The Spirit Rebellion: The Legend of Eli Monpress: Book 2

CHAPTER 21

Nico crouched, panting. Sted was walking toward her, panting as well, but his sword didn’t waver. They’d been going around the room for what felt like hours, neither able to land a finishing blow. Nico was too fast, and Sted was, so far as she could tell, uninjurable. He didn’t even defend when she leaped at him, but always went on the offensive, and the maze of long, bleeding cuts running across her body was all she had to show for her efforts.

But it wouldn’t last much longer. Already she’d dipped too deep into the demon’s power. The blackness was swimming over her vision, and she could feel her eyes burning, which meant they were glowing with the unnatural light. She was getting very close to the edge.

Normally she wouldn’t be concerned. She’d gone over the edge and come back before, and it was worth the risk if it meant she could do what needed to be done. But this time was different. This time there was no Josef waiting to bring her back. She slid between the shadows, watching as Sted circled in the dark, racking her brain for a way to finish this quickly, when a voice whispered deep in her ear.

Why not let go?

Nico froze midstep. The words echoed in her mind, but the voice wasn’t Sted’s. It came from inside her ears, from the dark blotch deep behind her conscious mind.

Embrace what you really are. We could crush him like a bug in one blow, him and that rabid dog sword of his.

Nico began to breathe heavily. The voice was cold and soft and somehow nostalgic, but she couldn’t actually remember hearing it before. In answer to that thought, the voice began to chuckle, and Nivel’s warning came back to Nico in a cold rush of sudden understanding: Never listen to the voice. Never acknowledge it.

Nico fled the shadows and dropped to the ground behind a crate, slamming a wall down between her mind and the voice. It was happening. She was losing control, just as Nivel had said she would. But Josef was relying on her. She had to hold on, had to beat Sted. Now was not the time to go soft.

As if to prove the point, the boards on the other side of her hiding place began to creak. Sted was moving toward her, dragging his sword along the crates, methodically breaking up every hiding place. Nico crouched in the shadow, examining her options, but any way she came at it, the situation looked hopeless. She’d matched Sted strength for strength, bashed his skull hard enough to crumple it to dust, but even after her best blows, Sted was uninjured. His skin was still whole and without so much as a bruise. Nico bit her lip. He couldn’t be unbeatable. No one was unbeatable, but she’d tried everything.

Everything? The voice chuckled. You haven’t begun to try. What are you doing, anyway? Dancing around in circles, trying the same things over and over, like they’ll somehow come out differently this time. How stupid.

Nico slapped her hands over her ears, but unbidden, driven by a force other than herself, her eyes flicked to Sted’s shoulder and the narrow sinews bending under his impenetrable skin.

Nico closed her eyes. This was too much. She couldn’t fight Sted and the voice. She cracked her eyelids, and her vision snapped back to Sted’s shoulder.

The strongest are only as strong as their weakest point, the voice said, smooth as honey. One hit and you’ll have the victory even Josef couldn’t manage.

Nico frowned. For all that she knew she shouldn’t listen, it was a good idea. Certainly better than her other options. Knowing she would probably regret this, but seeing no other option, she slid forward. Sted was nearly on top of her, though still clueless. For a League member, he was laughably bad at finding demons. She held her breath, waiting until the very last moment, as his hand was reaching for the lip of the crate that covered her. The moment his fingers wrapped around the splintered wood, she leaped.

She grabbed his sword arm and swung up, moving so quickly he could do nothing but watch as she landed feet-first on his shoulder. As soon as she had her footing, Nico reached down and grabbed Sted’s arm at the elbow with both hands, planting her feet on his shoulder, just like the image the voice had shown her in her mind. Pressing her feet against his straining shoulder right at the joint, she brought his arm up and back with all her strength until, with a sickening pop, she felt his shoulder snap through her boot.

Sted screamed, and there was a great crash as his sword fell to the ground from his limp hand. It was a temporary victory, however. Sted’s shoulder was only dislocated, not broken. Before he could recover, she needed to do some permanent damage. So, almost before the sword had hit the ground, she swung sideways, wrapping her legs around his thick neck and, using her motion as torque, threw him sideways. Overbalanced from his huge bulk, Sted slammed to the ground. He tried to catch his fall with his uninjured arm, but Nico was too quick. She kept moving, grabbing his arm and stepping sideways so that he landed on his stomach with her on his back, her foot stamped on his remaining good shoulder and his arm bent backward in her grip.

