“Am I dead?” she wondered out loud. This was a strange sort of afterlife.
“No, Rowan. Not dead.”
Del whipped her head around in shock. Standing right beside her was one of the witches from her vision. The one who’d taken a knife to Rowan. She was tall, with blonde hair, dressed in rough woolen garments, her green aura almost invisible in the weak sunlight. Del realized she was similarly clothed, in skirts that tumbled all the way to the ground.
“Ailith.” The name came easily, even though they’d only met in dreams. This was one of the survivors of Rowan’s original coven — the coven she’d betrayed to Shade.
“I cursed you, Rowan, by blood and by fire. I marked you for all of time. You still bear the mark.” Ailith gestured at Del’s arm, the one where she’d carved the word never.
“No, you’re wrong. I did this to myself. Del, not Rowan.”
Ailith smiled gently. “Del, Rowan. They are one and the same. You may be the Heart Bearer, but you bore my brand first.”
Del looked down at her arm and blinked. Instead of the familiar scarred letters, there was a clear imprint of a knife’s blade seared into her arm. The runes that had been etched upon the metal had left angry welts on her skin. To her surprise, she found she could read them. They spelt the same word she’d been staring at since she was killed and turned by Shade. Never.
“Never rest, never fade, until you put an end to Shade,” Ailith chanted. “That’s the curse I set upon you. Over time, your descendants changed the words. I rather like the newer, longer version. Never give up, never give in… But the intent is still the same: you must kill the Raven. The promise must be kept.”
“Descendants?” Del worried at her bottom lip with her teeth, feeling stupid. “I don’t understand.”
Ailith touched her cheek softly. “You think this life is the only one you have had? No, Rowan, you have lived countless lives. In some, you even made it to old age before Shade found you and slit your throat.”
The witch’s meaning hit her all at once. Del sank to the grass, breathless. Rowan had left a trail throughout history. Bloodshed, yes, but also new blood, fresh blood.Children, and grandchildren, and great-great-who-knows-how-many-times great grandchildren, too. An entire legacy cursed or blessed to follow Rowan’s path.
When she looked up, Ailith was fading, and the green light was growing in strength once again. “Come back,” said the witch. “Come back to where it all began. Only then can you move forward.”
“To Maidensfall?” Del asked, reaching for Ailith even as she shimmered out of sight.
“To Maidensfall,” came the answer, ringing out sweetly until the sound swelled and became one great peal of bell song that shook Del loose from the ground until, once again, she was floating weightless in a pool of pale green light.
CHAPTER FORTY
Raze
It all happened in a heartbeat. Raze slammed into Jude, knocking him away from her grandparents. A shot rang out; Raze looked up to see Agatha clasping a gun in her cuffed hands, eyes wide in shock. To one side, Del was falling horribly fast, crashing into the ground in a graceless sprawl of limbs. The Heart Blade winked out, but although Del’s aura dimmed, it didn’t falter. She was alive.
Raze turned back to the demon just in time to get punched in the head. She yelped and snapped at the hand that had hit her, jaws locking shut around Jude’s wrist. He was trying to get his other hand free, to summon his soul blade that had shimmered out when Raze had tackled him. She lay the full weight of her body on his chest, pinning him down.
She was lighter than him, in this form. He finally managed to flip them over, crushing her against the hard, frozen soil. She released his arm, wriggling free. But now he had her by the scruff of her neck. Lightning fast, he drew his soul blade and set it at her throat. She froze beside the kneeling demon.
“Drop the gun,” Jude called out. “Drop it, and kick it away.”
There was a dull thud as Agatha dropped the weapon. Raze couldn’t see her grandmother from this angle, but she heard the clear scuff of leaves and debris as Agatha kicked the gun. She could smell the sour notes of illness and fear that came from her grandparents. The fear, however, was all Agatha’s. Oskar smelled… peaceful. He smelled like Del, the soft green scent of the Heart Blade wrapped around him like a cloud. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Del, lying still and broken. She itched to go to them all — Del, her grandparents — the sense of family pulling at her wolf self. Around her paws, the shadows seemed to pool thicker, blacker, swirling in a frenzy that matched her inner turmoil.
“Now shift back,” Jude told her.
She obliged. Her wolf form was no use to her right now, anyway. Perhaps she could bargain with him. She turned back into Raze-girl, rising to her feet with Jude following at her back.
