“Difethwr!” Pryce’s voice made me look up. “Behind us!” Edern charged, his sword ready to run the Hellion through. Flames gushed from Difethwr’s eyes, stopping Edern and wrapping him in a fiery cocoon. Yellow, stinking smoke rolled across the arena. Demonsbane clattered to the ground. The Keeper did not burn, but his agonized screams sliced the air like jagged shards of glass.
I struggled against myself, trying to lift Darkblaze.
Flames pouring from its eyes, Difethwr raised its head, hoisting Edern into the air. The Keeper’s clothing went from red to black as magic gushed from his body. The Hellion turned north, toward Uffern. Edern moved that way, too. Difethwr reeled in its eye-flames, bringing the dangling Keeper close enough to hug.
As my right arm tried to hold me in place, I hobbled toward them.
Edern screamed again. With a fiery blast, Difethwr shot the flames across the arena and past the far wall, over Uffern. Wrapped in fire, Edern flew with them.
The stream of fire held him there, in thin air, thousands of feet above the ground.
Difethwr cut off the flames, and Edern fell into Uffern. His screams echoed, then grew thin. After a moment, I couldn’t hear him at all.
Fury exploded inside me. A good man had died as I stood by helplessly.
Difethwr turned as though I’d called its name. Flames flickered behind its eyes.
Darkblaze’s own flames licked at the dust, the toes of my boots. I wrestled with myself, trying to raise the sword, but my right arm was like iron.
The Hellion couldn’t seem to decide what to make of me. Was I its enemy—or was I part of it?
Pryce seized on Difethwr’s indecision to grab control. He picked up Edern’s dropped sword and walked over to me. The Destroyer followed him.
I watched them come, the wall at my back. Maybe, if they got close enough, I could swing my whole torso around and catch the Destroyer in the calf. With Darkblaze, it might be enough.
Pryce stopped just beyond my range. His sneer was uglier than ever.
“You’ve lost. With Difethwr as my shadow demon, nothing can stop me.”
“You think the Destroyer is your shadow demon? Looks more to me like you’re the Hellion’s puppet.”
Come closer, damn you. Just two steps. We’ll see what happens to that sneer when Darkblaze bites your flesh.
Pryce stayed put. “Insults from a dead woman don’t have much sting, I must say. Right now, Difethwr is confused. But as it comes back to itself, it will remember our previous alliance. It will remember the prophecies. Together, the Destroyer and I will unite the three realms—Uffern, the Darklands, and the Ordinary—under my rule.” He studied me, then laughed. “For a while, I worried that perhaps you were the Cerddorion champion some prophecies foretell. But look at you. You can’t fight. You can’t even hold a sword.” He spat at me, as Arawn had spat at him in Tywyll. The gob hit Darkblaze and sizzled. “I don’t believe there is a Cerddorion champion. But, to be sure, I’ll annihilate your kind. First you, then that horrible old bitch you call your aunt. After Mab, your niece Maria. And that’s just the start. I won’t rest until I’ve wiped every last drop of Cerddorion blood out of existence.”
He laughed again. Never had I hated anyone more.
Pryce raised Demonsbane to strike me.
Behind him, the Destroyer roared and spun around. The Hellion’s movement lifted Pryce from his feet, and he dropped the sword in surprise.
My right hand let go of my wrist as the demon-marked arm fell to my side. With a shout of triumph, I raised Darkblaze. Dusky flames ran along its blade. Eagerly, I ran at Pryce, angling the sword upward, aiming to drive its blade through his heart.
The point touched his chest. Finally. Finally I’d kill the goddamn son of a bitch. With all my strength, I thrust.
And Darkblaze shattered.
31
DARKBLAZE’S FLAMES SPUTTERED AND EXTINGUISHED AS THE shards of its blade fell to the ground. I stared at the hilt in my hand. Darkblaze will not strike an angry blow. That’s what Arawn had said. I’d given my connection with Difethwr too much power over me. I’d hated Pryce too strongly. There was too much of the Destroyer in me when I attacked.
The sword had destroyed itself rather than be used that way.
I let the hilt fall and drew a bronze-bladed knife.
The Destroyer bellowed and spun, whipping Pryce around as it moved. To my surprise, the Hellion’s back was a mass of wounds. Black demon blood poured from numerous gashes, whose edges bubbled and melted, a sure sign they’d been inflicted by a bronze weapon.
Difethwr roared and turned again. That’s when I saw Kane.
He darted out from a solid rock wall and hacked into Difethwr’s back with his battle ax. When the demon spun around to smash its attacker, Kane faded back into the rock.
The ramp’s exit—it was cloaked, so Difethwr couldn’t see it. Kane was timing his strikes—rushing out from camouflage when the Hellion’s back was turned, then ducking back into the doorway—to make the attacker seem invisible.
