The older man tilted his head slightly as his blue eyes narrowed in on me. “Detective Cross said that you are in possession of a cursed weapon that needs to be locked away?”
With difficulty, I stole my attention from his bushy, caterpillar-like eyebrows. “Uh, yes. The Soul Knife, which belonged to an Italian mage. I’ve been storing it in the ether for safekeeping, but I need to get rid of it. Someplace safe that no one can access.”
“A Soul Knife,” he grunted. “I haven’t seen one of those for ages. A particularly medieval and fiendish weapon. You can be assured that it will be safe in the Vault. It’s impregnable."
Neve glanced at the weathered archmage, and something flashed across her face that caused his gaze to harden with an undercurrent of annoyance. What the hell was that about?
It didn’t matter. I held out my hand to call the knife, then hesitated. “Once it’s safe in the Vault, I won’t be able to summon it back, will I?”
The archmage furrowed his brow. “Once something is inside the Vault, it’s impervious to outside magic. No power on this Earth could summon it because it is no longer on this earth.”
The tension in my shoulders eased. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”
I rubbed my palms on my jeans and focused my mind on the Soul Knife to summon it to me, imagining how it felt in my palm.
Nothing.
Pressing my lids shut, I dug deeper, recalling the patinaed bronze blade, the inscribed runes and raised ridge that cut down its center. My magic strained, and I tasted the knife’s signature—oaky and rich like wine on my tongue—but I couldn’t seem to draw the cursed thing from the ether.
I opened my eyes and growled in frustration.
DeLoren cocked one of his hoary eyebrows. “Is something wrong?”
“I can’t summon it,” I said in surprise.
“Have you summoned it before?” he asked, the slightest undercurrent of irritation in his voice.
I held out my hand again and gave a snarl of frustration when the knife didn’t appear. “I’ve done it dozens of times. Something’s wrong.”
“Hmm.” The archmage rubbed his beard thoughtfully. “Maybe your mind is unfocused. Let me see if I can help.”
Unfocused? I paused and shot him a piercing glare. I was exhausted and stressed. I hadn’t slept in a day, and the Dark God was looming over everything I did. So yeah, maybe I was unfocused.
Neve stepped up beside me and squeezed my shoulder. “Take a breath, Savy. You’ve been through a lot recently. You’ve got this.”
I inhaled deeply and nodded. “Okay. Let’s try again.”
DeLoren’s magic flared and enveloped me like a warm blanket, but I still couldn’t get a sense of it. I cleared my racing thoughts and focused on the Soul Knife. The heaviness of the blade in my hand. The coolness of the metal.
The sound of wheat blowing in the wind hummed in my ears. It was close.
And then, a cold weight tugged against my magic and sent a shiver down my spine as the wound on my shoulder ached. A deep voice rose in my mind: Why would you want to give up your claws, little wolf? We have so much work to do.
The Dark Wolf God.
Creeping terror clawed at my heart, and my eyes flew open.
“Shit,” I gasped, dragging my hand through my hair. Was he blocking my magic? Trying to control me?
Neve looked between DeLoren and me, worry in her eyes. “What happened?”
Jaxson’s warning to Casey burned in my mind: Tell no one until we understand what’s going on.
I could trust Neve, but the archmage? I didn’t know him. If they learned that the Dark God was trying to take control of me…
“I need some fresh air.” The walls of the corridor were constricting, and the magic pulsing off the Vault was making me nauseous. My head throbbed, and my heart began to race.
I didn’t pause to explain, but just bolted down the hall and punched the call button on the elevator a half dozen times.
You can’t run, little wolf. Sooner or later, you will submit to me,the Dark God said.
Terror coursed through my veins, and when the doors opened, I threw myself inside, jamming the starred button for the lobby. What am I going to do?
“Hey, wait up.” Neve slipped between the closing doors. “What’s going on, Savy? You’re freaking me out.”
Her signature filled the small space, and after a moment, it felt like I could breathe again. That the dark presence in my soul had lifted.
Her vivid eyes shone with concern, and she pulled the stop button on the elevator. “Talk to me.”
I swallowed hard, chest heaving. “He stopped me from releasing the Soul Knife.”
“Who?” she asked, eyes bright with concern.
I pressed myself against the back of the elevator. “The Dark Wolf God. I heard his voice. I think he wants to use me.”
“We should tell DeLoren.”
I grabbed her arm and whispered, “No! There are prophecies about the Dark God…and about me. If people misinterpret them, it could go really, really badly for me. I need to figure out what’s happening first.”
Neve’s expression turned grim. She nodded and released the stop button.
The elevator lurched up to the main floor, and the doors opened. She followed me across the foyer and out the front doors. The sky was still overcast, blotting out the fading sun. I slumped onto the stairs and stared out across the green expanse of the Midway. “Please don’t tell anyone yet.”
Neve sat down beside me and squeezed my hand. “I won’t say anything, and you can count on my help, one hundred percent. We’ll figure this out, gods and prophecies both. I know things probably feel wildly out of control right now—I’ve been there—but we’re all in charge of our own destinies, even though it may not feel like it at times.”
I nodded, but I wasn’t sure I believed it.