Shadow Blade

by Seressia Glass

  “Not you, us,” Khefar pointed out as he came back for more dishes. “You are not facing the Avatar alone.”

  The finality in his voice came through loud and clear. “Us, then,” she said. “If we show up, he’ll know I didn’t kill you and we have no intention of turning over the dagger. I’ll be the first to die. The fake dagger will give us the diversion we need.”

  “A fake dagger that you’ve had Wynne and Zoo work magic into,” Khefar pointed out as he came back for more dishes. “And you want me to hold it to impart some of my energy to make it something more than ordinary. Something powerful enough to fool the Fallen.”

  “Exactly. It needs to be good enough to make Enig think he has the right one. But I also asked Zoo to put some extra magic into it so the false dagger will be a trap as much as a decoy.”

  Nansee looked at Khefar. “And you agree with this?”

  Khefar’s lips thinned with disapproval. “How could I agree to something that hasn’t been discussed yet?”

  “We’re discussing it now,” Kira pointed out, injecting every bit of sensibility she could muster into her voice. “I’m hoping we can agree on a plan tonight.”

  “By creating another Dagger of Kheferatum?” Nansee’s voice rose along with his eyebrows. “There’s a reason why there’s only one in existence. It’s a god killer. The only reason it hasn’t been destroyed is because the attempt alone could unmake everything!”

  “I’m not planning to kill any gods, just this Fallen.”

  “Kira, you’re not dense,” Nansee snapped, surprising her. Though his outward elderly appearance didn’t change, she suddenly felt there was more of the demigod in the room, as if he’d been suppressing his power before. “You know very well that we all come from the same source. Fallen, god—our only difference is where we stand on the Universal Balance and the power we gain from those who believe in us. Most deities don’t take corporeal form because it makes them vulnerable. That dagger is one of the few things guaranteed to not only destroy our corporeal forms but our eternal essence as well. And you want to reproduce it?”

  Stunned, Kira turned to Khefar, who looked from her to the demigod with a curiously neutral expression. She wondered then if Nansee had befriended the Nubian out of self-preservation as well as companionship, and if Khefar thought the same. She’d made a mistake in assuming the charming and amusing storyteller was all there was to Nansee.

  “It is not a true re-creation of Khefar’s dagger and was never intended to be anything other than a decoy. Nevertheless, you have my solemn vow that I will destroy the impostor dagger as soon as we defeat Enig.”

  That seemed to soothe the demigod. “You’ve made a vow to me. Know that I will hold you to your word.”

  “You should.” She changed the subject. “I’ve taken on more than a few hybrids and Shadow Adepts, but I’ve never faced anything on Enig’s level. We need to find some way to neutralize him that doesn’t result in the destruction of half the city.”

  “You need to separate the Fallen from the Avatar shell,” Nansee said. “The Fallen can not remain in this existence without that body.”

  Kira considered the demigod’s words. “But can’t the Fallen simply take up residence in another Avatar?”

  “It takes time to prepare another shell. Three days minimum for the Avatar to be transfigured.”

  “Three days . . . transfiguration? But that sounds like—”

  “Part of a very good story,” Khefar cut in as he rejoined them. “But it still doesn’t tell us how we can push the Fallen out, what to do with the Avatar, and how to keep the Fallen from moving into another body.”

  “There are ways to separate Light and Shadow from the bodies they have chosen to inhabit,” Nansee said. “At times it can be as easy as David using a slingshot and stone against the Avatar Goliath. Other times you’ll need the skill and luck of Perseus confronting Medusa.”

  Khefar barked out a laugh. “Somehow I don’t think a slingshot and a rock will take down this Avatar.”

  “It would need to be a pretty big rock . . . wait.” Kira leaned forward. “Demoz has a huge slab of clear quartz in his office. He uses it as a table, but I know that particular stone can also be a huge energy amplifier, among other things.”

