to the fans.”
She gave me a scowl before continuing. I quickly realized that my days of quiet solitude had abruptly ended.
“Are you going to use it?” She approached the circle again but wisely stayed near the outer edge of the perimeter.
“What?” I murmured, feeling distracted. The runes on the book had shifted location and order—the equivalent of a combination lock. That usually meant an enormous amount of power had gone into creating the defensive spell. If I tried to open the book the wrong way, the results would be nasty.
“The sword Hades gave you. You plan on using it?”
“You may not have noticed, but I’m not getting along with magic much these days.”
“But you’re dying.” She stared at me. “And it can help you.”
“So what?” I snapped back, irritated. “We’re all dying. I’m not going to use some weapon that needs me as a host. I have Fatebringer” —I tapped my holster—“that’s enough.”
“Until it isn’t,” Koda muttered under her breath.
“What do you want?” I asked, frustrated. I had grown unaccustomed to having people in my space. “Why are you here?”
“I want out,” she said, stepping closer to me. “And for that to happen, you need to be alive.”
“Out of what?”
“Everything.” She headed for the door. “All of it, Hades, the targets, the killing—everything.”
“You were an assassin,” I said more to myself than to her. “I’ve never heard of him letting one of his assassins leave his service alive—except Corbel, who declined.”
“I was Corbel’s second.” She stopped at the door and spoke without turning. “The only one to survive the training out of my group.”
It explained Hades’ actions. If he retired her, it would give the appearance of poor judgment on his part. Which, in his world, probably meant weakness. If he didn’t exile her, it would seem like favoritism. She would become a target and used against him. Again, weakness.
By placing her with me, a disgraced ex-Night Warden, he diminished her status enough to make her invisible without removing her entirely. I was the perfect solution.
“Shit,” I muttered, grasping the enormity of the play. “Did you know?”
She turned and glared at me for a second before shaking her head. “Do you really think Hades consults with anyone before setting his plans in motion?” she said, her voice grim. “Whatever is killing you must be starting with the few brain cells you have left. I’ll be downstairs.”
I wasn’t going to wait two days for my answers. I pulled out my phone and was about to follow her downstairs when the sword spoke.
SIXTEEN
AT FIRST, I was sure it was Frank.
“Mage,” said a voice from the direction of the sword that floated lazily in the center of the runic circle. “We must speak.”
“Nice one, Francis.” I dropped the book on the worktable. “Cut the crap. It’s not funny.”
“There is nothing humorous about your situation, mage,” the voice said. “You are dying.”
Frank would never speak that way. There was no trace of chlorine in the air, and his usual tone was absent. The only explanation had to be that I was losing my mind. The voice was distinctly feminine, and I realized ‘her’ voice wasn’t audible.
“Damn, now I’m hearing voices. This dying thing is going to truly suck if I’m out of my mind while I do it.”
“You are not hearing voices. You are hearing one voice—mine.”
“And to whom might I be speaking?” I looked under the worktable and in the corner near the sword. “I swear, Frank, if I find out this is you, I will crush you, lizard.”
“Focus, Mage.” An orb of black energy formed in the circle holding the sword. The orb bobbed in the circle for a few seconds before racing at me. I put up an arm, wishing I had kept my duster on as it slammed into my chest and tossed me across the floor. I landed in a heap, staring at the ceiling. “Do I have your attention now?”
“You do and the answer is: no.” I lay motionless and did a mental inventory, making sure only my pride was bruised. “Whatever it is you want, the answer is no.”
“You fear me?” the sword said.
I got up slowly and made my way back to the circle. Everything ached, but I was certain it could’ve hit me with something worse. Several of the muscles in my arms spasmed as I approached—a telltale sign of a nerve inhibitor spell. Even if I could cast, my forearms were flexed, locking my hands into claws. Casting would have been impossible.
I shook out my hands as I took a deep breath. I didn’t know what I was dealing with exactly, so it was best to measure my response.
“How did you manage to cast from inside a null circle?” I stayed a good five feet away from the sword. The effects of the inhibitor spell began to wear off. I flexed my fingers.
“This cage cannot contain me,” it said as it floated out of the circle. “I was merely humoring you.”
“Shit,” I said, backing up and getting ready to cast. “Can you stay over there?”
“You do fear me.” It remained in place as it floated by the worktable. “Perhaps you do possess some wisdom.”
“I don’t fear you—I just prefer to keep some distance between us. That’s all.”
“You lie poorly.” It floated back into the circle, and I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding. “We must bond.”
“No, thank you,” I said. “I don’t do talking swords or swords at all, for that matter. Not when I have Fatebringer.”
