Shadow Blade (31 page)

“Fail-safe?”

“Yeah.”
She unfolded from the couch,
then
placed her mug on the table before beginning to pace. Movement helped her think, to decide what to say.
“Sometimes, when I’m fighting or pulling Shadow out of artifacts, sometimes a little of it sticks.
Most of the time, my work with the Gilead Commission balances that out, balances me out.
Keeps me from sliding too far into Shadow.”

She turned to face him. “There are people out there who are waiting for me to lose the Balance, waiting to capitalize on that opportunity. I can’t let them. So I’d like to make a pact with you, that if I become Unbalanced, you’ll make sure that Shadow
doesn’t
get its hands on me.”

He rose,
then
folded his arms across his chest. “You want me to kill you.”

“No.” She lifted her chin. “I want you to uncreate me.”

“Uncreate you?” His eyes widened. “You mean, use the power of the Dagger of Kheferatum to erase your existence?”

She winced,
then
nodded. “Basically, yes. I can’t ask Wynne or Zoo to help. I don’t think they’d be able to do what needed doing when the time came. I can’t let anyone in Gilead know, and if they were sent after me, I’d probably fight them
and .
 . . and hurt them. I’ve had enough of hurting innocent people to last me a lifetime.”

She dragged air into her lungs. It felt like inhaling shards of ice. “It has to be you. You’re the only one strong enough. You’re the only one I’d let get close enough.”

“And you believe that you deserve this?”

“It’s not a question of what I deserve. It’s a question of what’s going to keep people safe. I might wait too long, think I could fight it, or think I’m not too far over the edge. My judgment would be impaired and I wouldn’t be able to make the right call.”

“How do you know your judgment isn’t impaired right now?” he demanded.

“I don’t. That’s why I need you to be the one who decides.”

“I can’t believe you’re asking me for this—this thing that goes against the very vow I made to Isis.” He made a cutting gesture with his hand. “I am here to protect you, not bring you to harm!”

“You’re here to save my life,” she corrected, willing him to understand what she wanted and why. “But I’d rather that you save my soul. What
if .
 . . what if instead of keeping me alive, you save my eternity by preventing me from hurting other innocents? What if by taking my life you save it, and dozens of others in the process?”

His frown deepened. “What if I refuse?”

She hadn’t considered the possibility that he’d refuse, that she couldn’t persuade him. Desperation plucked at her nerves. “Please don’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m close.”
The admission shot from her mouth like a projectile. But here, with him, she could say it. “I’m closer than I’ve ever been. When I was captured,
he .
 . . Enig did something to me. He damaged me. There’s Shadow living inside me now.”

“You don’t know that. Zoo and Anansi, they healed you, they got it all out.”

“Look at me.” She stepped close to him, wrapped her fingers around his wrist, and brought his hand up to her face. “Look at my eyes.”

He glared at her, even as his fingers moved gently along her cheek. His hand spasmed a moment before his eyes widened. “Gods, Kira.”

“Told you so.”
She tried for a smile but couldn’t make her lips curve. “They didn’t get all of the Shadow out. You can see it in my eyes. The color’s changed and not because of the magic they worked to heal me. I-I think there’s a permanent taint on my soul.”

He shook his head in denial. “You don’t know that. The Balance is in constant motion. You still have a chance to swing your soul back to Light.”

“Khefar, I don’t have that kind of time.” She gripped his hand that was cupping her cheek,
then
confessed, “When I went downstairs, I weighed my soul. My
soul .
 . . it was heavier than Ma’at’s feather. You know what that means.”

His expression dimmed. “I do. Your soul would be fed to the Devourer.”

“Ma’at has blessed me with a little time, but I can’t trust that I’ll be able to do the right thing when the point comes to choose. I can’t trust that I won’t flip out and murder more innocents. I can’t trust that I’d die and go straight to judgment. Shadow would find a way to prevent my soul from being given to the Devourer. So I need to know that I have an option, a trustworthy option. I need to know that there’s an out. I need that bit of hope to hold on to. I can’t let Shadow take me. I just can’t.”

She was shaking. She didn’t realize she was shaking until he knelt in front of her,
then
wrapped his hands around her fists.

“I will do this for you, Kira Solomon. I failed you once. I will not fail you again. If unmaking you will save your soul, then by my hand you will die. Know also that if letting you live will save your soul, then by my hand you will live. This I swear.”

The calm returned. Staring down into his strong features, she knew she could count on him. He’d spent four millennia saving lives and souls in a variety of ways. He would do this for her. She’d be able to take on Enig without fear, secure in the knowledge that if she lost, if Enig infected her again, Khefar would stop her.

As long as he was there, she’d never hurt innocents again.

