Shadow Blade (34 page)

The Avatar steepled his fingers, his white suit brilliant against the black chair. “You came alone?”

“In the end, aren’t we all alone?”

The hybrid she’d punched hobbled up to him. “She came alone, Master.”

“Go clean yourself up. You embarrass me.” Enig turned back to her. “I must say that when our host told me that you would arrive today with the Dagger of Kheferatum, I was tempted to discount him. And yet, here you are. Why did you change your mind?”

“Kinda had my mind changed for me, didn’t I?” She allowed her real anger at the Avatar to bubble to the surface as she took the chair opposite his.
Use the true fury to fuel the deception.
“Whatever you did to me was, pardon the expression, enlightening. The clock’s running down on my time at Gilead, I already knew that, and your little display a few days ago left a permanent stain on my soul. If I am no longer worthy of my goddess’s favor or walking in the Light, what else is there left for me?”

Enig looked at Demoz, who looked at her. The vampire’s
midnight face
dripped sweat. He actually looked worried and more than a little uneasy.

He pulled out a handkerchief, blotted his forehead. “She means every word,” he said, his voice tight. “She’s telling the truth.”

“So you have it?
The Dagger of Kheferatum?”

She reached for the sheath nestled between her shoulder blades, the dagger singing softly as she pulled it free. She held it across her body, the glyphs catching the light. “Is this what you’ve been looking for?”

Enig leaned forward, preternaturally beautiful face tarnishing with greed. “How were you able to get it away from the Nubian?”

“There’s blood on the blade,” Demoz said, his voice hushed.

“Yeah, about that.”
Kira let a grin pull at her lips. “It’s amazing what you can do to people when they make the mistake of trusting you.”

“Too true,” Enig murmured. “For example, I do not trust you, Shadowchaser.”

“And I really don’t care.” She rose. “You want the blade or not?”

Enig rose. “Try to leave and I will kill you.”

“Dude, I’m dead already. The Nubian’s going to be pissed when he resurrects and Gilead’s not going to be happy with me either. All I want are the answers you promised me.”

“And you shall have them.” He held out his hand. “Give the dagger to me.”

“Sure.” She twirled the dagger so that the hilt pointed his way. “If you think that the dagger will accept you, go ahead,
take
it.”

He reached out.

“But I have to warn you—if the dagger doesn’t like you, it will definitely let you know.”

His eyes fixed on hers. She maintained the stare, her arm steady as she held the dagger out. Movement out of the corner of her eye as she noticed his hand come up, wrap around the dagger’s hilt.

His face split into a grin. “I knew sparing your life in Venice was the right thing to do.”

“
Wh-
what did you say?”

“I told you, Shadowchaser, I’ve been planning this for a long time, making plans, gathering weapons. I discovered you in Venice. How do you think your precious Nico acquired the serum that stripped your powers? You do remember that, don’t you? It was such a beautiful night.”

Blood pounded in her ears. “You killed Nico.”

“No, my dear Chaser.
I didn’t make you take the potion. You willingly gave up your powers, even though you knew the consequences. And I knew then that a Shadowchaser so willing to part with her blade and her powers would be a perfect weapon for me to use one day.” Enig’s smile widened. “And so you are.”

He pulled the dagger out of her limp hand. “The Dagger of Kheferatum is mine!”

“I don’t think so.”

Khefar stood in the doorway, blade in one hand.

“What is this?” Enig hissed.

“Call it an intervention.” She pulled her Lightblade, called her power.

Both she and Khefar leaped at the same time. Just as she hoped, Enig hopped onto the slab of quartz. As Khefar kept the Avatar distracted, she slapped the slick surface with her bare hand, flooding it with power. It triggered the spell Zoo had buried into the hilt of the fake dagger. A prism of blue-white light shot up from the gleaming slab of stone, encircling Enig.

He screamed. Energy crackled and hummed, lifting her hair. Kira channeled more power into the slab, supercharging the giant crystal, counting on its properties to amplify her ability and literally separate the Fallen from its Avatar host.