I adjusted my holster and patted the butt of my gun.
“Your weapon is inadequate,” she said. “It does not contain enough power to defeat the one who held me—I do.”
“It doesn’t speak either. Silence is a trait I prefer in my weapons.” I looked up suddenly at her last words. “Excuse me? You do what?”
“Your weapon cannot defeat the one you call Hades.”
“And you can?” I said, incredulous. “He’s an old god. One of the oldest.”
“He is old, I am older.”
“Who are you?” I backed up even farther.
“You ma
y address me as Izanami,” she said. “While this Hades is formidable—together we can face him.”
“As your host?”
“You are dying, Mage,” she said. “Do you wish to end your existence? I can undo the spell that lies within your body.”
I gestured and black runes flowed over the circle. Blinding pain shot up one side of my face as the mother of all migraines squeezed my skull in a vise-like grip. Black tendrils of energy shot out of the circle and impaled the sword in place.
“That’s more of a reason to keep away from you.” I held my head. “And to keep you away from everyone.” I gestured one final time, ratcheting the pain into the stratosphere.
“Your cage is impressive, but ultimately futile,” she said. “It will only hold me for a short time.”
“Long enough for me to do my homework.” I grabbed the sword book from the worktable and backed out of my room. I activated the runes on my doorframe to ensure no one would enter. “Should’ve left the damn sword alone.”
SEVENTEEN
I STUMBLED DOWNSTAIRS as the drumline in my head began a skull-shattering cadence of obliteration.
“Cole!” I yelled from the stairs. “Deathwish!”
Caffeine was the only thing that calmed the ice pick in my skull. Deathwish coffee curbed the migraine effects of casting. By the time I got downstairs, a steaming mug of black coffee resembling ink sat on the bar.
The concern on Koda’s face let me know I looked how I felt. “What happened to you? That smells like it should come with a warning label. Are you planning on drinking—?”
I raised a hand in response, grabbed the mug, and took a long sip of steaming javambrosia. The reaction was almost immediate. The drumline was reduced to one congo player and I could think straight again. I pulled out my phone and pressed the speed dial for Corbel.
“What?” he said when he answered. “I told you two days.”
“No, tonight.” I clenched against the pain that threatened to rise again and downed the rest of my coffee. “You need to come get your boss’s psycho sword and answer my questions.”
“Where?” he said with a sigh. “Don’t say The Dive. You have a few of your friends watching you and I would prefer not to erase any Night Wardens tonight.”
I’d expected Lyrra to keep my place under surveillance. It’s what I would do. If they saw Corbel, it was possible they would attack—if they were feeling suicidal.
“My ride will be here within the hour,” I said. “Patience and Fortitude, two hours.”
“Don’t be late. And don’t bring your friends.”
He ended the call, and I handed Cole my empty mug. The pain in my head subsided to a dull throb.
“Where’s General Java?” I looked at Cole. “I need these runes done tonight.”
“Said he’s on his way,” Cole answered as he removed five-pound bags of coffee from under the bar. “How many do you want to give him?”
“As many as he wants.” I was about to dial SuNaTran, when I heard the truck backing up. “It’s here.”
“You should just destroy that thing.” Cole shuddered and shook his head. “That car is evil.”
“A car is an inanimate object.” I headed to the door. “How is a car evil?” As soon as the words left my lips, I thought about the sword in my room.
“Oh, you’re saying it’s misunderstood?”
“No, I’m saying there’s a difference between cursed and evil.” I opened the door and saw Robert backing up a flatbed truck with the Beast on the back. “The Beast is cursed—not evil.”
“Wait, what?” Koda asked, heading to the door. “You requested a cursed vehicle?”
The flatbed stopped moving. The rear of the truck began inclining upward. When it was at the proper angle, Robert moved a lever, releasing it onto the sidewalk in front of The Dive. Robert moved the truck and stepped out. Normally SuNaTran drove the vehicles to their locations—this wasn’t a normal situation.
“Good evening, sir.” He held out a clipboard. “Are you certain about this?”
I grabbed the clipboard and nodded. “Completely.” I placed a thumb on the biometric area reserved for signing. “Please give Cecil my regards.”
“Will do.” He tipped his cap, jumped back into the truck, and pulled away.
Sitting there like some otherworldly creature was the Beast. Based on a 1970 Chevy Camaro, SuNaTran had made some modifications. Like the Phantoms they provided, the Beast was equipped with armor plating where it mattered. After Jade, it felt wrong to drive it, but if Lyrra was going to hunt me on the streets, there was no better vehicle to be in.