“Thank you.” Relief liquefied her knees, forcing her to sit on the coffee table, the nearest surface. Her voice quavered beyond her ability to control it. “Oh, thank the gods you agreed. Just knowing that, I can breathe, I can do what I have to—gods, what is wrong with me?”

He leaned over her, hands outstretched. She immediately shrank away. “Don’t touch me.”

“Why not?”

“Because I want it too much.
Because I don’t deserve it, not after I—I don’t deserve—” she broke off, groaning as a tremble shook her body.

“Kira.”
Slowly, carefully, he wrapped his arms around her, drew her closer.

She wanted to resist. Wanted to pull away, wanted to be stronger, more capable.
Wanted to at least wait until she was in the privacy of her own room before she gave in to tears that had become all too frequent.
But he was warm and he smelled of leather and cardamom and maleness, and he just tucked her head against his shoulder and waited.

Another shudder spasmed her body, causing her to gasp for air.
Then another, and another, until the gasps became sobs, tearing out of her like rapid-fire torpedoes. She cried for Nico, for Bernie, for the unnamed innocents, for her friends. And she cried for herself, for fear that her goddess would turn away from her and leave her to Shadow.

Her hand knotted on his shoulder. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to balance this. They might think I’m too far gone to make it.”

His thumbs brushed at the tears running down her face. “As long as I am here, I’ll help you.”

She turned back to face him, reading the resolution in the darkness of his eyes: he meant it. He would do whatever it took to protect her, to protect others. Thank the Light he’d been sent her way!

She shocked herself by reaching up, pressing her lips to his. His body froze for a
moment,
no doubt he was as shocked as she was. Then his fingers slid into her braids, pulling her closer as he began to return her kiss with hungry, ferocious kisses that fired every synapse in her body.

With a whimper of need, she threw her arms around his neck, pressing closer to him. He felt incredible, like the perfect summer day, his kisses better than any wine.

“You’re glowing,” he whispered against her lips. “Should I be worried?”

Her eyes popped open. Sure enough, her exposed skin emanated a turquoise sheen. “Ah, I don’t know. This hasn’t happened before.”

“Reason enough to stop, then.” He kissed her once more,
then
stepped back. “Other than the fact that Nansee will return soon and we need to come up with a plan.”

“Plan, right.
The plan.”
She took a couple of steps away from him, and it became much easier to think. “Yes, we need to plan, you and
I
. And if the trickster can give some advice, I’d appreciate it.” She gave him a watery smile. “You wanted me to try this whole teamwork thing. I think I’m ready to give it a shot.”

Chapter 26

O
kay, I’m ready to talk about the dagger now.”

Both Khefar and Nansee looked up from their third bowls of harvest soup, matching chunks of bread in their hands. Nansee had returned within moments of their kiss, providing a much-needed distraction as they helped him prepare the meal. If the spider god noticed the new, different sort of tension between them, he didn’t ask about it, for which Kira was extremely grateful. She had a feeling Nansee’s amusement would be more than she could handle.

Kira’s body fairly hummed. Khefar had given her his promise, and the relief she’d felt had ramped up her appetite.
So had the kiss.
The meal had been delicious, the spider god an excellent cook. She’d matched them for two bowls, wolfing down chunks of chicken and root vegetables with relish.

“What dagger?” Nansee asked, perching on his stool. Somehow, along with groceries, he’d managed to procure four cane stools. Thanks to the spider god her worktable had been returned to its original purpose as a dining table. Next he’d probably want to remodel her kitchen.

Khefar focused on the remnants of his soup, using his bread to sop up the broth. “Apparently Kira asked Wynne Marlowe to forge an imitation of my blade, a blade she now plans to use to trick the Fallen.”

The demigod’s gaze swung back to her. “You asked the metalworker to forge another Dagger of Kheferatum?”

“Something like that but not exactly,” she said, noting the shock and worry on Nansee’s face. “I asked her to create a fake dagger to thwart
whomever
was coming for the blade. It’s taken just about three days, but she said it’s ready now.”

“Three days.” Khefar’s tone was even, but only a fool would think he was unruffled. “That means you asked her the day you and I met.”

He was back to angry or being offended, and she didn’t understand why. “Yes,” she replied. “I figured it was the easiest way to get Bernie’s killer while making sure the original dagger was safe.”

Khefar gathered their bowls and the now-empty soup
pot,
then rose. “Were you going to try to give me this impostor blade?”

She watched him take the dishes to the kitchen. “You have your real blade back, so that’s a moot point. But the Fallen wants the Dagger of Kheferatum, and he’s expecting me to bring it to him. How else do you propose I get close enough to kill him and still protect the true dagger? A fake dagger is the best option.”

“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?”