Shadow Blade (35 page)

“Speak, child of
Mine
. What is it that you wish of
Me
?”

Khefar spoke.
“Nutjert en Ankh, sat Nut, sat Geb, merit
Auser .
 . . ”
The words pressed against her, then into her, translating through her soul. “
Goddess of Life, daughter of Nut, daughter of Geb, Beloved of Osiris, hear
one unworthy of your blessing. If it be
Your
will to grant the wish of one such as I, I would wish that Kira, faithful servant of the Light, handmaid of Ma’at, be returned to her life.”

Shock locked her muscles.
No, Khefar. Don’t ask this. Not this. Ask for yourself.

“What of the vow you made,
My
child? If she is sent back, your vow to fail-safe still holds. You will remain, denied entry to the Field of Reeds until she leaves the world. Is that your choice,
My
son?”

Move,
she begged her frozen muscles.
He can’t give that for me. I can’t ask him to sacrifice his afterlife for mine!

“I follow
Your
will in all things, Goddess of Life,” he said then. “I will hold to my vows.”

“It is not just
My
will that determines this day. What say you, Mistress of Justice?”

Kira shuddered as another presence, a familiar one, joined Isis. “I will speak for the new soul, for she is
My
child, My fierce and zealous daughter who has served Justice faithfully. Speak now, beloved one, the truth of your heart.”

Gratitude trembled through her pores, the gentle presence bringing words to the surface.
“Ma’at the Great, Goddess of Justice, Mistress of the Sentences, She of Order and Rule.
May I shine each day in
Your
presence, doing Your will in all things. I would not ask another to sacrifice for me. He has served faithfully. If it is his time to rest, please allow him to join his family in paradise. I would not deny him his reward, not for my sake. I live and die by
Your
will.”

Silence, during which she could feel Khefar’s soul vibrate in outraged
reaction
:
You have done so much for me, Khefar, so much in such a short time. I’m grateful I met you, and you have touched me in more ways than you know. Have your peace now. I’ll be content with that.

Ma’at’s presence washed over her. “My will is this: you will return to the living land to be
My
instrument in this world. You will serve
Me
as you have always done, secure in My blessing as you stand against Chaos.”

She was more than
goddess,
She was a Universal Truth, Mother of Order and Function, the foundation of everything. “You honor me; I will abide by
Your
will.”

“As Justice has spoken, so shall I,” Isis said then, her voice nowhere and everywhere. “I am Isis.
Mother of All.
Do I not have power over life and death?”

Khefar stirred. “Yes, Great Mother.”

“She is Ma’at’s child, but you are
Mine
. You are needed in this world a while longer, Khefar, son of Jeru, son of Natek.”

“You honor me, Lady of the Words of Power.”

“Will you return?”

“I will, Great Goddess.”

“As
We
speak, so let it be done.”

The light around Kira intensified. “You may stand now, child.”

At the gentle urging of the goddess, Kira’s body unfolded, pushing to her feet. The Hall of Thrones had vanished, as did Khefar, Isis, and the other gods. The embodiment of Truth and Order stood in her shining glory, beautiful and pure and golden. By contrast, Kira felt dirty in body and mind and soul.

Ma’at smiled and Kira’s heart leaped in response, giddy. “You are
My
daughter, the Hand of Justice.”

She removed the white plume feather from her headdress. It balanced in the palm of her hand, gleaming blue-white and golden with power. Then it began to dance, as if caught on a current of air, lifting away from the goddess and toward Kira.

She instinctively raised her hands. The feather settled against her cupped palms, humming and nearly insubstantial. Light and heat emanated from it, brighter and warmer until it consumed her vision and seared her soul.

The goddess spoke one final time. “Go forth into the day,
My
child. Your friends
await
.”

The golden light faded.

Kira opened her eyes to find Wynne’s worried face leaning over her. “Oh, thank God!”

“Goddess.”
Kira trembled. “I saw
Her
.
Them.
I saw it all. It was so
beautiful .
 . . ”

“I’m sure it was beautiful for you, but it was scary as hell for us. Think you can space out these superhero action sequences a little more?”

“I’ll work on it.” She looked around the room. An espresso-colored lowboy sat against the far wall, a plum-colored orchid sitting atop it. It was the minimalist Zen-like style she preferred, but it wasn’t her house or her safe room at Wynne’s. It didn’t feel like a hotel room and she didn’t think her friends would take her to a bed and breakfast to recuperate. “Where are we? Where’s Khefar?”

Wynne bit her lip. “Well, see, that’s the thing—”

“I’ll answer her.”

Kira blinked in surprise.
“Balm?
You’re here?”

The head of Gilead took the chair Wynne vacated. She wore a beige cowl-necked sweater, tweed slacks, and dark brown boots, a far cry from her usual turn-of-the-century garb. “This is my safe house in Atlanta. You didn’t really expect me to go home, did you? Abandon my daughter when she faces the greatest challenge of her life?”

“No, I suppose not.” She sat up, appreciating the soft cotton gown and bed sheets, the simple impression of blue sky and warm sun she felt from them. She had no idea Balm had a house in Atlanta, but she found it didn’t bother her. At that moment, little could. “I feel like I should apologize to you.”

“For what?
For doing your job and sending one of the Fallen back to Shadow?
No. If, however, you mean dying and scaring me half to death, then yes—you damn well need to apologize.”

Kira gazed at the woman who’d shaped her life, noting the strain about the eternal woman’s eyes and lips. “I’m sorry, Mother. I didn’t mean to
cause
you worry.”

“You never do, and yet I worry.” Balm reached out a gloved hand toward Kira, then drew it back. “You’ve never had to face anything like this before.”

