She shook her head, clearing the thoughts and refocusing on the chaos that began across the street and continued well beyond her ability to project.
Jaekob said, "Something big is going on here, and I want to find out what."
What a coincidence, she had just been thinking the same thing. "You're right. It goes on for quite a ways, well past the docks themselves."
Across the street, an elf sprinted west along the sidewalk. She wasn't sure what he was running from until a were seemed to appear from nowhere on a balcony several stories overhead. It plummeted at least twenty feet and landed on the elf in spite of its efforts to escape. What happened next took only a couple seconds, and then the were bounded north back into the chaos. She could tell even from where she stood that there was no helping that poor elf.
Jaekob said, "Come on. We can't help the dead but we can try to keep the living."
She was already walking in the direction the werewolf had run. Jaekob easily caught up to her in just a couple steps. When she felt him beside her, she said, "I'm getting tired of all these attacks."
"You have the sword, so why don't you stop it?" Jaekob snarled.
Startled at his tone, Bells turned her head to stare at him, mouth open in a surprised O-shape. Her feet were moving her forward, but her thoughts were just spinning their tires—she was too surprised to know what to say. After a second, she just faced forward and sped up, more determined than ever to deal with the problem at hand. She knew other people asked the same question he had but she never expected it from him.
They got to the edge of the market district and the main plaza opened up before them. It was full of dead and wounded creatures strewn haphazardly across the pavement, while the uninjured living fought to stay that way. Dozens of Pures of all types had clustered together in the middle, pushed back by their attackers who seemed mostly to be werewolves.
It was clear the huddled Pures weren't going to win the fight. Then, across the plaza, she saw a troll, and then another. And another.
Bells ducked as a werewolf lunged at her, but she had barely spotted it in time and the way she held the sword made it impossible to attack it as it went overhead. Then there was a yelp, and as she followed the werewolf's path, she watched as it ended abruptly on the tip of Jaekob's spear. The spearhead glowed bright blue even through the blood that now coated it.
Another werewolf approached, but this time, she was ready for it. It leaped at her and she stepped out of the way, her blade tearing down the length of its entire body. Against an ordinary weapon, it would have begun healing even before it hit the pavement, but against the Sword of Fire, the werewolf seemed to ignite from the inside out, burning to ash as if the pavement was smoldering embers.
Jaekob shouted, "You better do something quick, before those trolls get into the fight. A lot more people are about to die."
She grunted in acknowledgment as she defended herself from another attacker. Behind her, a werewolf cried out in pain. Jaekob, protecting her back. She smiled grimly. This was not what she wanted to be doing, but at least she had him by her side.
He was right, though—time was running out for the Pures fighting for their lives in the middle of the plaza. She could hear other little battles going on all around, and her heightened senses caught whiffs of smoke when the wind shifted west, carried from the docks themselves.
Bells looked for more nearby threats, but she and Jaekob had already dealt with the werewolves nearest them. "Cover me," she said to Jaekob and then closed her eyes. She allowed the tendrils in the back of her mind to reach out, seeking the Sword of Fire, but she felt no response, just a faint echo in her mind of where the sword had just been. Was it fleeing from her?
She focused all her will on the sword. Whatever it was up to, she would make it talk. Seconds ticked by, an eternity in the middle of a battle, and still no response. She caught a vague sense that it was busy, but she didn't believe it. It was hard to believe a sword could lie.
Abruptly, the sword's strange intelligence was suddenly there. Instantly, she understood what had happened. It was gathering energy, readying itself and her for when she needed to use its mightiest, most famed ability. How had it known she would do that? She always tried to avoid using it if she could.
A sensation of amusement swept through her. Of course it was gathering power for that. Of course it would have to. It had senses, too, and the need was obvious. Or so it told her, though she still had a lingering doubt. It had never behaved in that way before.
When the sword was ready, growing almost too hot to hold as she gripped the hilt with her bare hand, Bells opened her eyes. She found Jaekob standing between her and the general chaos throughout the plaza.
"I'm ready," she said, and then strode toward the biggest cluster, the Pures in the plaza's center. She didn't need her enhanced senses to see the towering trolls heading toward the defenders.
When the sword told Bells she was close enough, she stopped and stood with her feet spread shoulder-width apart and gripped the sword with both hands, pointing its tip toward the fight. The power radiated out, but now, she could sense it. She felt where it flowed outward like a cloud, a purple fog she could only sense with her mind, not see. She willed the sword to gather that "fog" up and redirect it, forcing it to flow forward; it formed a cone as it streaked toward the battle.
Bells cried out, "End this fighting, I command you! Lay down your weapons and kneel before me."
The crowd and the attackers stopped mid-swing and turned to face her. As one, they went down on one knee. The plaza became utterly silent, which was kind of creepy. She still heard the faint sounds of other, smaller fights going on in the district all around her. She would soon put those to an end, too. It was a grim thing, taking away people's free will, but it was necessary.
The troll in the back sprung to his feet, grabbing a nearby elf by the neck and tossing him aside. The elf flew twenty feet, landing in the crowd, and the troll cackled.
