Demon Forged

blade.
    Khavi had predicted that a dragon was coming. And Caelum’s voice would be lost.
    Irena shook her head. Each lungful of air she drew felt like wind sawing through a dried clump of grass. “We will not let it—”
    A vibration ran up her legs as if the ground beneath her feet shivered. But this wasn’t the brief tremor of a new Gate—the sensation amplified until the marble around them began to hum. A song rose from beneath, from above, swooping and rising through words she didn’t know.
    Michael. Irena felt for Alejandro’s hand, her eyes filling, though she thought she couldn’t possibly have more tears. She looked up—she couldn’t see him, but she searched the skies, backing away from the tower with Alejandro. The others moved with her, faces tilted up, slowly circling.
    His voice swelled, harmonious, almost bringing Irena to her knees. Always, Michael’s voice had been several voices in one but now more were held within it. She heard the mournful howl of a wolf and the rush of cold wind over her face. The roaring heat of a fire, the soothing murmur of a lover, the trembling heartbeat of fear, a sweet longing—sound that became sensation, emotion that became song, and Caelum responded to its touch.
    Marble ivy appeared at the base of Dru’s tower, climbed as if seeking the sun. In the distance, a thin spire flattened and stretched, forming a bold dome against the cerulean sky.
    A new building knifed upward, as smooth and narrow as a blade, rising high above the others. Fierce recognition tore through Irena. She had never seen any structure of its type, but everything within her leaped forward at the sight of that building, claimed: mine.
    The song faded. Irena strained to listen, trying to hold onto the music of it as long as she could. Already grieving its loss.
    But it faded, and silence filled Caelum again—except for the heartbeats and breath of those around her. Those Irena trusted and loved; those who, like her, were rigid with astonishment and awe; those who were just as terrified for Michael as she was.
    “Khavi may have predicted it,” she said, and clenched her fists. “But we will not let it come to pass.”

    From inside a hollow iron structure as big as the Special Investigations gymnasium, Alejandro watched Ames-Beaumont kiss his partner a final time. His face taut and pale, the vampire strode to Michael, who waited nearby. They vanished.
    Somewhere in Chaos, Ames-Beaumont would begin writing the symbols that would allow them to create a portal. Until then, novices, Guardians, and a few vampires waited in the cold empty room, and the only relief from the sight of the iron walls was the mirrored chamber that had been reassembled in the far corner.
    Standing next to Mariko and Radha, Luther caught Alejandro’s eye. Larger, darker in his Guardian form, he gave a wry nod before returning his attention to the women. With a Gift that allowed her to manipulate glass in a manner similar to Irena’s Gift with metal, Mariko was small and quick, and light armor guarded her forearms, chest, and thighs. Radha wore little more than two strips of red silk and her long black hair; she’d painted her body blue. Her Gift allowed her to pierce the strongest psychic shields—painfully—and disorient her target with illusions.
    With luck, her Gift would affect dragons, as well.
    Beside him, Irena sighed. Alejandro studied her face, memorizing every feature . . . again. He couldn’t see her fear any more, just as he no longer felt his. It had settled into determination—and in Chaos, they would both wield their determination like another sword.
    And he could not see the reason for her sigh. His breath froze to a vapor in the frigid air. “What is it?”
    She glanced up at him, and smiled faintly. “I had the thought that if Ames-Beaumont hadn’t had any friends, we would not be here.”
    Alejandro could imagine many meanings behind her statement, but he knew she only meant one: that if Ames-Beaumont had not made a blood-brother pact with his childhood friend when he’d been human, his blood could never have been tainted by Michael’s sword.
    The weapon that Michael had used to pierce the dragon’s heart during the Second Battle still carried the beast’s power within it. The blade cut through stone like water and could blaze with magical flames. And it could leave within a small human boy an anchor to the Chaos realm—and when that boy was transformed into a vampire and cursed,