by Jenn Stark
“You focus on regaining your Zen place of happy fighting,” Nikki said, eyeing me from the front seat. “And put your sword back together while you’re at it. It looks like a messed-up stack of TinkerToys that way.”
I shook my head, pulling the sword toward me and sliding its blade into the scabbard. “I think my Zen happy place is under construction. And if these cards are lining up the way I think they are, it’s not opening back up for business anytime soon.”
“Yeah, well, that’s not the attitude of a warrior—hey!”
The display in front of Nikki as well as a monitor mounted into the ceiling of the vehicle crackled to life, and though Nikki tried to smack the electronics into submission, a second later, Simon’s face took up the entire screen, like he was peering down a dark hole.
“This should—excellent, we got ’em,” he said to someone off camera. His eyes flickered to the right and back directly above the camera, and a grin split his face.
“Sara, my man! You guys have gone viral!”
“What—” Despite myself, I leaned forward, but Simon was distracted again, his fingers apparently flashing over a keyboard. His face was replaced by a camera-shot YouTube video, steadier than usual because of the selfie stick that allowed the angle to pike high above the cars. For a moment, there was nothing visible but Nikki and my head—confronted by the two guys in tan. Then Nikki suddenly heaved herself at the cops and vaulted into the SUV, and screams erupted all around.
“Oh my God, those cops! Those cops have a gun on that—” Pause. “Holy shit! Holy shit did you see that? Look at her go!”
The camera swooped, and then we did get a more direct shot on the action in front of the Luxor’s main doors, grainy and indistinct though it was. I saw my arms flash out as I disconnected the Honjo from my belt, then the person on the screen started moving so fast, it was impossible for me to believe it was me performing those moves. I watched myself knock the first cop back and slice the second, but I totally didn’t recall me leaping up to rebound off the side of the SUV, nor my spiraling flip in the air. I would have thought I’d have noticed that.
The sound of sirens picked up then, and the camera swung dizzily away, the awed viewer’s reaction echoed by another voice. “Oh my God, there’s more cops, there’s more—hey! She made it into the car! The girl with the sword is in the SUV!”
Another crazy swing, and the camera caught Nikki’s swerve to bounce the vehicle over the median, shooting out of the Luxor carport as a cop car with flashing lights barreled in. The phone was apparently hauled back, because the next image we saw was a blonde with bubblegum-pink lips, her eyes alight with excitement and her grin a mile wide.
“That was awesome!” she shrieked, and the image cut away again to Simon.
“See?” he demanded. “You’re awesome!”
I scrunched up my face, desperately trying to unsee the video. “Please tell me you’re pulling that down.”
“Ha! Not a chance. This is the best promotion money can buy. Clearly Gamon is hedging her bets, which has gotta be irritating whoever she’s got lined up to kill you. Kind of a vote of no confidence, you ask me.”
I winced. “Oh, great.”
“Never mind that, girl. You were on fire,” Nikki agreed from the front seat. “And I’d like to offer up that that was some sweet-ass driving by the chauffeur as well.”
Simon gave Nikki the thumbs-up. “Best driving ever. You should also be advised that your current conveyance is one of the premier offerings of the Arcana Council fleet, its dark blue-black finish a total changeup once she gets heated up. By the time you hit ninety miles—whoops, you’re there—she’ll be a flaming-red inferno.”
“No way!” Nikki hunched forward, peering over the hood. “Yup, candy-apple red. Simon, you are a genius.”
“You’re on the right path too,” he said, flipping his gaze back to me. “There’s a lot of energy signatures flowing into Death Valley, way more than typical tourist season. Head south on Badwater Road and go all the way to Artist’s Drive, then head back to Artist’s Palette—road’s been closed for the past week, but apparently it’s open for Fight Club. There’s some sort of jamming system on over the whole area that’s giving me fits.” His fingers flew over the unseen keyboard again. “I’ll punch it into your Nav.”
“Thanks,” I said, grinning despite myself. “Anything coming behind us?”
