Witch of the Midnight Blade

by Kris Austen Radcliffe

  Let Janus have his talisman. Let the Seraphim—all of them, Leif included—figure out how to live with themselves. I had to figure out how to live with myself.

  We all had to figure out how to live with ourselves.

  Or maybe die. Because right now, dying didn’t seem like such a bad idea.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Leif…

  Antonius rolled down the rubble pile. His suit’s camo distorted as he fell, but it did its job, and he landed unscathed in a crouch on the street below.

  The flash he got off before Vivicus kicked him in the gut had shown enough for Leif’s suit to triangulate Janus’s position. He appeared now in Leif’s retinal display as an outline rendered from all of his suit’s incoming data.

  Janus—Stab in one hand and his other swinging toward Del—slammed her against the fallen hoof.

  A white-hot, sensory-clearing heat rose up from Leif’s gut and filled his head with a wasp-like buzz. Janus hurt Del. And he had the damned sword.

  “Kill him,” Leif said. Janus might be the Fate Progenitor but he hurt Del.

  Leif’s retinal display responded with No target acquired. The slippery bastard and the haze were blocking all auto-targeting systems, so Leif would have to do this the old-fashioned way.

  Janus punched Del and her face bounced off the hoof.

  That white-hot heat flipped over to ice-cold rage. Leif fired.

  Hit appeared in his retinal display, along with a red flash in the air where Janus’s exposed upper torso should have been.

  When the suits were in full camo, they couldn’t provide extra armor coverage over vital organs. If the bullet hit and managed to pierce the suit even a few inches, a hit under his arm would do major damage.

  Or Leif could have grazed the bastard’s bicep and done zero damage. “Damn it!” he hissed. “Antonius!” he yelled as he pointed around the side of the rubble pile.

  Janus’s seers washed down the side of the rubble like a tsunami.

  Leif gagged. He stepped back and slapped his hand against his forehead. Never in his life had he been hit with a weaponized seer blast. He felt them, yes. Saw the strongest. But they never hurt.

  In the shadows under an outcrop of concrete, both Daniel and Nax groaned. They hid, thankfully, but that wave hit them hard, too.

  The unaffected Antonius darted over the edge of the pile toward the hidden side. Leif rubbed at his temple and ran up the side toward the hooves.

  Janus and Vivicus would be gone by the time he reached their last location, and the odds of them coming out where Antonius could respond were slim. They’d get away.

  Del sat on the ground in front of the hoof with her legs crumpled to the side. She rested her face against the blue steel and stared off into the haze.

  “Del!” he yelled.

  He should have let Nax kill Janus when they’d had the chance. He should have done it himself and been the one to take the fallout with him into Janus’s retaliatory hell. If he had, then Del wouldn’t be in danger.

  No matter what his father used to tell him, he sure could be an idiot.

  He hit the top of the pile, his rifle up, wishing his suit had repaired itself enough that he could drop into camo. But its flat gray color blended well with the broken concrete, so at least he was difficult to see in the night haze.

  Leif listened. No sliding rubble. No grunts. Only Antonius coming up the opposite side. How the hell did they slip away so quickly?

  “Del!” he said again as he extended his hand.

  She didn’t respond.

  “He has the sword,” Leif said.

  Antonius cycled down his camo enough so that Leif could see him, but not so much he’d be visible any farther out than the five feet between them. “Nothing,” he said.

  Janus had gotten the damned sword. The fact that Leif’s suit wasn’t connecting to any local systems, plus the rubble, meant they were in one of the war zones. He scanned the horizon. The glow to the north meant only one thing—they were in a city with a spike. Probably the city Janus wanted to visit with his sword.

  “We need to kill Janus,” he said to Antonius.

  His friend shrugged. “We won’t find them.”

  He was correct. No one found Janus if he didn’t wish to be found. He’d evaded detection for a thousand years pretending to be a Shifter named Marko. Now he had a suit.

  “We’re fucked,” Antonius said.

  Maybe, Leif thought. He lowered the rifle, then flicked it over his shoulder onto its magnetic holster. He extended his hand to Del again. “Hey,” he said.