  “Reminds me of a story I once heard.” Nansee looked thoughtful. “A village was being plagued by an evil spirit. No matter what the villagers did, what offerings they made, the spirit was not appeased. One day a strange magic man came along, and the villagers asked him to rid their village of the evil spirit. Being a poor village, they had little they could offer the man. One of the chief’s daughters offered herself, and the magic man agreed.

  “That night, the evil spirit returned to terrorize the village, only to find the magic man waiting for him. The magician had a staff atop which sat a large magic stone—he called it a shaman stone. With a voice booming like thunder, he pointed his staff at the spirit. Power like lightning sparked from the stone, wrapping around the spirit, trapping it. The magic man spoke again, and the evil spirit was drawn into the large stone that topped the magician’s staff.

  “The chief’s daughter gave herself to the shaman who had saved her village. The next morning, the magic man was gone. All that remained was his staff—and a child, for the chief’s daughter became pregnant. She gave birth to a son who grew up with knowledge of magic and the ability to control the staff his father left behind. That child became head of the village when his grandfather died. And so the village continued, peaceful and protected.”

  Kira stared at the demigod. “That’s a good story. So I suppose the moral I could take from it is that one gifted in magic or the ability to draw off energy should be able to boost their power using a stone and trap an evil entity.”

  Nansee nodded. “That is how the story goes. If it be sweet, if it be of use, if it pleases, take it with you.”

  “Thanks for your help, Anansi.”

  The spider god smiled. “I’m prevented from helping, remember? All I did was tell a few scraps of stories. If you’re inspired by my tales and decide a course of action, well, that’s your free will at work, isn’t it?”

  Kira smiled. “You’re right. Then let me say thank you for your stories.”

  “You’re welcome, Kira Solomon.” The demigod reached out, gave her a clearly affectionate pat on the shoulder. “Your graciousness and strength serve as inspiration and your courage makes us all better than we were before. Good evening.”

  Bemused, Kira watched the spider open the door leading to the garage—except the view beyond the doorway wasn’t her garage. Rather, she caught sight of a beautiful sunset, the ocean, and a hammock strung between two palm trees before he stepped through and closed the door behind him.

  “Must be a nice way to travel.”

  Khefar stood. “He says it is, but he doesn’t get frequent flyer miles.”

  Kira leaned against the table. “Are you happy with the plan?”

  “The plan is incomplete. What if Enig brings a full team with him? What if he wants to disarm you before you meet face-to-face? What if Demoz decides not to side with you? What if there are innocent humans working in the club? How are you going to get them out if Enig decides to use them as bait or punishment for you not bringing him the real dagger?”

  “All right! All right!” She thumped her hands on the table. “I already said I’d try this teamwork thing. You obviously have some ideas. Let’s hear them.”

  “You need to bring in Sanchez and her team. You also need Wynne and Zoo.”

  Her heart jumped hard in her chest. “No.”

  “No to which part? Sanchez or the Marlowes?” He stepped closer to her. “You need them; you need all of us. Gilead can provide tactical cover, and a pretty damn big distraction. You need Zoo to put specific magic into that other dagger to help pull the Fallen out of his Avatar. Both Wynne and Zoo can be under the radar, your ace in the hole to help get you out if it all goes to hell.”

  “Khefar,
come on, I can’t do my job with all those people there. Sanchez has already lost a response team—she’ll be gunning for anything and anyone not for the Light. And Wynne and Zoo—”

  “Wynne and Zoo are your friends.” He clamped his hands onto her shoulders. “They care about you and they want to help you.”

  “I don’t want their help.” She bit her lip. “I don’t want them in the line of fire.”

  His hands shifted, moving up to cup her cheeks. “The Marlowes are soldiers. They know what being in the line of fire is all about. More than that, you know if you don’t assign them something to do, they’re going to show up anyway. Much better to have them where you want them than have them crashing in with guns blazing, right?”

  He had a point. “You’re good at this.”

  He smiled. “Well, I’ve got a little experience with military tactics.”

  Military tactics, my ass. “Distracting me and making me agreeable by touching me, that’s a military tactic?”