Simon gave me another thumbs-up. “Nothing I can’t handle, sister,” he said. “You go fight the good fight. We’ll cover your back.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Death Valley lived up to its name, desolate and bleak as we careened onto Badwater and barreled our way toward Artist’s Drive. It was closed, as Simon had indicated, but no one was there to stop us from blowing past the barricades and up into the desolate ridges.
“No one’s watching,” I said, peering back as Nikki bounced over rocks and sand.
“Neural net, you ask me,” she said. I blinked at her, and she waved her hand overhead. “Those heat signatures Simon was talking about, running into the Valley. Those weren’t cars, I’m thinking. Those were energy spikes. Gamon probably has some kind of network set up here to blank us from satellites.”
I stared at her. “She can do that?”
“I bet there’s a ton of shit she’s been playing with that straight-up Connecteds haven’t even touched. The technoceuticals she’s cooking could easily link a dozen or so high-level psychics to make their own Skynet. Especially if she’s pulling down additional magic from the other side.”
“And she’s not even here. I get to fight her lieutenant.” I grimaced, wrapping my hand around the hilt. “It’s Jiao, isn’t it?”
Nikki blew out a breath. “I’m thinking so.” She turned off-road at the insistent beep of her GPS. “She acts a good game, but she was there from the beginning. She knew where you’d be at every turn. She was on the inside of Soo’s operation for years, and then, what, Soo hands it off to a stranger instead of family? No way she’d put up with that. And if Soo was good with a sword, you can bet Jiao is too. Plus, now she knows how the Honjo works, knows you’ve got no real skills. She’ll be ready for you, even though she’s old.” She shook her head. “Hopefully she’s older than she looks, is all.”
“Yeah.” I blew out a long breath. Jiao didn’t know I’d evened the odds with Armaeus’s dark magic, though. That she couldn’t have planned for.
After another few minutes of rough driving, the rocky ridges gave way to a box canyon—one way in, and the same way out. A single unfamiliar SUV sat at the far end of the open space, and I craned around, trying to see to the top of the ridge. Nothing.
“This…sucks,” Nikki said, eyeing her GPS. “Simon, if you’re out there, please tell me there’s another way out of this thing, or I’m revoking your navigator’s license.”
Nothing came back from the console but static, and Nikki turned the volume down. “Jammers still messing with him, gotta be.” She glared at the lone SUV. “We go in?”
I sighed. There really wasn’t another option. If Jiao truly was in league with Gamon, I couldn’t back down. The House of Swords would make Gamon too strong. “We go in.”
As we approached the center of the canyon, the other vehicle’s lights flared once. Nikki cursed as our SUV went dead.
“Blank zone,” she said. “I’m telling you, this is one sweet operation.”
“I still don’t understand why she’s doing it this way.” I’d pulled the sword back into position across my body, reattaching the scabbard to my belt. “If she just wants to give the House to Gamon, why not find a way around this ritual, or let Gamon storm in and take the House by force?”
“Depends on the goal,” Nikki said. Her eyes were fixed on the far vehicle. “You want to kill a bunch of people, you stage a coup. You want to build a loyal army, you win according to the rules that are already in place. That means no one storms the castle, no one shoots a gun. You win with sword and magic, or not at all.” She gl
anced at me. “That’s how I’d do it, anyway. Next time I wanted to play Evil Overlord.”
Despite the heavy knot in my gut, I smiled. “You’ll warn me before you do that, right?”
“You’ll get the first invite to my empire.”
“So that’s how we’re going to do this, then. I beat Jiao with no guns,” I said. “Not even to save a life. No storming the castle. No cheating.”
Nikki snorted. “Cheating I think is on the table. And you’d better be ready for it. Jiao’s gonna be.”
The door of the other SUV opened, and a figure stepped out. Before I could lose my nerve, I followed suit. As my feet hit the ground, I could sense the charge Nikki was talking about. The canyon was lit up with it, and my feet practically vibrated. Gamon might not have triggered this energy field with magic, but she definitely had some mechanism in place out here. It was eerie and uplifting at the same time, and I wondered how much it would benefit my opponent.