  Antonius released enough of his hood to show his face. He stared at Del but didn’t say anything.

  Leif crouched down. “Are you bleeding? Can you move?”

  She blinked but didn’t answer.

  “We were in Maria Romanova’s prison, weren’t we?” Antonius nodded toward Del. “Cordelia Palatini-Sut briefed me on Maria Romanova. Seems the Shifter Progenitor here was able to manipulate new-space in ways she could not in our timeline,” he said. “That jump may have affected Del differently than us, or Nax or Adrestia. She is a normal.”

  New-space was not kind to normals. Not physically. Often not psychologically, either. “Can you move?” he asked Del again.

  She finally looked at him. “Please take me home,” she said.

  Antonius clicked his tongue.

  Del watched him over Leif’s shoulder for a flat, sad second. “Did you know they were using me as bait?” she asked.

  “Bait?” What was she talking about? Leif also looked to Antonius.

  “We have other things to worry about,” Antonius said.

  Del flailed. She whipped her hands around and pushed Leif away. “What are you so worried about, Del, sweetheart?” She mimicked Antonius’s tone. “Trapping Addy’s brothers was way more important than you. You’re overreacting! Just sit back and enjoy the ride, right?” She gave Antonius the finger. “Oh, you’re too emotional. Hysterical, even.” Then she looked right at Leif. “Calm down.”

  He sat back on his heels. How many times had he said that to her while he’d been tied up on the bus? How many times had he discounted her fear? All this wasn’t new to him, but it was to her. “Sorry.” He looked back at Antonius. “Cordelia used her as bait to trap Metus and Timor?” Without Del’s knowledge or consent, obviously.

  But that was how Fates worked. Lots of manipulation and hiding and reframing for “the greater good.”

  She chuckled. “Did you two learn to be assholes from Vick or is it a Legion thing?”

  “You gave him the sword,” Antonius said. “You handed it over, didn’t you?”

  Del wiped at her eyes. “Leave me alone.”

  Antonius stepped toward her. He leaned in and squared his shoulders. “You did all—”

  Del cringed.

  Leif slapped his hand onto Antonius’s chest. “Stop.” She wasn’t the problem here. She’d never been the problem. Not even in their timeline. It had always been Janus. Always. “You know how Fates work.”

  The funneling and the twisting and the pressure. One powerful triad could manipulate an entire town into worshiping them if they wanted to make it happen. Luckily for the world, most of the narcissistic triads were too lazy to put in the work needed.

  But Janus was a singular Fate with all three seers, and powerful enough that “work” was as easy as walking for him. Janus could do whatever he pleased. He always had and he always would.

  Antonius turned away.

  “You’re perfect for Daniel,” Del said to Antonius. “Two self-absorbed boys galloping over everyone else because only you two know what’s right, huh?”

  Leif pressed his fingers against his forehead. She wasn’t wrong. Daniel, his brothers, and Antonius were never sociopathic, though. If they had been malignant, they never would have been Legion.

  She pointed at Antonius. “You were an asshole back in the day, weren’t you?” She flailed again, this time mimicking Antonius’s gestures. �
�I demand only the best because Oh my God I have the hurts! See my pain? Look at my pain! I’m the only one that matters. Never mind that my husband is trapped in his murderer’s body.” She threw her arms into the air. “Never mind that the woman my trapped husband threw under the bus had already been thrown under a different bus by a damned spaceship!” She screamed the last to words.

  Leif tossed Antonius a Well? Look.

  Antonius closed his hood.

  “That’s right, Otter Boy. Ignore the obvious.” Del gave him the finger with both hands this time.

  “Otter Boy?” Leif asked. He hadn’t seen an actual otter in decades.

  Del scrambled to her feet. “He looks like a handsome otter.”

  Antonius turned away again.

  “And you.” Del poked a finger at Leif. “All this and you’re concerned about otters?”

  He looked back at Antonius. What the hell was he supposed to say? She had a point. Two points, really. Antonius really did have a bit of otter to him. “Why did you give Janus the sword?” he asked instead.

