“Revenn?”
“The one you call the practitioner. He wasn’t born with that level of skill, of course. He was left at an Aetheric shrine, raised by the Enshrined Monks. Got his hands on some texts and learned about unification.”
“You planned for this weapon when you were the curate. We found the reports,” I added at the surprise in his eyes.
“When this all started. But then the god up and disappeared.”
“I’m told he’s under attack.”
Gryffin looked at me. “You don’t say? How curious.”
He didn’t look at all curious. He looked smug. “What does an Aetheric weapon do?” I wondered. “It carries Aether, but it’s still a blade. Doesn’t need Aether to cut.”
“Not humans,” he said. “Anima.”
The ember pulsed, as if the fear of a million Anima had surged through it.
“HumansandAnima,” I said quietly.
“That’s the breakthrough.” Gryffin smiled proudly. “A Terran weapon that will hold an Aetheric charge, useful against beings from both realms.”
“Anima aren’t attacking us,” I said, and saying it aloud made me understand. “You don’t want to defend Terra. You want to attack the Aetheric?”
“I want to use the weapons available to us. That includes Anima. If our weapons are strong enough, there will be no need for fighting.”
“You think the Aetheric god is going to let you use his Anima?”
“What Aetheric god? He’s conveniently indisposed.” There was nothing pleasant about the gleam in his eyes.
Because I’d been distracting him, Gryffin had momentarily forgotten about his nephew. At the sound of movement, Gryffin glanced back just in time to see Nik push the sword away and lunge forward. He grabbed his uncle’s legs, sending them both to the floor. His uncle, clearly still strong from years of travel, gave Nik a good grapple, but he dropped the Aetheric sword—and I was there to claim it.
Nik turned him over and pinned him, chest to the floor and arms at the small of his back. I pointed the Aetheric sword at him, just for the fun of it.
But it wasn’t fun; the weapon felt wrong, and it left an uncomfortable buzzing in my palm.
Nik looked up at me, grinned. “I know you’d like to play with that, but would you please open the door before they break it down?”
I put the sword on a table well out of Gryffin’s reach and unlocked the closest door. Red and a dozen soldiers waited outside, swords raised and ready to hack through the wood.
“The party is over,” I said, and moved aside so they could come in. “But you might want to check on Galen.”
Red sent guards to help Galen sit up, sent for Sanj, and hauled Gryffin to his feet. “Downstairs?” Red asked.
Nik nodded, and Gryffin was hauled out of the room at (Terran) swordpoint.
“Downstairs?” I asked.
“There’s a small jail, where he’ll be kept until we send him back to the City of Flowers for the emperor’s judgment.”
“Will he make it back alive?”
“Depends on how many enemies or friends he’s made along the way—and how valuable my father believes he may be. He sowed this a decade ago,” he added darkly. “He’ll reap what he will.” Then he glanced over at the sword. “It’s gorgeous.”
“It really is,” I agreed.
“It can’t stay here.”
“It really cannot.”