He was trapped beneath her, unable to move without breaking his own arm. Slowly, pleasurably, Nico bent his arm back over her knee, grinning as the bones groaned under the pressure, ready to snap. But as she bent his arm toward the breaking point, something deep inside her smiled, and her fingers began to move on their own. Her nails stabbed into Sted’s arm, digging into the flesh. Panic-blind and terrified, Nico tried to let go, but her limbs weren’t listening. Deep in her mind, the voice began to laugh, and, a second later, her fingers broke Sted’s iron skin.

Sted’s power flooded into her. His thoughts, strength, memories, and experiences flashed through her mind before vanishing into the maw of the dark thing clawing its way up out of the well of her soul. The manacles on her wrists beat against her, the metal glowing white hot, searing her skin. But the pain was far away, overwhelmed by the torrent in her mind. Beneath her feet, she could feel Sted screaming, but she heard nothing. The entire world had shrunk to the power flowing into her and the creature that ate it, leaving no room for Nico at all.

Her mind was being squeezed, her consciousness trampled beneath the demonseed as it devoured Sted. She was slipping away from her own soul, and as she scrambled to stay in her skull, she could hear the demon laughing. The moment the sound touched her, fear turned to anger and, without knowing what she did or how, Nico slammed the full force of her wizard’s will down on the connection holding the demon to Sted. The voice cried out in pain, the sound of it threatening to tear her skull apart, and her hand ripped free of Sted’s arm, and the connection of power snapped shut.

The enormous man collapsed, and Nico flew off him, thrown by the force of her own command. She landed hard on her back, gasping for air, and in her head, she could almost hear Nivel’s voice shouting at her-never take the demon’s advice.

Never take my advice? the voice said crossly. My advice brought us closer to victory in five minutes than the last half hour of your jumping around. You were the one who wasted our chance, all because you’re too cowardly to embrace your true power.

But Nico wasn’t listening anymore. Slowly, painfully, she sat up. Sted was still on the ground, clutching his bleeding arm. He looked up when he heard her move, his eyes murderous.

“That’s it, monster,” he growled, pushing himself up. He rolled his neck, popping his dislocated shoulder back into place. “No more running. Now you die.”

I can finish him for you if you get behind him now, the voice whispered. Don’t be an idiot.

Nico clenched her fists and held her ground, watching Sted’s approach with glowing eyes.

Why keep pretending you have a chance without me? the voice said softly. Everything that makes you worthwhile, your speed, your toughness, your strength, the ability to move through shadows, it all comes from me. Do you think Josef would keep you around if I wasn’t with you? The thief certainly wouldn’t. He tolerates you only so long as you’re useful. Face it, little girl, I am what makes your life worth living. Without me you’re nothing but a stupid, weak, ugly creature. No one likes you. No one cares if you live or die, except me.

Nico pressed her eyes closed, willing the voice away, but it went on, smooth and dark, seeping into her mind. You think that by ignoring me you can somehow change things? Do you think you’ve done any of this on your own? No. I have given you everything, gifts beyond measure, power beyond your deserving. I have saved your life more times than I can count. You’ve been using my power from the very beginning. Why deny it now? I want to live just as much as you do, so let me help you. All you have to do is let me in, let me control you, take care of you, and you’ll never have to be weak again.

“Shut up!” Nico screamed. The words ripped out of her, and even Sted paused, taken aback.

“This is my body,” Nico said. “Since I can remember, all you’ve done is make everything think I’m a monster. There’s no place for you here. So just shut up and go away!”

The warehouse fell silent. Sted was watching her warily, looking for a trap, but Nico couldn’t have attacked even if she’d been planning to. Her body was lead beneath her, frozen in place as the dark thing began to crawl back into the well of her soul.

No place, you say? The voice was haughty and cold, sliding like wire through her mind. After everything I’ve given you… It sighed in disgust. I think it’s time for you to learn, little girl, just how worthless you are without me.

She felt a faint pressure, like a hand on her mind, and then the voice was gone. Suddenly, Nico could move again, and scarcely in time, for Sted was standing over her, his glowing sword washing everything with its blood-red light. Nico flinched and slid sideways to escape into the shadows.

Nothing happened. She blinked in confusion. Jumping through shadows was something she did as easily as breathing. She’d never really thought about how she did it, but now… it was like a door had closed. Even as this realization took root in her head, she felt something else she wasn’t accustomed to feeling-pain. Crippling pain shot up her limbs, running in long, burning lines across her chest, her arms, her face as the cuts Sted had landed during their fight, cuts that had healed instantly, reopened. All at once, blood was everywhere. Her head felt heavy and dark, and even the red light of Sted’s sword began to dim as her vision darkened, yet she could not escape. The shadows were closed to her. Her body felt small and weak and beaten, and she knew without testing that her strength was gone as well, along with everything the demonseed had given her.