Bells pointed her sword at the troll. What had happened? She pushed outward, directing the fog at the troll. It stopped mid-swing and turned to stare at her. She felt its mind go blank, awaiting orders, the sharp and angry thoughts turning off like a light switch.
A werewolf sprung from the cloud, a fae in its mouth, and ran away from her and Jaekob. Bells reached her open hand out toward it, then slowly formed a fist. The werewolf came to a halt, dropped the fae, and then sat on its haunches, motionless.
"Quit messing around,” Jaekob said. “You're costing lives. Pay attention to what you're doing." He sounded irritated.
Bells couldn't blame him, though, and he didn't sound as angry as she felt. Two lives gone, simply because she couldn't be bothered to pay enough attention to what she was doing.
Nearer to her, on her left side, an elf jumped to his feet, then leapt through the air with his sword in his hand. Bells watched helplessly as the elf came down, swinging his sword just before he landed. The body of the werewolf he attacked toppled over in one direction, its head rolling in another.
Jaekob stepped out from beside Bells and put himself between her and the crowd, his back against her. "Dammit, what are you doing? Stop letting them go free, Bells. You told me you couldn't undo it. Talk to me."
She shrunk back from his angry, accusing tone. "I can't, I swear. This isn't me letting them go." Of course, if their roles were reversed, she probably wouldn't have believed him either, and the thought made her angry, both at Jaekob and herself.
"You'd better figure out how to fix this, and soon. If you can't, then we'll have to run. We can come back with Guardians, then. Can you hold it together?"
She glared at the back of his head, but he was right. Again. She closed her eyes and focused on "seeing" the sword-fog. Right away, she could tell something was wrong. The haze, which normally gave her the impression of something almost solid, like cotton candy, now seemed like little more than a veil. As it thinned, the spots that had been the weakest had given away first, and her
grasp was still getting weaker. Soon, there would be many more people freed from the sword's grip. She’d always hated the idea of taking people's freedom of choice, but at the moment, there was nothing in the world she wanted more. She focused that want, her will, into the sword.
And then she felt it—something pushing back, something cold and alien. She had never felt that before. At first, its push-back was just a faint pressure at the edges of her mind. It occurred to her that whatever was the source of that pressure, it had allowed her sword-cloud, once she set it, to siphon away. And it had done it without her even knowing. Out of everything going on, that was the hardest part for her to believe.
She focused on the point where the push-back was strongest, then bashed away at it, using her willpower as a hammer.
"Bells, you okay? Bells?" Jaekob's voice came to her, even as focused as she was. She ignored him and kept her focus solidly on her mission. She had to push it back, she had to get control, or the plaza would erupt again.
An image of Jaekob shot through her mind, and she imagined him going down under a hail of blows, surrounded by trolls and weres. No! She wouldn't allow that to happen. She gritted her teeth and sweat formed on her forehead, but this, too, she ignored. The only thing in her universe was her willpower and the sword.
When she’d pushed the pressure back, she felt her sword-fog thicken, pulsing with her energy. With that resistance gone, she had never felt stronger. She felt rejuvenated. She wasn't sure how long she had been locked in her own mental battle, but it couldn't have been long.
When she opened her eyes, the enemy attackers and defenders remained the same as they had been when she closed her eyes, mostly kneeling. The only thing different was Jaekob. He wasn't where she last saw him, but sitting next to her, watching.
When he saw her eyes open, he smiled and said, "Welcome back. I was wondering if you'd ever come back, but I figured if anything happened to you while you were stuck in your own mind, then all these people would probably have been freed up to start fighting again, and I would've had to carry you out of here."
Bells smiled back, but she felt pretty ragged. "Well, something almost did go wrong. I don't really want to talk about it, though. I'm just glad we made it and kept control; otherwise, this could have been a real disaster."
He climbed to his feet, then clapped her shoulder with one hand. He pointed with his other hand at the market crowd. "You should be proud, I guess. You saved all these people, whatever the challenge was. I'm not surprised, though. Now, let's go save the rest of the docks district, shall we?"
Bells led her latest war band east, toward the docks themselves to start, but she wasn't nearly as enthusiastic as Jaekob. Something was out there that could fight her grip on the sword, or at least on the sword's power, and there was still the question of whether or not imprisoning all those people was good because it saved their lives, or utterly evil. Yes, she could compel anyone to speak the truth or to give blind obedience and complete loyalty, but the cost seemed far too high. How easy it would be to misuse that power. She almost wished she had never brought it back into the world.
Bells tried not to flinch as the automatic doors closed behind her, almost succeeding. Mikah's private post for his Guardians was just a private army HQ with another name, as far as she could tell. Naturally, his was the largest and best—the facility and the troops.
Jaekob grinned as they walked across the immaculate, freshly polished granite-paved entry, down the granite steps, and onto the sidewalk. She managed to keep her face completely straight and tried to pretend she didn't see him, but she could feel his eyes burning holes into her. Finally, she looked over at him and his grin widened.