“That’s one sweet ride,” Koda said with a whistle. “Is it really cursed?”
“Just ask the three previous drivers—oh, wait, you can’t because they’re all dead,” Cole said from behind us as he stood in the doorway. “Whatever you do, Koda, leave the driving to him. I’m serious.”
“He’s right.” I placed my hand on the driver’s side door, and a wave of orange energy danced across its surface, unlocking it. I sat behind the wheel and turned on the engine. The rumble was low and throaty, just like I remembered. “I seem to be immune to the curse because of my condition.”
“I think that evil thing just likes him.” Cole stepped away. “Its soul is as black as the driver’s.”
I could see the black smoke wafting up from its surface. I placed my hands on the wheel, and red runes came to life along the dashboard. They pulsed for thirty seconds, and then disappeared.
“What was that?” Koda asked as she looked into the car.
“It was reading my runic signature—meaning no one else can drive the Beast.”
“Runic biometrics.” Koda raised an eyebrow. “That’s beyond cutting-edge.”
“I’m just glad it’s still black and not purple.” I walked back into The Dive. “The last thing I want to be driving is the Grape.”
“What?” Koda asked as I headed upstairs and then stopped.
“Long story—for some reason Cecil likes byzantium, and some of his tech mages imbue the color with defensive properties, which he then applies to working vehicles.”
“But he didn’t paint the Beast?”
“He tried,” I said with a small smile. “The paint burned right off and left the matte black you see now. The Beast doesn’t like to be purple.”
“Like I said, black car with a black soul—just like the driver,” Cole said as he pulled out more coffee bags.
“You plan on giving Java our entire stock?”
“This isn’t Deathwish—he only drinks Odinforce blend.” Cole stacked a few more bags on the bar. “Your inventory is safe, don’t worry.”
“It’d better be.” I turned to Koda. “I need to go see the Hound and return the demon sword his boss tried to enslave me with.”
“Corbel?” she asked. “Will Hades be there?”
“I’m not expecting him, but you never know with gods.”
“I’m coming with you,” she said, crossing her arms. “Just in case he does show up.”
“I’m sure your presence will intimidate him.”
She glared at me and set her jaw. There was no way I was going to leave her at The Dive. Her uncanny ability to bypass runes concerned me. My room held a few artifacts that could level the entire block if mishandled. I wasn’t in the mood to come home to a crater because of her curiosity.
She pointed at me. “I’m not letting you face him or Corbel alone. I don’t trust them.”
“Smartest thing you’ve said all day.” I turned to head upstairs. “I’ll be down in a few.”
“Stryder,” she said, “you need to be careful with them. Hades never shows his real hand. There’s always a plan behind a plan with him. When you think you’ve figured him out, he’s twenty moves ahead.”
“Not this time,” I said as I climbed the steps. “This time I’m not playing his game. He gets his sword back and we walk away.”
“It’s never that easy.” She headed downstair
s to the bar.
I took a deep breath and braced myself. An ancient spirit trapped in a sword that wanted me as its host. What could possibly go wrong?
EIGHTEEN
I OPENED THE door and the sensation of biting into a large lemon, peel and all, flooded my senses, nearly making me choke.
It never failed with strong ambient magic, and my room was thick with it. The black runes I had placed around the sword were gone. It floated freely in the center of the containment circle. White runes floated lazily around the perimeter. They shone with an intensity that made it difficult to stare at them directly.
“Mage, you’ve come to your senses at last.”
I nodded and narrowed my eyes, trying to decipher the runes around the circle. I’d never seen runes filled with such energy. This was going to be trickier than I thought.
Why hadn’t it left the circle? Then I saw it. The white runes were mirror images of the ones I’d placed around the circle. It was trying to invert my containment runes. A simple and elegant solution that would never work.
“Nice try on the inversion casting.” I placed my hand on the ironwood trunk. Several runes arranged themselves in sequence, and the lock clicked open. “Won’t work, though.”
I carefully sifted through the contents, looking for a particular artifact.
“Release me, mage,” Izanami said after a few moments. “You know we must bond.”
“One sec,” I said, still looking through the trunk. I found what I was looking for and stood. I held a small piece of fabric and approached the circle, careful not to breach the perimeter. “I need to move you, and there’s no way I am grabbing you without protection.”
“Protection? You do not need protection from me, mage.”
I tossed the piece of fabric into the circle and it flashed as it hit the sword, nearly blinding me.
“That,”—I pointed to the lattice of orange energy forming around the sword—“is a Lazarus lattice. Anything magical touched by it is rendered inert.”
Wander-A Night Warden Novel Page 8