She had just one moment to look up and watch the shadow of Sted raise his blade before the jagged sword tore into her. Pain exploded through her body, and Nico felt herself flying, carried by the force of the blow. She landed on her back, skidding across the floor until, finally, she hit a crate and lay still. The pain was blinding, overwhelming, and it was all she could do to keep breathing in tiny wheezing gasps. The world was getting darker, colder, and further away.

She gasped, choking on her blood. But even as she desperately fought for breath, the voice spoke in her ear.

It doesn’t have to end like this, it whispered, sweet and soft. All you have to do is surrender. Give yourself over to me, and I will save you. You will have everything you lost and more. You’ll never be weak or alone again.

Nico closed her eyes and focused on her breathing.

The thing in Nico’s mind gave a long, deep sigh as Sted’s fingers wrapped around her neck. A failure to the end. This is twice now you’ve failed me. And to think, you used to be the strongest demon in the world.

With one final, desperate shove, Nico pushed the voice away. When her eyes met Sted’s, they were dark and human again.

“It’s over,” he hissed.

Nico set her jaw and pinned her hands at her side so her demon couldn’t try eating him again. This was it, she knew. After trying so hard, this was it. Still, she’d never give in to the demon, not even to keep living. Tears welled up in her eyes at that thought, and she murmured an apology to Josef. She’d tried to keep going, to cling to life, but the price was just too high. Still, she kept breathing as Sted raised his sword, pressing the sharp tip against her ribs, just below her heart. So long as she was alive, she had hope, even now.

Hope, the demon sneered. A stupid, human concept.

“That’s the idea,” she whispered back.

Her last thought before closing her mind was Josef as she’d first met him, leaning over her on the snowy mountain slope, telling her to breathe. Then the sword came down, and the world vanished.

Josef floated in darkness. He was in pain, horrible pain, but he couldn’t see where. His body was missing, lost somewhere in the blackness. It was just him and the pain and the darkness that went on and on and on forever.

“I’m dead,” Josef said. It was as much an experiment to see if he could speak as a test to see how that statement felt. The words made no sound, which made sense, considering, but they felt very real when he said them.

Don’t be stupid, a voice answered from the darkness. If you were dead, you wouldn’t be in pain.

Josef flinched. It was the Heart’s voice, and if he was hurt enough to hear it, things must be really bad. On the other hand, if the sword was talking, it probably knew what was going on, which meant it was time for some answers.

“If I’m not dead,” Josef said, “where am I, and how do I get out?”

You are almost dead, the Heart answered. I caught your life a moment before it flickered out. I am keeping it alive by holding it next to my own until you decide what you’re going to do.

“What do you mean, ‘I decide’?” Josef said. “What’s there to decide? I’m not going to die to someone like Sted.”

I’m afraid things are no longer that simple, Josef Liechten, the Heart said and sighed. We were defeated utterly. Struck down. And do you know why?

Josef felt a twinge of shame. “Because I’m not strong enough.”

Correct, the Heart thundered.

Josef choked. The Heart’s answer struck him harder than any of Sted’s blows.

The Heart sighed. I’ve been waiting for a defeat like this to make you understand. You think you know what it means to be strong, but every time a fight pushes you, you wait until the last moment to draw me, then treat my blade as a guaranteed victory, an undefeatable weapon.

“I have to,” Josef said. “You’re too strong. You agreed I’m not good enough, but how can I get better if your power blows everything away? You’re the greatest awakened sword ever made, but I’m the one bleeding to death on the floor, not Sted. Obviously, the weakness is with me. I have to fix it before I can move forward.”

Fights you can win with dull swords are not the ones that make you better, the Heart said. Every time you fight you handicap yourself, pushing me aside for your dull blades, thinking that doing so will make you stronger. But real strength doesn’t come from such cheap tricks. Real strength comes from fighting at the edge of your ability, pushing yourself past the last inch of your resolve with everything you have.

Rage filled Josef, and he started to answer, but the Heart cut him off.

I chose you as my wielder because I thought you understood this. But from the moment I allowed you to grasp my hilt, you’ve done nothing but avoid my powers. Not once have you used me to my full potential. You draw me only as a last resort, a final blow.

“But-”

I did not bind myself to you to stay cooped up in a sheath!

