> “Mercy is a mysterious concept. It can come in many forms. It can be found in many places. I have both sought it and given it. But after receiving the latest missive from Europe, the word no longer has any meaning for me.”
“I’m sorry, too,” said Emma, as she pushed herself up from the ground. She extended her charred hand, slowly wrenching White Hilt free from my stomach with her rings, and I let out a primal scream that rang out through the cavernous hall before collapsing onto my knees.
In those few seconds of agony, I saw the last few months of effort flash before my eyes. My journey to California and back, my reunion with Beatrice, my trip to the void, my scuba and weapons training, my dive into the deep, it was all for naught. I had failed because I had been careless and stupid and overconfident, and I was going to wind up a withered old crone to boot.
I reached my hand under my shirt, trying to find the probably-green glowing wound, but all my fingers felt was smooth skin.
“Don’t let her know,” said a voice in my head and, before I could turn around in shock, the voice continued. “I’m not here, so don’t look for me.”
“OK,” I said in my head, not believing that it was actually Beatrice. Perhaps the mental weight of everything had finally snapped the barrier I had erected in my mind and I was now imagining things. Maybe this whole thing was a delusion, and I was really still trapped at the bottom of the East River.
“If you’re not here, then how did you know?”
“I felt it,” she said. “Like the burning of a thousand suns. Nearly toppled over. For a moment, it was as if I was you. But then the pain suddenly subsided.”
“Are you still-”
“No,” said Beatrice. “Thankfully. But I regret even more this special bond we have. Now get up. You have a trial to win.”
I complied and grabbed Curtana as I slowly got back to my feet, pretending to be in complete anguish. Wincing, I held the Relic aloft with my right hand, and with my left, I beckoned Emma forward, like I had seen in so many old kung fu movies.
“What?” said Emma. “You’re still going to try to fight?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” I said with a chuckle. “Was that supposed to hurt? I barely felt it.”
“Shut. Up.”
She tossed White Hilt at me end-over-end, but with the power of the focus ink, I studied its movements, predicted its path, and knocked it to the side with ease. The dagger flew back into Emma’s hand and she tried again, but this time, I stepped forward and caught it. My opponent’s anger began to build, as she yanked White Hilt from my grip so hard that she almost took one of my fingers with it. I steadied myself for another attack, but instead, in one raw burst of fury, she turned around and threw the Relic into an empty section of the Pavonia riser, shattering the wood where it made impact, and then hissed at Hugo and the earring-adorned woman when they went to retrieve it.
“I’m over here,” I said, waving at Emma with a mocking smile.
In response, she moved both of her hands onto Solais’s magnificent hilt, raised it above her head, and charged at me, screaming all the way. I parried her at the last second, almost losing my balance, but before I could take a breath, she brought the blade down to my feet, and I used Curtana to vault backwards. We danced around the ring, but without my speed, I could only play defense against Emma’s superior skills. Even though she had the upper hand, there was a creeping desperation in her successive attacks, and eventually, she resorted to hammering Solais against Curtana’s pole so hard that I thought she was going to slice it in two.
“Just.”
Slash.
“Give.”
Swipe.
“Up.”
Lunge.
“No,” I said, barely blocking all three.
“Fine,” said Emma, who delivered a sharp kick to my stomach that finally sent me to the ground.
“You’re done,” said Emma, standing over me with Solais at my throat. “Not sure how you shrugged off White Hilt, but you’ve got nothing left. You stand alone, your borrowed talent expired, bereft of friends or any means of defeating me.”
“Not alone,” someone yelled out from the audience and we both turned to see a blonde girl appear behind Ty, dressed in a black skirt and knee-high black boots. But it wasn’t Beatrice. It was…
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“Callie?” cried Emma. “Is that … how are you-”
“Callie is nothing but a faint echo,” said the girl, holding up a glittering green-stoned necklace from around her neck. “And she belongs to me!”
“I’LL KILL YOU!” screamed Emma, abandoning her finishing pose and charging toward the edge of the ring. But before she could reach “Callie,” I extended Curtana and knocked her feet out from under her mid-stride. Emma turned around, a burning fire in her eyes, but it was just enough of a pause for Dalia to intervene.
“There will be no killing,” she said. “This isn’t a fight to the death. Also, murder wasn’t covered by the Armory’s waiver. Your opponent is over there, Ms. Patel. You can deal with any extracurriculars once this match is done.”
Emma glared at Dalia with the fury of a lion denied its prey and turned slowly back toward me.
“You’ve got your distraction,” said Beatrice, and I looked at “Callie,” who had sat down quietly in her seat. “Don’t waste it.”
Emma and I resumed our sparring, but she had clearly lost a step, as her mental energy was split between defeating me and puzzling over the sudden reappearance of the girl who had been her friend. Some would have called it a dirty trick and were it not for my own earlier stupidity, I probably wouldn’t have needed it all.