"What?" she asked, rolling her eyes. "I hate them."
He slid his arm around her waist when they turned onto the sidewalk, heading back to the manor. "You do know they can't hurt you, right?"
"So you say. Someday, those doors are going to slam shut on someone. Doors that open and close without magic or manpower are just not natural."
Jaekob bumped her hip with his, but his arm around her waist kept her from being knocked over and safely on the sidewalk. Not that there were many cars on the roads anymore. "No, that's the point. They run on electricity. The humans did some interesting things."
It was Bells' turn to laugh. "You sound like one of those silly, human-worshiping pixies. How long do you think those solar panels will last? Another ten years, maybe. And the motors won't last that long since no one is maintaining them. Even if you do manage to fix burnt-out motors, you can only do it by taking other old motors from other old machines. And how much damage did the humans do to the planet to make those devices and panels? And here you say they did 'interesting' things. Silly people with silly toys they died to keep."
Jaekob stuck out his quivering bottom lip and wiped at one eye with the palm of his hand. "Why do you say such hurtful things? I'm nothing like a pixie. Besides, they don't worship humans, they're just easily excited. There was no technology here the last time they came through the Veil."
Bells rolled her eyes. "It's impossible to hurt your feelings."
"You can't hurt what you don't have."
"Whatever," she said, grinning. She knew better than that. "Anyway, thanks for thinking of a way to save those people. I'd much rather my slaves serve some greater good by protecting the city than by being quietly murdered."
Jaekob didn't reply. Was he upset at her? They had argued about what to do with the people controlled by the sword—he refused to call it enslavement—saying that keeping them alive would just be a waste of limited resources. He hadn't changed his mind until she asked why they couldn't just do the guard duty posts dragons didn't want to do. That got his attention, and he'd quickly come up with a solution, then sold it to his father.
Bells watched his expression closely. His lips were pursed thin, his eyebrows furrowed. Finally, when he stayed silent, she asked, "What's really bothering you?"
"Nothing we can do anything about." He looked away, and she felt his hand slide from her hip to the small of her back as he pulled away from her a little. Before, they had been touching hips as they walked.
Bells thought back over the events of the last couple hours, trying to think of anything she did that might have upset him, but other than joking around with him just now, she couldn't think of anything.
She took a deep breath and said, "I see. Well, I thought the same thing about the slaves, but together we found a way to deal with it. Why don't you try telling me and let me help if I can?"
He opened and closed his mouth several times, starting and stopping. He definitely looked troubled. She had been right—something was bothering him.
"Jaekob, I think you know how I feel about you, and I hope I know how you feel about me. Whatever is on your mind, you can talk to me about it."
He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, and when she turned to face him, he put his hands on her hips and looked down into her eyes. "Fine. It's been on my mind for a while, now, and I keep just telling myself it'll pass, it's nothing, everything will be fine. But I'm not so sure, now."
"OK. What's wrong, then?"
"I'm worried about you, Bells. Ever since you and that sword came together, you've been somehow... different."
"What?" She put her fists on her hips, looking up at him eye-to-eye. "The sword saved us all, and you of all people should know that. So, this is why you've been acting strange? I'm fine. You held the thing first, so you should know. It's not out to get us—it's just a tool, like any other. I try to use it for good, just like you would."
He shook his head surprisingly vigorously. "No. You're wrong. If I had the sword, I would hide it away somewhere no one could never get it again. The Sword Society had it right when they hid that thing, and I wish we could hide it again. Maybe you don't see it, but you have been different. I blame that thing."
She pulled away and stormed toward the manor, but Jaekob was back at her side in only a couple steps. She
said, "I suppose I do see a difference in me, too. For one, I have a huge power in the palm of my hand, but it's also a big responsibility. I have to keep constantly on guard not to rely on it too much. I don't like what it does to people, but I do like the fact that it saved the city. Okay, not the city, but the people in it."
He growled out loud, frustration etched on his face. "You mean, what it lets you do to people. And if it's so good, why does it seem to take over you so much? Whenever you aren't doing something else, you just sit quietly with your sword. Even when I'm sitting next to you, you're off in your own little world. I think it's doing something to you."
This was getting nowhere. It was incredible that he thought the sword was affecting her in a bad way somehow. Even worse, the sword had told her to expect this from him. She had doubted it, but it had been right. What else had it been right about?
As Bells and Jaekob got closer to the manor, foot traffic increased. There were enough people around that they ended up walking the rest of the way in uncomfortable silence. It wasn't until after they had gone through the checkpoints outside, into the house and its many protective barriers, and into Bells' room that she turned on him, spinning on her heels.
"Yes?" he asked, looking down into her eyes. "Do I have something on my face?"
"Look, why can't you just trust me? I know what I'm doing. I handled the sword just fine, didn't I?"
"The war hasn't ended. Just pointing that out."
"That's only because I'm not willing to march around the world with a conquering army, taking over everything there is to conquer. That should tell you to trust me. I can think of dragons who wouldn't hesitate to use it to their own advantage. It's why the sword picked me, I think."
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