Josef flinched at the anger in the sword’s voice, but he could not deny what it said.

These last few years we’ve been together as two parts, the Heart said, sword and man, without understanding. If you wish to leave this place, if you wish to defeat Sted, this must change. I am not your trump card, not your guaranteed out. I am a sword, your sword. You’ve come this far on your own, but no farther. If you want to survive, Josef Liechten, then we must emerge from this together, as a swordsman, or not at all.

“But I don’t understand,” Josef said. “You want us to work together? How? I hear you only at times like this, when I’m almost dead. Am I going to have to take a mortal wound every time I want to fight, just so we can talk?”

The Heart rumbled. Do you think you’re my first non-wizard wielder? Do you think I would have chosen you to carry me if I thought you were incapable of truly being my swordsman?

Josef shook his head. “I don’t see-”

Do you always need to speak to know why a person fights?

“No,” Josef said. “But-”

Do you need words to understand why a sword cuts?

Josef took a deep breath. “No.”

Good. He could hear the Heart smile. You begin to understand. Listen well, Josef Liechten. If we are to fight together, you must see me for what I am, a part of yourself, another facet of your own power. To do that, you must push aside your thinking mind, the mind that requires words, and understand me with what lies deeper.

Josef clenched his teeth. The Heart was starting to sound like Eli’s wizard talk. “You mean like a wizard?”

No, the Heart said in disgust. I mean like a spirit.

Josef shook his head. “I still don’t understand.”

You will, the Heart promised. Open your eyes.

“What?” They were open, or he thought they were.

This close to death, even you should be able to see. The Heart’s words were an avalanche. Open your eyes!

Josef did. The darkness was gone; the pain was gone. He was floating high in a blue sky filled with clouds, and before him, rising like a great wave from the land, was a mountain like none he had ever seen. It was taller than anything in the world, its edges sharp and straight as a blade. Its snowcapped peak cut the sky, slicing clouds as they passed, while its wide base spread for miles and miles in all directions, its roots deeper than humans could comprehend. It stood perfectly sharp, proud and tall, unmovable, unbreakable, and the moment Josef saw it, he understood.

The mountain vanished, and he felt something in his hand. He looked down and saw he was holding the Heart of War. The black sword looked the same as ever, and yet different. When he looked at the blade, the memory of the mountain flashed across his mind.

You have seen my true nature. The Heart’s voice was deep and warm. Do you still need words, Josef Liechten?

“No,” Josef said, tightening his grip on the sword.

The Heart of War laughed, a deep, rumbling sound, and Josef woke.

He was alone, and in a different place from where he’d fallen. Crates were stacked high around him and his wound had been bound, though the bloodstains told him how useful that would have been if the Heart had not intervened. He looked down at the sword in his hand for a long moment, like he was seeing it for the first time.

The path to true strength is not easily walked. The Heart’s voice was more like a memory than a sound now. Now that we’ve started, there’s no going back. I hope you’re prepared to bet your life on this.

“I always have,” Josef whispered. “Every single time.”

A great feeling of laughter welled up in his head, and the sword’s hilt settled hard in Josef’s hand. He gripped it with a grin and, using the sword as a prop, began the long, painful process of sitting up. When he was about halfway there, he heard a crash. He froze, listening. It was the sound of something hitting the floor, something small and human. He was on his feet at once, creeping up the pile of crates just in time to see Sted panting over something on the floor. It was dark, but he would know that shape anywhere, the slender back, the long, thin arms lying limp on the floor, the pale, pale skin.

Rage filled him to boiling, painting the room in a wash of angry color. Rage at Sted, at himself for letting this happen, at Nico for not running from a fight she couldn’t win. Hadn’t he taught her anything? But the sword weighed heavy in his grip, bringing him down, telling him what must be done.

Even so, Josef wasn’t the kind of man to fall on an opponent from behind with no warning.

“Sted!”

The cry echoed through the warehouse, and the enormous swordsman looked up just in time to see Josef leap, the Heart of War held high over his head. The sword felt heavy in his hands, yet Josef could swing it with ease, even more so than before. The blade answered his every movement like it was part of his hand rather than something clasped inside it, and Josef felt a rush like never before as the Heart’s triumphant cackle rolled through him.

For a moment Sted just stood there, staring, and then he started to raise his sword to defend. But this time he was too slow. Josef was already on top of him, swinging the Heart with all his rage. The black blade hit Sted in the side with the weight of a mountain. There was a great iron gong, and Sted flew backward, slamming into the front wall of the warehouse with a crash that cracked the wooden supports.