“No. This was the worst. It was almost too much, what the Fallen did. He got into my head, dangled the promise of information about my past, my family. He promised to tell me who I am and why I am.”

Balm sighed. “You didn’t believe him, did you?”

“Of course not.
You should know me better than that.” She looked away. “He’s the reason Nico is dead. He supplied Nico with the serum that blocked my powers. He used the special team to dart me with it, to trap me.”

“Oh, Kira.”
In a surprising move, Balm slid onto the bed beside her. “I’m sorry you had to endure that, daughter. I know it doesn’t ease the pain, but perhaps you can take some comfort in knowing that this Fallen can no longer hurt you and yours.”

It was cold comfort, but it was all she had. “I’ll take what I can get at this point. And we did win one for the Light.”

“That’s the spirit.” Balm gave her a smile as soothing as her name. “I’ve worried every day since you left Santa Costa, knowing that the day would come when I’d have to let you go, let you walk your path without me.”

“What are you saying?”

“There are places even I cannot go, paths I cannot take. You, my dearest daughter, walked with the gods, the Guardians of Light, and have now been taken into direct service.” Balm adjusted her sleeves. “You’ve always chafed under my authority, and now you’ll answer to a higher one.”

“So it wasn’t a dream?”

“No. You were claimed by Ma’at Herself.”

Kira leaned back against the pillows, trying to absorb Balm’s news. “
Are .
 . . are you saying that I’m no longer a Shadowchaser?”

“You will always be a Shadowchaser,” the head of Gilead retorted. The harshness eased from her voice and features as she returned to the chair. “You remain a weapon of Light to push back Shadow. You’re just more now. Can you not sense it?”

Kira closed her eyes, trying to find confirmation of what Balm had told her. She had no idea how long she’d been unconscious, how many days had passed since she’d fallen out of Demoz’s office window with a poisoned dagger in her shoulder. Lying prostrate in the Hall of Gods, feeling Ma’at’s blessing and Isis’s grace? It felt as if it had just happened.

An image took shape in her mind’s eye, the glowing form of Ma’at’s feather. Its light warmed her, spreading through her like heated brandy, making her feel almost giddy. Yet she felt something slide along the edge of her senses, a hint of Shadow just beyond the brilliance of Ma’at’s truth.

She was still tainted. Her burdens hadn’t disappeared just because she’d been called by her goddess—not that she’d expected them to. Now she knew why the Mother Goddess had told Khefar that he’d have to come back. He might still have to keep his promise to use the Dagger of Kheferatum to unmake her. And surely he still had one more life to save?

Her eyes popped open. “What about Khefar?
Uh, the man who fought the Fallen with me?”

“Ah yes, the immortal Nubian.” Balm arched an eyebrow. “You’ve been holding out on me, daughter.”

Kira dipped her head. “I know. It was just—it got real complicated real fast.”

Balm smiled. “Men can do that.”

Heat crept up Kira’s cheeks, but she studiously ignored it. “Is everyone else okay? Was Sanchez able to retrieve the first Special Response Team? We didn’t lose anyone else, did we?”

Balm handed her a pair of thin gloves. “Why don’t you get out of bed and come see for yourself?”

Kira pulled on the gloves, then levered up off the bed. “Where is this place?” she asked, changing into the dark gray trousers and lighter gray sweater waiting for her at the foot of the platform bed. She wondered how Balm had known that she liked Zen decor for her sleeping quarters. Her rooms on Santa Costa had been austere out of necessity, not choice.

“
Ansley
Park
, not far from the Atlanta Botanical Gardens.”

She followed Balm out into the hall. “You’re so old-school, Balm. I’m surprised you’re not in one of the mansions near the governor’s place.”

“Too much space in those enormous houses.
However, at the moment, I could use a little more space. My formal dining room is crowded right now.”

“Crowded? What do you
mean .
 . .”

The dining room was indeed filled with people.
Zoo and Wynne, Khefar and Nansee, Sanchez, even the members of Inviolate.
They sat at an ornate Queen Anne cherrywood table overloaded with food, laughing as Nansee spun one of his stories.

Her gaze rested on Khefar. He looked as if he’d come through the ordeal completely unscathed. She remembered what he’d done for her, the sacrifice he’d been willing to make on her behalf, and almost choked on the gratitude that welled up in response.

He stood up as soon as he saw her. The others fell silent as he crossed the dining room to Kira and Balm.

“Khefar.”

He inclined his head.
“Balm.”

“As always, we could use you in Gilead.”

“As always, I must refuse.
Especially now.”

Kira looked from one to the other. “How far back do you guys know each other?”

“Our paths have crossed a few times over the years,” Balm explained, which really didn’t explain much of anything. “I’m sure you two want to talk for a moment. It’s warm enough that the verandah should be comfortable for a while. Don’t stay out too long. This feasting is in your honor, after all.” She joined the others in the dining room, smiling as Nansee gallantly held her chair.

Khefar led Kira through the sitting room and out the front door. The house really did have a verandah and not a porch, running the length of the front of the house before bending along the right side. A swing hung from one of the beams to the left of the front door.

“How long has it been?”

“Three days this time around,” he answered. “Wynne said that someone tried to re-engage the DMZ’s shields after I went in, but she and Zoo were able to keep them down. Sanchez’s team exchanged some light gunfire with some of Enig’s men, which provided enough of a diversion for the band to get all the staff members out of the club. Sanchez took all the shards of the crystal as you suggested and they’re now safely locked away. Demoz is fine, repairs are ongoing, and he expects the club to reopen this weekend.”

Kira nodded. She wanted to ask him about the sacrifice he’d made. Wanted to ask why he’d done it. Was he still immortal? Didn’t he still have another life to save?

He sat beside her on the swing. “I heard what the Fallen said about your former handler. I’m sorry.”