Yellow light flared as Enig threw Shadow-magic at the metaphysical sieve. Kira grimly held on, hoping that Zoo’s second spell had kicked in and the impostor dagger was on its way to deteriorating.
Hoping too that Khefar had her back and was making short work of the Shadowlings stupid enough to stay around.

Sweat stung her eyes, pain throbbing through her body. “Separate, damn you!”

Pressure built like a tornado was approaching, filling every crevice of the room. Enig shrieked
,
throwing raw Chaos at the prism trapping him as his two selves finally began to separate into a human husk and a twisting boiling darkness.
Now.
She focused her intent again, trying to channel the Fallen into the quartz. A sonic boom ripped through the office, shattering the soundproof windows overlooking the club, followed by popping that sounded like gunfire. Was that Gilead’s team making their presence known or the quartz overloading?

Kira blinked rapidly. Either complete silence had fallen or the boom had deafened her. She couldn’t hear the ceiling crashing down around them, couldn’t hear the crystal cracking beneath her hands,
couldn’t
hear Khefar shouting as he tried to reach her.
Couldn’t hear anything until the Avatar, bits of the Fallen still clinging to him, slammed into her, the remnant of the impostor dagger sinking deep into her shoulder.

The momentum carried them through the now-glassless window overlooking the club floor. She reacted on pure instinct, swinging her Lightblade up, her blade gleaming blue-white as she gathered her force. Screaming with effort, she swung, slicing diagonally through the Avatar’s throat and collarbone just before they crashed into the Pit.

Chapter 28

K
ira!”

Khefar vaulted over the railing, landing in the Pit beside her. The remnants of the Avatar were already beginning to disintegrate, but enough of it had been beneath her to break her fall. Unfortunately, breakage was the least of his worries.

Carefully, carefully, he turned her onto her back, ignoring the people rushing around them. A large welt had been carved into her vest, but the thick leather seemed to have deflected most of the brunt of the blow. A portion of the imitation dagger stuck out of her right shoulder. The blade
glowed
a sickly yellow color.

Khefar muttered a curse. The Fallen, before complete separation, had charged the knife with Chaos magic before the Avatar stabbed her.

He decided against warning her, pulling the blade free before she could tense up or he could change his mind. It didn’t matter that the blade had missed vital organs or veins. The purpose had been to infect her again with Shadow magic, to poison her already compromised system.

“Gods, it burns.” She clutched at him, her skin burning blue as her body tried to fight the toxins invading her system.

“I know, but you have to fight. You’ve got to be strong for a little while longer.”

She grimaced on a wave of pain. “Did I slow him down?”

“Yeah.”
He held her close, but not
close
enough, never close enough. He pressed his hand against her wound in a futile effort to halt the inevitable. “You killed the Avatar, but there’s no sign of the Fallen controlling it.”

“
It .
 . . will have to be enough. The Fallen is at least weakened if not annihilated. The
crystal .
 . . all the pieces need to be gathered up. Take them to Gilead so they can be stored away in a barrel of purified salt, just in case.”

“I will.”

“Khefar.”
She coughed, sweat beading on her forehead. “You have to do it, Khefar. You have to unmake me.”

Holy Mother Isis, had she intended to die all along?
“Why did you do it? Why?”

“
Scales .
 . . had to balance my scales. Maybe now the Light will take me, Ma’at willing. But if the poison is too
much .
 . . you need to use your dagger on me.”

“No! You’re not going to die today. Do you hear me?”

She smiled up at him. “
It’s
okay, Khefar. This is a good way to go. If you unmake me, the Fallen won’t get me. Just sorry you couldn’t take me off your total.”

The rattle.
He heard it, the sound of death filling her body. “No!”

She couldn’t die. Not this one. Not this one, most of all. Khefar slashed his dagger across his wrist, opening the large vein. He pressed the wound against the puncture in her shoulder, mingling his blood with hers.

“Live for me,” he whispered, drawing her close to him once again. “By the Light, you must live.”