Panting from the force of the blow and keeping one eye on Sted’s slumped body, Josef limped over to Nico. He’d seen plenty of violence in his time, but she was still hard to look at. An enormous wound ran down her chest, as though Sted had been trying to gut her. Still, he told himself, this was Nico. She was about as killable as a rock wall.

Josef knelt down to check her breathing. Sure enough, he could feel it, a faint breeze on his fingers, and he let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. She was alive. He let himself savor the realization before forcing it down again, turning to face Sted’s twitching body. She was alive, and it was his job now to make sure she stayed that way.

Across the warehouse, Sted groaned and retched, coughing up a streak of bright blood. He stared at it in shock before turning his hateful glare on Josef. Keeping a hand to his side, he stood slowly, pushing himself up by painful inches.

“I’m impressed,” he gasped, spitting out another mouthful of blood as he got to his feet at last. “You broke a rib. How long has it been since someone did that? Not for years now.” He bared his bloody teeth at Josef. “You’ll pay for that.”

“If we’re paying blood for blood,” Josef said, “I think you owe us far more.”

Sted grabbed his sword again. “What does it take to kill you?” he grumbled. “This time I’ll cut off your cursed head!”

His threat turned into a scream as he began to charge. Instinctively, Josef turned to jump out of the way, but the Heart would not move. For one panicked moment, he stared at the blade. Then he quieted, and understood. Josef planted his feet firmly, in the position shield troops call Bracing the Mountain, and held the Heart in front of him, broad side out, like a shield. There, firm as bedrock, he met Sted’s charge.

The swords clashed in a scream of twisting metal and flashing sparks. Sted was snarling, his sword red as fresh blood, pushing with all his strength. The blood rage crashed into Josef, but the swordsman did not break his stance, and he did not move an inch.

Realizing his assault was useless, Sted began to swing wildly, using his superior height and reach to try and get around Josef’s iron guard. But everywhere Sted swung, the Heart was there. The great black sword and the man carrying it moved together, flicking from one position to the next with a speed unlike anything they’d shown earlier. Sted struck harder and harder, faster and faster, but Josef and the Heart met him blow for blow, each block flowing seamlessly into the next, and try as he might, Sted could not break the sword’s wall.

Finally, desperately, Sted lashed out with his entire body, throwing all his weight into his attack. This time, when the jagged sword met the Heart’s dented surface, the glowing blade snapped. It broke with a squeal of metal that made Josef’s ears ache, and Sted stumbled back. He held up his sword, now just a foot of toothy metal above the absurdly large hilt, and stared at it like a bewildered child. Then, with a cry of despair, hatred, and utter, devouring rage, he threw himself at Josef.

It was a wild charge. Sted thundered toward him, flailing with the broken sword as though it were still whole, running with his whole body to crush Josef beneath his weight.

It was then, in the madness, that Josef struck. He turned the Heart deftly in his hand, sliding the enormous blade around to meet Sted’s flailing arm. He didn’t look at the man’s bared teeth or his twitching muscles. He didn’t look at his own footwork, or how Sted was poised to crush him without the Heart as a barrier. Instead, he focused on the image the Heart had shown him, of the mountain’s peak cutting the clouds. He held it in his mind until the picture was burned into his vision, until the need to cut, the way of cutting, not as a sword cuts, but as a mountain cuts, was all he could feel. Only then did he swing his sword, his sword truly, for the first time, catching Sted in the left arm, just above his elbow.

The black, blunt blade of the Heart met Sted’s impenetrable skin, met and sliced it clean. The Heart cut straight through the flesh, through the bone, with no more resistance than a razor through spider webs. Then it met the air again, and Sted was falling, his arm cut clean off.

The enormous man collapsed on the floor, clutching the space where his arm had been. Josef spun around, taking up his guard again, but he didn’t need to. Sted was curled in a fetal position, clutching his broken sword with the only arm he had left while blood poured out of his wound onto the floor. Josef lowered his guard, resting the Heart’s tip on the floor, and Sted’s head whipped around to face him, his eyes burning with pure, horrible hatred.

“No,” he panted. “We’re not finished.” He forced himself up with his one remaining arm and grabbed the top of his broken sword, clutching the pieces together against his chest. “It’s not over.”

“No,” Josef answered. “It is. You are defeated, Berek Sted.”

Sted laughed, a horrible, wheezing sound. “You, you couldn’t defeat me in a hundred years,” he muttered. “You were lucky, that’s all. My sword broke. There’s no way you could have defeated me otherwise.”