The SUV door slammed, and only one person stood beside it.
One very familiar person.
But not the one I expected.
“General Som?” Nikki’s voice carried through the open SUV window. The woman stepped confidently across the shifting shadows of the valley floor, and with every step I knew it had to be her, that there was no mistake. “But you already beat her ass.”
“Did I?” I felt the truth of our first encounter settle into me, as certain as my bones. “If the lines clear up, find out where Jiao is. She was with General Som last we saw her. If she didn’t know General Som was the usurper, and tried to stop her…”
“On it,” Nikki said, and I reconsidered my fight with General Som at Soo’s mansion that morning. General Som had pressed hard, I thought, striking and feinting to test the Honjo, but not trying to win, exactly. Not then. Instead, she’d pushed me to feats I hadn’t known the sword or I were capable of. I’d thought it a challenge, but it hadn’t been that at all.
It’d been research.
“Stupid,” I muttered, but there was no going back now. I strode forward and allowed the magic running through the ground to feel my weight. I didn’t think the force field could do much more than resonate, sending a blank reflection into the satellite-filled sky. If it suddenly electrified me mid-fight, that wouldn’t serve anyone’s purpose. Certainly not General Som’s.
The full truth of her bid became clear to me in a moment of startling certainty. Because of the jammed visual feed of this canyon, the rank and file of Soo’s House wouldn’t know of the general’s betrayal—would never know. Not even the other generals would know. They’d merely be told that I had allowed a second fight, perhaps that I had finally accepted the honor of meeting General Som in a real battle. It wouldn’t be a fight of a usurper taking over another’s House—it would be a general defending her own people. The fact that I was dead would simply be an unfortunate side note.
The House of Swords would fall to Gamon and never realize it’d been betrayed. It was so big, so far-flung, it could operate for years without the core generals or even Jiao realizing the truth, I suspected.
General Som didn’t address me as we reached the center of the valley. Her face was set and unsmiling as she lifted her sword. I was pretty sure there wasn’t going to be a referee’s whistle signaling play, but I took an extra minute anyway, staring her down.
“You didn’t need Gamon’s backing to fight me,” I said, and Som’s coal-black eyes flicked to mine. “You could have done it on your own.”
“I didn’t ally with her to fight you.” Her words were cool, measured. “I allied with her a long time ago. To destroy Soo. You are simply the last piece of that destruction.”
Another piece fell into place. “The attack in the Bellagio,” I said. “That’s how Gamon got in.”
General Som didn’t respond—she didn’t have to, and my own attention was now squarely focused on her as well. It didn’t matter how we had both come to this place. It only mattered that we were here. The Honjo transferred from my side to my hands in one smooth movement. I loosed the scabbard and let it drop to the desert floor, then paced to the right as Som stepped left, the two of us measuring the other and finding the opponent wanting.
As I had in the lobby of the Luxor, I could feel the surge of Armaeus’s dark magic. Only now I wasn’t seeing auras but raw power. The flicker of magic that rippled through me was fanning to a higher flame, and the Honjo twisted, practically shivering in my hands. This was not the kind of magic I knew how to handle. It was the darkest depths that Armaeus had plumbed in his own psyche. Fitting that it should be called upon to combat a warrior who followed the blackest of dark practitioners.
“You have no true skills,” General Som said, her gaze tracking me. “The Honjo will not save you twice, because you are not worthy of being saved.” Her lips curled. “You’re not worthy even of carrying it.”
“How much is Gamon giving you?” I asked in return. “Is it money only? Or are you souped up on her technoceuticals too?” I pressed the point as her glare intensified. “Good old General Som, taking out all comers gunning for the House of Swords. Of course you took them out. You wanted all the goodies for yourself.” Another truth flared before me, obvious and sure. “You set up your fellow generals in that parking lot at the Palazzo. Anything you could do to level the playing field, huh?”