He did not know if this crude transfusion would work or not. His blood had been circulating in his body for four millennia; surely it was part of the key to him surviving his most grievous wounds. If it could fight the poison, if it could keep her here, he would gladly give every drop of blood he had.

Anansi materialized beside him. “My boy, what have you done?”

“Help her,” he demanded. “We may not worship you but we believe in you. Do something!”

Lethargy settled into his limbs as he slumped against the stone column. He could feel his soul struggling against the bonds of his body, wanting to break free. He longed to do just that, if only to find Kira’s soul and return it to her shell.

The darkness brightened, a pearlescent gleam piercing the Veil of Death. The light began to take shape and form, flowing locks from the top of it, then a face, then the hint of limbs. A representative of the Powers of
Light,
sent in the form of a crone.

“Kira,” the being said without moving its lips.
“Come, child. It is time to take you home.”

As near to the dying as he was, Khefar could see Kira’s spirit hovering just above her ravaged body, trying to join with it again. “No,” he protested, a feeble sound of voice and soul. “Do not take her. Please don’t take her.”

“Why not?” the being asked.
“You would deny her the rest she deserves?”

“Never.
But I would keep her here for now.”

“There will be another life for you to save, Khefar,” the crone said with compassion. “Even now it can be revealed to you. Your journey will soon be at an end.”

“My journey could last
another
millennia,” Khefar declared, “if it would keep her here with those who love her. I have never asked the Powers of Light for anything in the last four millennia. I would ask this of them.”

The being drew closer, hovering between him and Kira. “Why this life?” she asked. “Of the thousands you have saved and the dozens you have lost, why does this life matter so greatly?”

“Because she’s special.
I know it and you know it.”

The being remained silent for a long moment, eyes closed. Khefar waited, staying conscious with effort of will until the dark spheres opened once again. “Would you sacrifice your quest for this one, my child? Would you turn from your existence to grant this wish?”

Kira’s spirit opened its mouth, but no sound came out. Khefar knew she would not want him to sacrifice himself for her, but he knew he would do it anyway, anytime, anywhere. He dropped a kiss to her cold forehead. “I would,” he whispered. “She wants to stay. She wants to return to her body. I give of myself gladly so that it may be so.”

The crone bowed her head once. “Then let it be done.”

She stretched out a hand, engulfing Khefar in a blanket of light. He felt his spirit draining from his body and smiled. Even if he would know only darkness, it was a sacrifice he was willing to make to give Kira her life back.

Chapter 29

K
ira knew this place.

The Hall of
Souls,
lined with thrones gleaming gold in torchlight upon which sat the gods and goddesses of the Two Lands. She saw the jackal-headed Anubis, the Great Mother Isis, Her Consort
Osiris .
 . . and so many more. Before her were the gilded scales, standing as tall as she, with her patron goddess, Ma’at, beside them.

Kira’s legs could not hold her. She hit the ground, hard. Of its own accord, her body pitched forward until her forehead pressed the ground as if to hold it in place.
Ma’at, protect me.

“Lord of the Dead, Great Osiris,” a voice intoned. “Two souls—a new soul and an old soul—are come before us.”

The import of the words struck her.
Two souls?
Who else would be here at this time, with these gods, with her? She became aware of another presence, muted by the majesty of the gods, kneeling beside her.

Khefar.
He stretched out beside her, as still and silent as she. They were both to have their souls weighed.

Fear drove out every ritual spell and prayer she’d memorized for this day. Her Book of the Dead was nowhere to be seen, still safely ensconced in her altar room. She could hear the growling hunger of Ammit the Devourer. She could not let Khefar’s heart be lost.

“The old soul has endured much,” the god—she realized it must be Anubis, guide and friend of the dead, speaking—continued. “Is there one here who will speak for him?”

“I will speak for him,” a feminine all-voice intoned. “He is
My
child and he has done what I have asked of him, willingly and without complaint, and at great personal cost.”

Though Kira didn’t dare look up, she saw the beautiful golden light brighten, felt the presence of the goddess move closer. She trembled and felt Khefar do the same.