  All the work he and Nax had done to keep it away from Janus and she’d just handed it over. He would have been as angry as Antonius if he hadn’t learned a long time ago that often in situations like this anger is the real enemy. So don’t be angry. Be shocked. Be upset and sad. But you damned well needed to keep your head together or you might lose what advantage you had left.

  Or you might get your comrades killed.

  Del rubbed her jaw. “Because if I didn’t, he would have killed me and taken it. He tried to kill me anyway, if you didn’t notice.”

  That wasn’t the only reason. It couldn’t be.

  She looked away. “The dragons destroyed the world,” she said. “They destroyed everything.” She sniffled and wiped away more tears. “I’m sick of being used.”

  Antonius shook his head and paced back and forth but thankfully didn’t say anything.

  “I had no control over Stab! None!” Del said. “At least Janus understands what it is and how to use it.”

  Leif reached for her elbow. “Del—”

  She twisted away. “He’s going to do to them what they did to us. He’s going to use the Dragonslayer for a first strike. He’s going to start the war and this time he damned well better finish it.” She wrapped her arms around her chest. “He’s going to kill them all.”

  This wasn’t Del. It wasn’t even the Del of his timeline. No Del in any timeline would set genocide in motion.

  “Wait,” Leif said. “He’s going to start the war?”

  She ignored him. “Where’s Nax? Maybe Nax will help me find a way to get home.”

  He reached for her again. “Del…”

  She scrambled toward the slope. “Ask Daniel.”

  “Wait. Wait!” Leif motioned for Antonius to go down ahead of her. “Let one of us go first.”

  She stopped. “Why? What do either of you care if I fall? I’m no longer valuable. No toys here!” She held up her hands.

  The ring was gone, too. “You didn’t give him the Tsar’s ring, did you?” His words came out much too accusatory. He extended his hands again. “I’m sorry. I—”

  “Fuck. You. Legion. Boy.” Del scrambled down the rubble pile.

  Leif started the descent behind her. The pile shifted and she didn’t know where Daniel and Nax hid. “Del…” he said yet again. “Wait.”

  She looked up at him. Every ounce of determination he’d seen before, every bit of her moxie and her willingness to run into a fire to save kittens, had vanished. Fatigue looked up at him through the haze. Fatigue and resignation.

  “Leif,” Antonius said behind him.

  He looked over his shoulder.

  “Are you catching any communication systems?” Antonius pointed out at the haze. “We need to contact Praesagio.”

  When he looked back, she’d slid down into the haze. “Check the full range of frequencies.” His retinal display flipped back to Diagnostics and System Resources. “My suit is in repair mode.”

  Antonius nodded.

  “I see you got my message,” Leif said.

  Antonius chuckled. “Yeah, boss.”

  They were Legion again. Maybe that would get Antonius’s mind off his Daniel problem. Leif looked down the slope again. Maybe it would help them both move away from the backstabbing. They needed to, for Del’s sake.

  Antonius nodded. “Every one of the Praesagio Guard types heard you.” He tapped the side of his hood. “There should be Navy out there.”

  Leif motioned for him to follow and they slid back down the pile. “Nothing?”

  “Nothing.” Antonius sniffed. “I wonder what Lara and Manu will do.”

  No mention of Del’s feelings. No mention of Janus having the sword, either. Which made Leif wonder about which version of the future Antonius wanted. His friend might not realize his choice of words showed a preference.

  Leif let it go. At least for the moment.

  Lara and Manu were the other two Seraphim that had gone in with Antonius. “They’re scientists first.”

  Antonius dropped to the roadbed at the bottom of the pile. “If they have to choose, they’ll choose you.”

  Their choice didn’t matter. “They’re Mundus Imperium. They work for this Emperor now.” Their entire purpose was to transport and unpack the twenty-seven years of technological gains from his world, and their allegiance was to whatever human systems they found that could help them do their jobs.

  Antonius nodded in agreement. “Penny?” he asked.

  “Janus killed her.” Leif hadn’t actually checked. The odds of her surviving three close-range shots to the head were low, though.

