Bob let out a sound akin to a snort as I hastily pulled on a pair of panties and oversized tee-shirt. “You woke me for a lightbulb? Really, Miranda?”
This wasn’t just any bright light. It was malevolent. The room seemed to shrink around it, as if it were absorbing the life force of everything around. I slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Xander, and moved stealthily towards the window. The light outside was blinding, but I forced my eyes to adjust.
Suddenly, the light morphed into a fuzzy, glowing entity, its brightness a cruel mockery of the sun. It was all consuming, eating up the darkness, consuming the night. I gripped Bob tighter, my knuckles white with the intensity. The Blade of Bane hummed, as if sensing the impending danger.
“All right, I see your point,” Bob finally conceded, the tone of its voice changing from its usual dry wit to something more serious. “That doesn’t look like any lightbulb I’ve ever seen.”
Summoning all my courage, I crept out of the bedroom to the living room. Scalding brightness shone in through the front windows and cut in from around the edges of my front door, trying to get in, trying to hurt me.
There was a presence on the other side of that door. And I held the only weapon that could destroy anything and anyone.
A certainty settled into my gut. If I didn’t cut this thing down now, everything was going to burn up. Me, Xander, and everyone I cared about.
I could feel Bob's energy coursing through me, a tingling sensation that spread from my fingertips to the soles of my feet. I could kill it. I knew it in the marrow of my bones that this was the moment to do it.
I threw the door open and leapt out of my house. Bob and I flew through the air with a true strike that would kill the enemy.
A high-pitched scream reverberated, jolting me from my brave attack. My eyes snapped open, the glow of the fuzzy entity fading as I blinked in the face of Xander. Surprise widened his eyes, a flicker of astonishment dancing within them. I wasn’t outside at all. I was still in the living room of my house.
I looked down at the sword in my hand. Bob was buried deep in Xander’s chest. The menacing, world-ending entity was just another dream. And I had been sleep walking again.
But more than that, behind Xander cowered a small figure. My son, Jamal.
My son. Home from camp?
Confusion and panic grappled for control of my brain.
What was happening? Nothing made sense. “What. . .what are you doing here, Jamal?” My voice was rough from sleep and confusion.
My words hung in the air, unanswered. Jamal was frozen in place, his eyes wide with terror. His gaze flitted between me and the stranger I'd run through in our living room.
Oh my god.
The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. I’d been about to hurt Jamal. I’d almost killed my own son. But Xander jumped in the way.
Glyphs lit up along Bob’s blade. That hadn’t happened since the first time I used the sword to kill Xander.
Xander crumpled to the ground, and I fell to my knees with him, trying to hold him up as best I could.
I pulled the blade out of Xander’s heart, and a blue glow of energy shot out, winding around the blade, traveling upward and winding around my arm. It was the same hue as Xander’s power.
What the hell?
A strange buzzing thrummed through my bones, spreading out to my entire body. I’d only felt this one other time. When the goddess Bast threw herself on my blade, and died.
“Oh Miranda,” Bob said in a way that made my stomach drop out of my body.
No. No. It couldn’t be. This wasn’t it. This wasn’t the one that did it.
Xander’s eyes met mine, an inexplicable sadness mixing with his pain.
“Miranda,” he rasped, his voice a mere whisper. “I. . . I couldn't let him get hurt.”
“Xander,” I choked out, tears blurring my vision. His life force was ebbing away, his divinity dimming with each passing second. “What. . .what have I done?” Panic rose in my throat like a pile of bugs growing higher until it was in my mouth. I had to push back the urge to throw up.
Xander’s pained gaze flickered to Jamal. My son didn’t know him, didn’t know anything about him. And yet Xander had sacrificed himself for him.
“You made me want...to live, sweetheart,” Xander admitted, his voice barely audible.