  “No.” His eyes darkened. “That’s just me enjoying touching you.”

  She covered his hands with her own, reveling in the sensation. “And this is me enjoying you enjoying touching me. Or something like that.”

  “How about something like this?”

  He brushed his lips across hers, once, twice, again. That was just as good as the touching, maybe even better. She leaned against him, her hands sliding down to settle at his waist, her fingers slipping into his belt loops.

  With everything else pressing down on her, she wanted to grab this moment, this feeling, and hold on to it as long as she could. This bright glittering need was an oasis in the bleak desert her life had become, amid the losses that chipped away at her soul. She wanted more of it, even though it scared her. She wanted more of it, even though it wouldn’t last.

  He pulled away before she did, regret filling his expression. “Kira . . . ”

  “I know. I know.” She took a step back, then another, shoving away the hunger. “Bigger things happening right now, fate of the world and all that. I’ll talk to Sanchez and to Demoz. Will you call Wynne and Zoo, let them know the plan and what we need on the dagger? I’ll let them know what time to show up at Gilead tomorrow as soon as I talk to the section chief.”

  It was the most motley crew she’d ever seen and that was saying something.

  Everyone she’d contacted sat at Sanchez’s oversize mahogany conference table, the view of Midtown Atlanta clear in the oversize windows beyond. Everyone that is, except Demoz. Not only would he have not made it into the building, just being sighted near it would have caused trouble for the psychic vampire. He was too valuable to both sides. Besides, the less he knew about the plan, the less information he’d be able to share.

  She surveyed the people who’d come in response to her calls. Only Sanchez looked as if she belonged there, serene in her gray suit and position at the head of the table. The handpicked Special Response Team—four men and two women—flanked her, formidable in their black combat gear.

  Kira sat midway down the oval table on the left side, Khefar beside her. Wynne and Zoo, the latter happily without his arm sling, sat across from them. Wynne’s hair was now an incredibly deep purple and she seemed to have recovered most of her natural ebullience. At the foot of the table sat the four members of Inviolate, the band that regularly played at the DMZ. She knew the others wondered why the band was there, but if there were any contingencies, some of the band members had skills that would prove useful.

  She rose. The disparate groups instantly quieted. “First, I want to thank all of you for coming here today. I know this isn’t the most comfortable place for some of us, but right now it is the most secure.”

  Zoo coughed. Wynne smirked. “Second, what I’m asking you all to do is probably the most dangerous thing you’ll ever attempt: face one of the Fallen. This Fallen, Enig, says through his Avatar that he’s been making his moves and planning for more than twenty years. That makes him even more clever and dangerous than most Fallen. So if any of you want to back out of tonight’s confrontation, I won’t blame you. But you should leave now.”

  No one moved. They were either all crazy or adrenaline junkies. “Okay, here’s how we play it. The band will already be in place onstage when I enter the DMZ through the front door and make my way to Demoz’s office. Enig will probably already be there with most of his people scattered throughout the club levels. Khefar will give me ten minutes, then follow with the Gilead team.”

  “Are you sure Demoz will turn off the club’s protection?” Zoo asked.

  “I’m betting that Enig will make that a condition of meeting,” Kira answered. “And if he doesn’t, then we’ll have two layers of hackers working on the system.”

  “I still object to the use of civilians,” Sanchez said.

  Kira dipped her head at the section chief. “I understand.” It was an old argument, begun when Sanchez had first learned of Kira’s relationship with Wynne and Zoo. Kira hadn’t had time for it before and she certainly didn’t have time for it now. It had been good enough for Sanchez to allow her to gather everyone in the section chief’s offices and lead the planning; she couldn’t expect a Charles Dickens miracle to transform the woman.

  “Wynne and Zoo are ex-military and their idea of a romantic weekend away is to go base jumping in South America. They can handle themselves.” Especially since she had no intention of putting them anywhere near the line of fire.