  Antonius listened for Daniel and Nax. “We came as seven. Now we’re two Legion, two Imperium, and one asshole we should have left at home.”

  “Yeah.” Maybe they all should have stayed home except Lara and Manu.

  Nax walked out from under the concrete ledge to meet Del, who had stopped at the base of the rubble pile. He held out his hand to steady Addy. “Maria Romanova has been able to influence the real world since the big Incursion opened,” he said. “Del says she took the ring.”

  At least Janus didn’t have it.

  “We’re hoping she got out and is safe.”

  Addy did not walk like Addy, nor did she stand as if she fully understood where her center of gravity was located. She was also trying not to shiver even though she wore an older, violet Guard jacket.

  She held her broken glasses in her hand, then sighed and tossed them to the side. “I am Daniel Drake,” she said. “I took full control of this body shortly before The Incursion opened.”

  Antonius did another of his sniffs.

  Daniel-Addy sighed, and Addy’s familiar present-seer swept toward Antonius. “Livia Sisto brought you home to me. You have a scar right here.” She tapped her right collarbone. “Where you took an arrow.”

  Antonius’s face hardened. “Do not try to trick me, Adrestia.”

  She stared right at Leif with her dead eyes. “Call Pavlovich! Call Trajan.” She dug her phone out of her pocket. “I have Hadrian’s direct number right here.”

  Antonius looked away.

  “Perhaps you should call your father, Leif Ladonson,” Nax said.

  “I have his number.” Addy-Daniel thrust the phone at them. “Your aunt’s number is in there. Derek’s, too. Or did you not have Derek Nicholson where you came from?”

  Leif shook his head. “Who?”

  The Addy Leif knew was never this good of an actor. She lowered her hand and… Daniel’s musical seer rolled out from her in beautiful waves of resonant future-seeing.

  Daniel Drake, the man Leif considered an uncle, had to be in there with Adrestia. He had to be. He stood in front of Leif in another body, but the person in control had to be the future-seer of the Draki Prime triad.

  “How—” Leif started to ask, but she—he—held up his hand.

  “We’re in Tokyo?” Daniel said.

 
; “That’s what Janus said.”

  Del stepped toward Nax, who looked around as if surprised.

  She touched his arm. All of Nax’s attention pulled to Del and he placed the back of his hand against her cheek.

  “You’re cold,” he said, and pulled her closer.

  The Lesser Emperor was putting his extra body heat to use warming the women, even if Daniel was in charge of that body.

  Del had gone to Nax, not Leif. I have an onboard heater, he thought.

  Otters, heaters. The little thoughts were so dumb. But he was an old man and he knew exactly what the dumb thoughts of youth meant.

  He pushed them completely, utterly out of his mind. None of that. Not now. Not ever, probably.

  Daniel’s present-seer swept around them again. He was using it, like Addy always had, in place of his eyes. But this time, the sweep was followed by another musical wave of Daniel’s future-seer.

  He sniffed and shook his head but didn’t share.

  His seer flicked out again—except it didn’t. Leif heard a seer, one that sounded just like Daniel’s, but the resonance was off, as if it came from another direction.

  “Tokyo,” Antonius said. His suit flickered. A map appeared on his chest. “This is my suit’s best guess at our location.”

  They were in the remains of downtown Tokyo—and right where Janus wanted them. Leif closed his eyes and listened. “Moving via Maria’s prison must not set up the same feedback on the Dragonslayer as a ground incursion,” he said.

  Nax frowned.

  Antonius waved his hand. “Our special sky friend doesn’t like ground incursions near spikes,” he said. “The engineers think that in whatever timeline she came from, they used ground incursions as a targeting system.”

  Nax’s frown deepened. “Did you at least turn it off?”

  “Her AI’s broken,” Antonius said. “No one’s turning anything on and off on the Dragonslayer.”

  Del touched Nax’s hand again. “I need to go home,” she said.

  Her entire body slumped. Nax’s confusion showed on his face and in how his stance shifted for a fight. His eyes narrowed and he looked up at Leif.