I snatched up Demonsbane. Edern’s sword had a good, solid bronze blade, like the sword of Saint Michael, the sword I’d used to kill the Destroyer before. I whispered the invocation, then held my breath.
No flames appeared.
Too much to hope for. Still, the Destroyer would feel the bite of Demonsbane’s bronze, as the wounds on its back showed.
Difethwr blasted its eye-flames toward the rock wall. Shit. The flames would go right through the hidden door. I stabbed Demonsbane into the Hellion’s thigh, then ducked and ran around behind it as it turned.
“Over there!” Pryce shouted, pointing. With a blast of flame, Difethwr turned, but I dropped and rolled out of the way.
Kane emerged again and, aiming low, smashed his ax into the Destroyer’s Achilles tendon. He must have severed it, because suddenly that leg wouldn’t support the demon’s weight. I struck a blow from the other side, and the Destroyer staggered, nearly falling.
Difethwr pulled in its eye-flames and hobbled toward Uffern, dragging its injured leg. It was running from us. Demons can regenerate, but they need to be in the demon plane to do it. From here, though, the demon plane was several thousand feet straight down.
Pryce stumbled beside the Hellion, bound to it, pulled along by its greater strength and will.
At the edge of the arena, they stopped. Difethwr looked over the wall. As the Hellion leaned forward, so did Pryce. He screamed at the sheer drop. Difethwr sat on the wall and swung its injured leg over the edge. Was that far enough into the demon plane for it to regenerate?
I wasn’t going to wait to find out. With Demonsbane raised, I ran across the arena.
Pryce shouted a warning, and Difethwr turned its head. Flames flickered behind its eyes, then dimmed. The Hellion was weakening.
Kane ran beside me, his ax at the ready. We could do this, even without Darkblaze. Together, we could finish off the Destroyer.
We never got the chance. Difethwr pitched itself over the wall. Its bellows joined with Pryce’s screams in an unholy duet.
Smoke hung over the spot where they’d fallen.
I ran to the wall and looked down. Below, Pryce and the Hellion tumbled through the air, limbs flailing. Their bodies grew smaller. Then the screaming stopped, like someone had hit a switch.
They disappeared. Pryce and the Destroyer simply vanished in midair.
Kane looked at me. Black demon blood smeared his cheek. “What happened?”
“I don’t know.” I gripped my sword, half-expecting the Destroyer to reappear. My right arm felt different. The burn of my demon mark had faded to an itch, and when I tried, I could move my arm again. I flexed my fingers and transferred Demonsbane to my right hand.
Whatever had happened to them, Pryce and the Destroyer were gone. Vanished into Uffern.
I slid Edern’s sword into Darkblaze’s sheath and turned to Kane. He stared at me with an expression I couldn’t read.
“Why…” His voice died. He swallowed and tried again. “Why did Arawn’s sword break?”
How was I supposed to answer? Because I let my anger overwhelm me? Because I hated Pryce more than I cared about my promise to Arawn? Because it felt good to give in to rage, to kill what I despised, whatever the consequences?
I chose the answer that rolled all those reasons into one: “Because there’s too much of the Destroyer in me, Kane.”
I walked away, going over to gather up what was left of Darkblaze. I cut a square from my tunic and lay the fragments on it. Tears blurred my vision, and I wiped them away impatiently. I didn’t want to miss any pieces. Broken as it was, I would return Arawn’s sword to him. Maybe his wizards could fix it.
Maybe my fairy godmother would show up with a magic wand and a happily ever after.
Kane helped me search for shards. He didn’t speak. I knew what he was thinking, though. He was reconsidering that whole “I love you, whatever happens” thing. What else could it be? How could he love someone who, deep in her soul, would always be driven by the urge to destroy?
The norms thought monsters filled the streets and alleyways of Deadtown. But nothing there was more monstrous than me.
When we’d gathered up all the fragments we could find, I knotted the corners of the cloth, securing them inside.
Kane went to the stone wall and leaned against it, looking out over the Darklands. I joined him. A haze of smoke still hung over parts of the landscape, but it was dispersing. The Darklands would recover. Magic would help rebuild what was lost. I wished there was some magic that could fix what was wrong inside me. Edern had mistaken me for a demi-demon. Maybe he was more right than he’d known.
“There’s the white falcon,” Kane said, picking up the spyglass. The bird seemed to hover in the air, wings outstretched. Beautiful. “I’ve been thinking about how to trap it…”
Below us, the falcon jerked. It tilted, its wings splayed oddly, then plummeted from the sky. It dropped into the swamp and didn’t rise.
I caught my breath. “What happened?”
“Someone shot it! I saw— I think it was an arrow. Come on.”