“Luck had nothing to do with it,” Josef said. “Get out or bleed to death on the floor, your choice.” He swung the Heart over his shoulder and started toward Nico. “I’m finished with you.”

“I decide when we’re finished!” Sted roared. “Your name, swordsman of the Heart of War. Tell me your name!”

Josef stopped, looking back over his shoulder with a cold, dull glare. “Josef Liechten.”

Sted pushed himself to his knees. “See you soon, then, Josef Liechten.”

He gave Josef a final, bloody grin, and then said something Josef heard but could not understand. Suddenly, the light twisted around Sted, and a cut opened in the air. It was as though someone had taken a knife to the fabric of the world and cut a hole to another place, somewhere dark and lined with black stones. Sted fell backward, letting the tear in the world devour him, and then he was gone. No sound, no smoke-he simply was not there anymore.

Josef stared for a full minute at the bloody place where the swordsman had been. Even his cut-off arm was still on the ground, but the man was gone. He would have stared longer, but the Heart was heavy in his hand, pulling him toward Nico. Taking the hint, Josef decided to just ask Eli about it later, and he walked over to where Nico had fallen.

He had expected her to be sitting up by now. Nico’s ability to heal herself was something he took as a truth of the world. Yet Nico had not moved from where he’d left her, and even in the dark, he could see a darker stain on the floor around her. Fear began to grow inside him, and his walk turned into a run.

The first thing he checked was her breath again, which, though faint, was still there. His relief at that vanished when he looked at her chest. The wound from Sted’s sword was still open and bleeding. For some reason, her healing didn’t seem to be kicking in. He looked around frantically, searching for anything to use as a bandage to stop the bleeding when he felt something grasp his wrist.

He looked down to see Nico’s hand clutching his. Her eyes were open, dark and pleading as they looked at him, and her lips moved in a whisper he couldn’t understand.

“Say it again,” he said, leaning so that his ear was against her lips.

“My coat,” she whispered. “Find my coat.”

Josef nodded and glanced around. Her coat was piled on the floor not far from where she lay, and Josef grabbed it. He handed it to her, but the moment the black cloth touched her hand, it began to move on its own. The coat flowed around Nico’s body, wrapping itself across her like a cocoon, binding her wound and stanching the bleeding. In the space of a breath, she was completely bound, and Nico gave a long, relieved sigh.

“It protects me,” she whispered, looking at Josef again. “Just like Slorn said.”

Josef clutched her shoulders. “Nico, what’s happening?”

The girl looked away. “I’ll tell you”-she breathed-“later.”

And then she was out, and the coat slithered over her head, wrapping her completely, leaving Josef alone and confused.

“Powers,” he muttered. This was getting worse and worse. Nico was a bundle, he had no idea what was going on, and he had completely missed his part of old Monpress’s plan, which, if the growing sounds of chaos outside were any indication, was going very badly.

Nothing for it, he thought, standing up. He had to find Eli. If anyone could tell him what was wrong with Nico and get them out, it was the thief. Mission firmly in mind, Josef set to work. Using a length of fine table linen from one of the shattered crates, he wiped Sted’s blood off the Heart and tied it across his back. After settling the sword in place, he took a deep breath, bracing for the rush of exhaustion that always followed. But even when his hand let go of the hilt, he felt the same. Tired, beaten up, but no worse than he had when he was still holding the blade. On his back, the sword settled smugly into place, and Josef arched his eyebrows. Whatever had happened in that black place, it had done more than just bring him closer to his sword. Their partnership had changed; he was sure of it, though understanding the exact extent of the changes would have to wait until he had more time.

Next, because he knew he’d never hear the end of it if he forgot, he grabbed the Fenzetti blade from the corner where it had landed and hefted it on his shoulders. Finally, he gently lifted the black bundle that was Nico and held her against his chest. Going slowly so he wouldn’t jostle her too much, Josef walked to the door of the warehouse, which, miraculously, was whole and untouched. He opened it with a swift kick that took it off its hinges and stepped into the night. Clutching Nico carefully, he ran across the one remaining bridge over the now inexplicably glowing river. Soft, cold rain splattered on his shoulders, and he could hear people far away yelling, but the streets he could see were dark and empty. Ordinarily, this would have put him on his guard, but Josef was in too much of a hurry to worry about threats he couldn’t see. Instead, he picked up the pace, moving toward the citadel, Eli’s most likely location.

He only hoped the thief was alive to get them out of this.