“I gave you the sword you wanted! Let my grandparents go. Let me help Del.” She hesitated, and then added, “Please.”
“Well. Since you ask so nicely… No.” His grip around her waist tightened, pulling her closer against him. His soul blade pressed against the tender skin of her throat, and she felt the tickle-soft touch of blood welling up and trailing down to pool at her collarbone.
Jude spun her around. “You, witch boy, pick up the Heart Bearer. Take her to the ambulance.”
Raze looked up and met Ben’s even gaze. He must have been trying to sneak up on them from behind. His jaw tightened, and Raze saw his fingers twitch, green witch light spilling from the tips. She gave an infinitesimal shake of her head, willing him to understand. Play along for now, she urged him.
What now, little Thief? It was the mind-voice, back again to taunt her. That didn’t even make sense. The sword they had stolen from Winslow was nowhere near her right now. And she was sure the voice belonged to the sword. The Night Blade. Because however dead that piece of metal appeared to be, there was no denying the strange alien presence she had sensed and heard.
Jude was still talking to Ben, ordering him again to move Del. Raze tuned out the words, the sounds, and all the noise around her. Instead, she searched for the flicker of awareness she was convinced was the Blade. She cast out her mind, searching for it near the ambulance, where Jude must have dropped the sword. But it wasn’t there. She let the sense of it guide her. Closer, closer, and closer still. To her surprise, she found it right beside her. No, not beside: inside.
Help me, she asked it. The voice paused an instant, as though considering. Why? it replied. Raze laughed, low and desperate. She was hallucinating, talking to an imaginary voice while Del was unconscious and her grandparents were in danger. Because I don’t think you’re real, she told it. If you’re real, then prove it. Show me you exist.
Very well, it replied. But first, free yourself.
“Jude?” she said. “You want the Night Blade? The real one? Then release me.”
All conversation stopped; all eyes turned to her. “I knew you were playing me,” Jude said, a satisfied smirk on his face. He released his grip on her and moved the tip of his sword around to nudge the back of her neck. “Where is it?”
His voice was hungry, thick with greed. Raze lifted her hands to her sides in a show of surrender and turned, slowly and carefully so as not to startle the demon. As she turned, the sharp point of the soul blade travelled with her, trailing across her skin to settle in the dip of her throat with a warning prick. Her eyes met Jude’s in the predawn light, his one silver as moonshine, the other a cool gray. “Where?” he repeated, gaze roaming across her face as though he might be able to read the answers on her eyelashes or cheekbones.
“Here,” she replied. At the same time she thought, Now would be good. There was a flicker of amusement from the mind-voice. Then the black that still pooled at her feet rose like a wave, as the Blade wrapped her in shadows and the whole world faded to muted shades of night.
Raze backed off, moving away from Jude before he could react. The Night Blade’s shadow cloak muffled her steps, too, and she was as silent as though
t. Her whole body hummed with power. She thrilled at the touch of night in her veins, shivering in the Blade’s embrace.
Now she understood. The metal sword they’d taken from the vault was an empty vessel, a repository — nothing but a temporary home for the Night Blade. If the Heart Blade was a construct of light, then the Night Blade was its counterpart in darkness. Reverse sides of the same coin. It was at the same time abstract and real, and it was inside her, its presence beating in time to her own heartbeat.
Do you accept? the Night Blade asked her. She didn’t answer; didn’t need to. She bared her soul to it and welcomed it joyously. She wanted it like nothing else before, with a fierce sense of rightness, of belonging. She took in the shadows and became the night.
“Thief,” Jude spat out. He ran for Agatha, but Raze was faster. She got there a split-second before him, willing the Night Blade to form. The black sucked away from her body, spooling elegantly up her arm and transforming into a slender rapier in her grip. Whatever dark metal the rapier was made from was more than equal to a demon’s soul blade; she caught his sword easily as it came down on her.
She knew she couldn’t stand up to Jude when it came to sword fighting. But she didn’t have to. She wasn’t here to fight fair. She kicked out, catching him in the knee. He faltered just long enough for her to will the Night Blade into a new shape. Now she had a poleaxe, one of her favorite training weapons at the Chapterhouse. She caught Jude’s next blow on the shaft, then hooked his sword and pulled. It spun away in an arc, shimmering out. She went for the demon, but he backed away warily.