“It’s my House to lead.” Som fairly spat the words. “Soo was weak, and she chose yet more weakness to succeed her.” She scowled as she shifted to the left, and I moved in concert with her, knowing she was shifting to give her better placement in the sun. “Weakness and lies. I lived for two decades in the shadow of Angkor Wat. You cannot tell me that you found the blade there.”
That was an unexpected turn to the conversation, and I blinked rapidly, trying to keep up. “Maybe you didn’t look hard enough.”
“Or maybe it is not the true sword of Masamune.” She waved her blade. “We will see, I think. This is a sword of Muramasa, and it is not benevolent. It will cut down all comers.” She sneered. “Even you.
I pivoted in perfect synchronicity with her, and the darkness within me coiled, ready to strike. “I think you’ll find out pretty quickly exactly what my sword is—and isn’t,” I said.
Her eyes caught and held mine, and once again, as I had first with Ma-Singh, his body riddled with the bullets of Som’s snipers, I could see not merely Som’s eyes but the mind behind those eyes. I could see deep into the soul of General Som and know that there was nothing but darkness there, an empty husk that was neither alive nor dead but something hovering in between, tranqued on technoceuticals and the false promises of a living god.
She sprang.
We crashed together like a single creature, meeting sword against sword. As it had before, the reverberation of Som’s sword rattled my arms and almost knocked the Honjo loose in my hands, but I gripped the hilt more firmly and brought it up high again. Som fell back, circling, her expression fierce with exultation.
“We are met on the true battlefield at last,” she crowed, her smile not reaching her eyes. I knew she was trying to draw me out, bait me. She was succeeding. “You should have taken Gamon’s offer to step aside. It was made in earnest. She did not want you to die.” General Som smirked. “Far better for her to be able to harvest your living eyes and heart and spleen, still wrapped in your screams.”
“So pretty much this is a lose-lose for you guys. I get it.” The Magician’s power hissed inside me, curdling my stomach, filling my veins with fire. When our swords crashed again and fell away, something flickered in the general’s eyes.
Not yet, a voice whispered in my mind. Not yet.
It wasn’t the Magician’s voice, but it was born of the same darkness he’d stoked. And it was a voice I didn’t know if I should trust.
General Som and I turned again and again, clashing, then breaking apart, our thrusts and parries growing longer and fiercer with each turn. She fought hard—driving me to the side and pinning me against a
wall, making me defend from every angle until I scrambled back into open territory. She was my superior in all ways, but it still took me by surprise when she lurched forward and thrust again, her sword not taking long sweeping strokes any longer but short jabbing thrusts that set me back on my heels as she half chased me across the canyon floor. I finally ducked beneath her arm and arced the sword around, forcing her to parry and stumble back. She lost her footing momentarily and stumbled to the ground.
I should have struck. I could have. The Honjo fairly sang with the knowledge that this was a fair and worthy opponent, someone who did not need to be spared. The benevolent sword would gladly take its due in the blood and bone of General Som. I simply needed to act.
Not yet, the mocking voice whispered, creeping out of the darkness that shifted and eddied within me, a molten pit. Not yet.
And then my chance was lost.
General Som and I battled once more across the canyon floor, but I was flagging—fast it seemed, faster than I should. Now the darkness was lost in laughter, a rich and rolling pleasure that slowed the blood in my veins and weighed down my bones. I could barely lift the sword, and the pleasure of my pain was so bright and full and once again…so strangely familiar that I left my side unguarded, flinching back only at the last moment as General Som’s blade raked across my arm, laying open layers of my shirt and drawing blood.
“You fool,” the voice in my head sneered. A familiar voice. My voice. “You were never the fighter you should have been, never strong enough to make your own decisions. And now you will die for it.”
“No!” I gritted out, bringing the Honjo up to strike at General Som, startling her. She’d seen my blood and could taste the win. “I will not die!”
Som’s eyes flew wide as I spun, moving faster than I could have imagined. I struck and parried and struck again, and she fell back, her eyes shifting, her face flushed, her arms spinning as her hands darted in and out, the magic in her own sword finally coming to the fore.
