It gleamed silver in the dull light, and in the wind that whistled over it, it sang. Power, clean as water, ran down its length.
Gripping the hilt in both hands, Zoe struggled to her feet. And hoisting the sword over her head, she charged. A warrior's cry ripped from her throat—a sound not completely her own—had Kane spinning toward her.
There was a jolt, a kind of electric snap, as she burst through the wall. Sparks shot out from the shock of light. There were a thousand screams in her head, the singe of burning along her skin. As Kane threw up his arms to strike, she plunged the blade through his heart.
The ground heaved under her feet, and her arms shook from the sudden blast of cold. She saw his face change— the fury, the shock, even the fear drowning away as his eyes went red. His jaw lengthened, his cheeks hollowed as the illusion of beauty died.
His hair grayed and changed into thin coils, and as his lips peeled back she saw teeth as sharp as sabers.
Though she staggered from the strain, she kept her grip tight on the sword when he fell. Panting, she stood over him and watched a god die.
He faded into the mist, or it into him, until there was nothing but the shadow of him on the snow. Then the shadow melted and she stood holding a sword with its tip dug into the ground.
"Well fought, little mother." His voice riddled with pain, Pitte knelt in front of her, took her hand and kissed her fingers. "I owe you more than my life."
"Rowena… she's hurt."
"I'll tend her." With obvious effort, he got to his feet, then simply smiled when she held out the sword to him. "It belongs to you now," he said and walked over to cradle his woman.
"Zoe." His face smeared with blood, with smoke, Brad touched her hair, her cheek, then with a strangled sound wrapped his arms tight around her. "Zoe."
"I'm all right. You're hurt. Are you hurt? Simon."
He tightened his hold as she tried to shove away. "Safe. I promise. I made sure he was safe before I came after you. Trust me."
She let the sword drop to the ground and locked her arms around him. "With everything I've got."
Chapter Twenty
It wasn't the way she'd planned to spend the great American holiday, but it seemed appropriate to celebrate it at Warrior's Peak.
The details of transporting everything, dealing with the food, the preparations, calmed her. Though she had expected the key to be the first order of business, Rowena had other ideas.
“This is an important ritual for you, for your friends." In the vast dining room Rowena laid plates on the grand table. "It must be observed."
"It's a gorge-fest," Zoe told her and, unable to help herself, stepped over to stroke Rowena's hair. "You don't have to do this. You still look a little pale. We've got plenty of hands around here. Why don't you lie down for a bit?"
"I want to have a part." Thoughtfully, Rowena circled a finger around the rim of a plate. "I need time to settle myself, and something to do until my mind's quiet again. You understand this."
"Yeah, I do." Surprised, and touched, Zoe rubbed Rowena's arm when she leaned against her.
"I thought, for a moment, I thought all was lost. His power was so full of hate and fury. I wasn't prepared for it. Perhaps I couldn't have been. All I know, all I am… but I couldn't stop him. Even Pitte would have fallen."
"He didn't. We didn't."
"No. I've learned a lesson in humility."
"Rowena, she gave me the sword. How could that be?"
"As I miscalculated Kane's power, so did Kane miscalculate the king's. His power, his patience, his purpose. He gave you Kyna's sword, through her image."
She began to set the table again. "I'm allowed to see this now. Allowed to see that the battle in my world, for my world, has never ended. Kane gathered strength while we searched here for the chosen. He bargained with the darkest of forces, traded his own soul for power, even as those who followed him used might or intrigue or sabotage to keep the king and those loyal to him focused on maintaining the balance behind the Curtain."
Her movements still a bit stiff, Rowena walked around the table. "Much has been lost since we were sent here. But there was never defeat. I feared that," she said, looking over at Zoe. "Perhaps my fear made me weak when I finally stood against Kane. But my king is not weak. Kane mistook his ability to love, his kindness, and his compassion for weakness and forgot his wisdom and his terrible power."
"I saw him," Zoe said softly. "I saw him, a gold buck with a jeweled collar. This morning, standing outside the house, watching me."
"He has watched us all, more closely than I knew. He waited, grieved, fought, planned, three thousand years for the ones who could free his children. You were the only ones who could. I was not shown this until now. All these years, the failures, the preparations, they were all leading to you."