“Oh, shit.”
Immediately she swung to Doyle, held it out.
“It’s not mine.” He wondered if she felt the light beating around her. “It’s yours.”
“What am I supposed to—”
It all but leaped in her hand. Against her closed fist the rough stone hilt began to change, to smooth. Light streaked up the blade so she instinctively lifted it up to protect the others.
The sun struck it, searing. Before her stunned eyes the stone became clear polished glass.
“Did everybody see that?” Her heart thudded, her ears rang as she lowered the sword. And still its power raced up her arm, through her body. “It’s glass.”
“Like the palace.” Sawyer reached out, ran a finger over the flat of the blade. “You’ve got a magickal glass sword, Riley.”
“It sparkles,” Annika murmured. “And makes rainbows.”
“And holds power. Can you feel it?” Bran asked her.
“Oh, damn skippy. It’s like the stars. There’s a pulse in it. And it . . . it feels like mine, but let’s be practical. I’m no swordsman. I know the basics, but that’s it. I’d love to nail Nerezza with it, but I’m going to need a lot of training.”
Sasha gripped Riley’s shoulder. “She’s coming.”
Doyle ranged himself beside Riley. “Learn fast,” he told her, and drew his sword.
She came with a swarm, turned day to night.
Riley shifted the sword to her left hand—she’d need to get a lot closer for it to do any good—and pulled her gun.
They spilled out of the sky, slithered and shambled out of the trees, dark, twisted things with snapping fangs, swiping claws.
Bolts and beams and bullets struck against the dark. Shrieks tore the air as light exploded.
On the beast mangled by Doyle’s sword, Nerezza rode with them, pure madness now, her beauty gone, her hair a tangle, wild gray snakes, her eyes sunken, burning black.
Her lightning crashed with Bran’s, and the aftershocks knocked Riley off her feet. Something crawled burning over her boot. Even as she jerked back, Annika turned it to ash. Firing, firing, Riley flipped to her feet. Almost without thought, she slashed with the sword. The thing she cleaved screamed, vanished in a flare of light.
She felt the pump of power now, the thrill of it, and slashed, struck, jabbed, hacking her way through a swarm.
“I need to get closer. I can do it, I can take her. Can you get me up there, behind her?”
Sawyer shook his head. “Trying to bring her ride down, but these things block it. They keep coming.”
He slapped in another clip, and Riley saw blood dripping down his hand.
“We need cover. We need to—”
“Die here!” Nerezza screamed. “Die here, and I feed on your power. All that you are is mine. This world, and all die with you.”
She shot down flame. Annika deflected the first, but the second ball exploded in front of her, sent her flying back. Sawyer rushed to her as one of Sasha’s bolts killed the creature before its sharp wing scored Annika’s face.
“Into the circle. Lure her into the circle,” Sasha shouted. “I think— Bran!”
“Yes, yes. The power. I’ll draw her in.”
“Leave that to me. What’s she going to do?” Doyle demanded. “Kill me? Keep her off Riley.” He fought his way closer to the circle, managed to turn to meet Riley’s eye. “This isn’t Malmon. Aim for the heart. Drive her to me, push her to me. Some magick wouldn’t hurt.”
“You’ll have it.” Bran hurtled lightning at Nerezza’s flank. “Keep the pressure on her.”
“She’ll go for Doyle.” Teeth gritted, Riley fired. “Once she sees he’s alone.”
“But he’s not alone,” Sasha reminded her.
Bran leaped on one of the stones, hurled a vial of light. As it exploded, the Cerberus screamed in pain. The slash of its tail missed Bran by inches as he jumped clear. But the maneuver turned Nerezza toward Doyle in the heart of the stone circle.
“Immortal. Burn and bleed.”
He rolled away from the fire, jumped clear of that lashing tail. Closer, he thought. Just a little closer.
“Bitch,” he called back. “This time I’ll cut out your heart. Sword to sword. God to god!”
“You are no god.” When she swooped, he struck, but her quick turn had him slicing the side of her beast. The sword he’d carried for centuries snapped in two like a toy. “And that is no sword.”
Bran threw lightning to draw her off as Doyle pulled his knife. As he pivoted, the Cerberus clawed his back, struck him down.
The others rushed toward the circle. As the blood of an immortal, a guardian stained the glass, light burst like a bomb. It sent Riley sprawling, had her ears thundering, her breath lost. Through the haze she saw Bran struggling to his knees, heard Sawyer cursing. And saw Doyle unarmed, alone.
Overhead Nerezza laughed. “Can you grow your head back, immortal?”
She dived, a sword raised over her head.
Like Bran, Riley struggled to her knees, knew she’d never make it. “Doyle!”
When he turned his head, she saw the pain in his eyes, the regret. “Bullshit on that. Catch!”
She threw the sword, and all her faith.
He lifted his hand, closed his fist around the hilt. With a warrior’s cry, he sprang up, whirled away from Nerezza’s sword. He drove the Sword of Glass through her heart.