  “Lambert is also former military and has a wealth of experience.” And that was all that Sanchez needed to know about Khefar, at least for right now. They already knew from the building’s security scans he was not exactly a Normal. Just to get him into the place she’d had to request special clearance for his “personal weapon similar to a Lightblade.” She’d eventually have to figure out what to tell Sanchez. For now, even the section chief understood the imperative was dealing with the Fallen.

  Sanchez pursed her lips. “I understand why you use the Marlowes. They have impressive skills and considerable experience. While I don’t know anything about this Kevin Lambert person, his records check out, but—”

  Kira briefly wondered how a four-thousand-year-old warrior managed to have a paper trail valid enough to pass Gilead inspection, but she suspected he had the help of a certain demigod who claimed to have invented the World Wide Web.

  “—what I don’t understand is your plan to use these musicians,” Sanchez continued.

  Good. She wasn’t pursuing questions about the warrior. “These musicians, Chief, are just about the only people other than staff who can enter the club without any suspicion,” Kira explained. “Besides, only one of them is human. They have skills we can use if we have to.”

  “Skills like what?”

  Kira sighed. “Smoke, do you mind?”

  The drummer smiled. He was as nondescript as one could be: average height, average build, mousy brown hair and eyes. He looked to be somewhere between nineteen and thirty, though Kira knew he was actually close to the century mark.

  He rose, then took his time walking down the length of the table to the section chief. Tension ramped up in the room as the SRT tightened their grips on their weapons.

  Smoke paused, looked at Kira. “Section Chief,” Kira said quietly, “you said you wanted proof.”

  “So I did.” She looked at her team. “Stand down.”

  Smoke continued to Sanchez’s side. He put his hand on her shoulder. Almost immediately, gray haze flowed up around them. They disappeared, only to reappear in a gray haze at the far end of the room.

  “Thank you, Smoke,” Kira said with satisfaction.

  The drummer grinned widely, ducking his mousy head in acknowledgment as he rejoined his band mates.

  Sanchez straightened her suit jacket with sharp precise tugs as she strode back to her seat. “That was impressive. What about the others?”

  “K.P., the lead singer”—she gestured toward the diminutive Asian woman, who bobbed her head—“spe
cializes in sonic dissonance. You don’t want her to demonstrate unless you feel the need to buy new windows. The redhead is Bryon, the bassist, and he’s descended from a fire elemental. The blond one is Chris, the guitarist. He’s human, but that’s probably a good thing. If he combined superhuman speed with his mad martial arts skills, he’d be a superhero.”

  Kira glanced around the table. “Inviolate will be emergency backup only. If the crap hits the fan, they’ll get all the innocents out of the club first. If it’s safe, you come back for us.”

  K.P. stirred at that. “But Kira—”

  “No buts, K.P.,” she told the singer. “Enig is high up on the Fallen food chain and he has way too many tricks up his sleeve. I don’t want you guys to be retaliated against without reason.”

  “And you don’t think getting you out if things go wrong is reason enough?”

  “I will see to it that Chaser Solomon makes it out of the DMZ,” Khefar stated as if no one would disagree. No one did.

  Miracles could occur. She’d been surprised that everyone had agreed to come together in the first place. But considering they all had good reasons for wanting a piece of the action, perhaps it was not illogical. Gilead wanted Enig destroyed and was willing to participate in the assault in hopes of recovering the special response team he had captured and turned. The band—well, halflings that straddled the Universal Balance, were always interested in proving their loyalties. For Kira and Khefar, it was both a mission and a path to personal redemption. As for Wynne and Zoo, they had more than proven that Kira’s work and person were integral to their lives.

  Now all Kira had to do was hope luck and the gods would stay with them long enough for Enig to become history.

  “Okay. Section Chief Sanchez will run time and communications from Command Post One. Wynne and Zoo, you’ll work on hacking the DMZ’s security system from Post Two. The band will monitor us and will get any staff to safety. Khefar and I will take on the Fallen. All we’re after here is stopping Enig. Understood?”