A gleam of pale green at her side signaled Del’s arrival. Heart Bearer and Night Bearer stood side-by-side, facing Jude. There was a flicker of red, and Alex was there, too, Redemption drawn and blazing angrily in the gray early-morning light that filtered through the last remains of the fog.
Jude took one look at them, and then he turned and ran. Raze took a step after him, but Alex set a hand on her arm. “No. Leave him. That’s not your quarrel now. A Blade Bearer should be above petty revenge.”
She let the coward run, his quick steps disappearing into the trees. She released the black poleaxe, and it faded into a wisp of shadow. Her skin drank the shadow, taking it all in until she once again felt the Night Blade beating within her. She took a long, shivering breath, exhaustion washing over her as the threat of danger receded.
Suddenly Del was hugging her, and Raze wrapped her arms around her tightly and hugged her back. “You’re okay, you’re alive,” Raze said. She touched Del’s head, where nothing was left of the bullet wound but a small scab and flakes of dried blood.
“The bullet only grazed me. And the Heart Blade took care of it. And you… you’re like me now.” Del placed her hand against Raze’s, and she felt the dual beat of Heart and Night in the touch of their palms.
Raze turned to Agatha. They didn’t hug, but there was pride in the old woman’s eyes. “You’re safe,” said Raze. “I’m so glad.” Beside Agatha, Oskar lifted his hand. Raze took it.
“Granddaughter.” He smiled. “I’m happy to meet you. I never thought I could have this, even for a short while. Jon’s daughter. We accept you. We take you in as our own.” Agatha made a small noise, but her husband gave her a sharp look. “Both of us. I don’t have much time left, but I would like a chance to know you, even if just a little.”
“I’d like that, too.” Raze gently set her grandfather’s hand back on the gurney as Ben approached, his face shining with awe.
“Raze, you claimed the Night Blade. You’re a Blade Bearer. And your aura’s changed, did you know that?”
Raze lifted her arm and examined it critically. Her blue werewolf’s aura had deepened to a midnight blue, almost black in shade. She turned to Alex.
“Am I still a werewolf?”
“Possibly,” he answered cautiously. “Del’s nature changed, but she had never sealed her demon side, and she had always rejected it and fought her demon blood. Your aura hasn’t changed that much. It’s just more, somehow. Why don’t you try and shift?”
Raze closed her eyes and reached for the wolf. She could feel it inside, happy, waiting for her. The Night’s presence also waited, just as joyous. They weren’t two different things, not really. They were two aspects of her new nature, and they weren’t at war with each other. She willed them to merge, and then she let her wolf form surge.
She opened her eyes and knew immediately that something was different. This wolf shape was bigger, more powerful. She could feel it in the coil of muscle and the way she held herself. She looked up at Alex questioningly.
He knelt beside her and touched a gentle hand to her flank, smiling. “Still a wolf, Raze. Just… more. Like I said.” He tilted Redemption to form a crude mirror, and in the distorted reflection she could see a vast black wolf. The only thing that hadn’t changed were her amber eyes.
“Go on,” urged Alex. “Try it out. Your new form. We’ll be here, we’ll wait for you.”
She looked at the gathered group. Ben and Del. Alex, still kneeling beside her. Her grandfather, Oskar, a look of contentment on his face. Agatha, curiosity and satisfaction warring with the impassive look she was trying to maintain. Raze gave a wolf’s panting, wide-mouthed smile, bright, and joyful. Then she shook herself and leaped.
In and out of the trees she ran, faster and faster, testing this new shape. It was so much stronger than her old wolf, and she thrilled in the feel of strong muscles gathering and releasing as she chased the last tendrils of fog. And then, just before the rising sun could paint the mist golden with the promise of blue skies, she drew upon the Night Blade, wrapped herself in shadow, and disappeared.
Keep in touch with Juliana Spink Mills by signing up for her Newsletter
Like Blade Hunt Chronicles on Facebook for news on future books, behind the scenes information, and give-aways!
Also By Woodbridge Press
Explorations: Through the Wormhole
Explorations: First Contact
Explorations: War
Explorations: Colony
Journeys
The Haunting of Lake Manor Hotel
Heart Blade
Night Blade: Blade Hunt Chronicles Book Two Page 27