But thankfully, I had taken Jade’s words to heart. I made sure, no matter what, that I had a way to win. And that is why I had tasked Beatrice with hunting down Polly and retrieving the glamour she had called “Eva.” Even weeks later, it still made me sick to my stomach to think about what Steve had done, how he had preyed on Emma and her friends, how he had crossed the pale into forbidden alchemy, and worst of all, how he had offered up the results to his own daughter. Remedying that wrong, however, would have to wait just a bit longer.
“She’s not dead,” I said, as I twirled around and knocked Emma in the side of her gut with Curtana. “For the glamour stone to work, it needs-”
“Don’t you dare fucking say her name,” said Emma. She tried to charge forward with Solais, but pulled back at the last second, the pain in her right hand too great to support the sword. It felt bad to take advantage, but I did anyway, tripping her again as she retreated.
“It’s too much,” I said. “You need to stop. Before your hand becomes-”
Emma spit in my face before sweeping Solais at my feet, in a clumsy repeat move I saw coming, even without the focus ink. I wiped the projectile attack from my cheek and launched a counter before Emma could get to her feet, stabbing at her midsection in successive alternating thrusts that tore up the bottom of her shirt. But no matter hard I sliced, the sword once again refused to draw blood.
Even in her depleted state, Emma came quickly to the same conclusion, that whatever secret magic Curtana possessed, its blade couldn’t hurt her. She smiled and pushed herself up with her good hand, before discarding Solais on the ground.
“What are you doing?” I asked as I assumed a defensive stance.
“Don’t need it to beat you,” she said. “Not with your dull edge.”
Emma tore through the middle of her shirt with her bare hands and tossed it aside, revealing a tank top underneath bearing a weird graphic of a two-headed elephant. I seized my advantage and launched a barrage at my weaponless opponent, which she effortlessly either dodged or blocked with one hand. I used my remaining strength ink to make every hit take a toll, but the resulting decrease in speed made it even easier for Emma to avoid my attacks.
My options fading, I activated the last of my focus ink and yet still, my thoughts drifted from path to path. I could keep fighting this uphill battle and eventually Emma would wear me down and I would have to give up. I could retreat into a defensive shell and hope that Emma would wear herself down. Or I could figure out Curtana’s secret, but all I had was one cryptic note in a hundreds-year-old book. Compared to the pieces I had assembled to unlock the Medoblad’s puzzle, this was like being handed a single breadcrumb.
“Help!” I cried to Beatrice. “I’m running out of options.”
“There’s one thing you can do,” she replied. “But not sure your weird moral code of ethics will allow you to do it.”
“What?”
“You’ve been avoiding her weak hand for some reason. But why? No mercy.”
I shook my head.
“You’re right,” I said. “I won’t do it. I’m holding the Sword of Mercy, I have to-”
“Good luck then,” said Beatrice. “Let me know when you come to your senses.”
She was right. It was absolutely illogical to not press the one advantage I had. But a small part of me resisted. How could I use that to win when it was my fault in the first place that her hand looked like a prop from a zombie movie?
My full attention turned back to the fight just in time for me to see Emma’s fist coming straight toward my chin. With my forearms clean once again and Curtana down at my side, the only thing I could do was brace for the impact. The blow sent me staggering backwards onto the ground, and I saw stars forming in my peripheral vision. Sensing my moment of weakness, Emma went for the finishing move. She extended her bad hand out in front of her, and I came to the horrible realization that White Hilt’s return path from the Breuckelen section passed directly through me.
However, unlike in the alley, the dagger did not easily fly back into Emma’s grasp. Her fingers trembled, and she let out a desperate scream as she tried to pull the auragen tether, but it was clear that even with her steeled determination, she just couldn’t muster the strength to finish the job. Putting her out of her misery would almost be a mercy at this point, I thought, the amount of pain she was in.
The realization hit me like a ton of bricks, and a cold sweat broke out on my brow. It was so simple, so elegant. Of course there had been nothing else in the Compendium about my Relic. Perhaps it had been used hundreds of years ago in such a manner for soldiers on the battlefield, or perhaps it had been used to deliver the final killing blow in lieu of a more painful death. Whatever the reasons for its creation, its legacy, whether horrific or benevolent, was now in my hands.
The wood behind me finally splintered and with only a few seconds to act, I still hesitated, as a part of me pushed back against the enormity of the choice I needed to make. But that’s when the small remaining sliver of Svetlana’s courage surfaced from deep within me.
Too many times I had watched myself give in to forces that I thought were outside of my control, to people that I thought had absolute power over me.
No more.
And so, I grabbed Curtana with no hesitation, and with one sure stroke, cut Emma’s hand clean off.