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While Luke was rubbing his eyes, Delilah bounded in. I thought she was going to slash at him with her knife, but instead she pulled out a large bottle from her pocket and splashed him with water. Luke's skin sizzled where it hit—she must be using the blessed Tygerian water! He roared again, swinging wildly, and caught her in the side, knocking her a good twenty feet back. Delilah spun in the air, landing in a crouch. Leave it to a cat to land on her feet.
Just then, Luke turned, and I found myself facing him in his full fury. Terrified, for his sight seemed to have cleared and there was nothing to prevent him from breathing his poison in my face or smashing me with one of those humongous fists, I stumbled away, racing for the woods.
As I reached the tree line, I felt the wave of a heat blast behind me and heard the crackle of flames. I didn't have time to glance over my shoulder, but I knew that Luke had let loose his fiery blade. I leapt over a bramble bush, only to find myself ankle deep in a mud hole.
As I freed myself from the muck, the rattle of trees told me the demon was coming my way. I plunged off in another direction, darting around the windfalls and snags until I found myself face-to-face with a log that must have been four feet in diameter. Covered with moss, it was slippery, and as I tried to scramble over it, I could hear Luke's garbled curses as he thrashed through the woods.
What was I going to do? Father had warned us that fire wouldn't work against the demon, nor would charms or guns. Unless we happened to have a tank turret or a hulking big cannon handy, we were plumb out of luck. I finally found a toehold and scrambled over the log, crouching on the forest floor behind the tree trunk. Not the greatest cover, but better than nothing.
Sudden silence. I steadied myself so that I was taking shallow, even breaths that might be soft enough to escape his notice. After a moment, I heard him take one step, then another. He must not have seen me when I slipped behind the tree, and it was blocking him from seeing my body heat. I hunkered lower and ran through my available options.
I could shoot another blast of energy at him, but it wouldn't take him down. What would put out a demon's fire? Water… blessed water. But we'd need a swimming pool full of it. What else might affect Luke? I racked my brain and then—then I knew.
The one weakness the demon had.
My father had been the sole survivor of the guards who attacked Luke. The demon had mowed them down with his poison gas, and my father had been lucky enough to be standing out of reach. He'd told us that the only way he'd escaped was when he managed to stab Luke with his sword. The demon was about to swing on him when Father took a blind swing. His sword connected with the demon, plunging the tip into Luke's side.
Luke had dropped him, and Father had managed to get away while the demon was doubled over. Father hadn't been able to figure out why exactly that had happened, because the knife hadn't hit any vital organs or really done much damage at all, but he didn't stay to figure it out. He barely escaped with his life.
When I was a child, I was in charge of polishing Father's sword for him. I'd carefully spread a mixture of beeswax and oil on the blade and wipe it to a high sheen. It tarnished easily because it was silver. And that's what had done the damage—not Father's actual strike but the silver inherent within the blade.
Luke was as vulnerable to silver as the Sidhe were to iron! I was sure of it. So what we needed were silver weapons. Or silver bullets. One swipe caused pain. Enough blows, and we should be able to kill Luke.
I had to get the information back to the others, but how? Should I try to transform myself or make myself invisible? A movement in front of me caught my attention. A cat, a golden tabby to be exact, crawled into my lap. She had a blue collar on.
I knew that Delilah could understand me in her transformed shape, so I leaned as close to her ear as I could, and as softly as possible, said, "Silver weapons will kill Luke if we hit him enough times." Delilah blinked and licked my face, then slinked off through the trees and vanished into the night.
Another thump told me that Luke was getting antsy. "Come out now, and I'll make it quick," he said.
I decided to forgo his charming invitation. Maybe I could turn into a bug or something—anything—small enough to scuttle off. But what if it didn't work? What if I turned into a giant bull's-eye, or just managed to unleash a huge puff of smoke? I'd be dead.
And then the forest shuddered with the groaning of trees and the snapping of branches. What the hell?
"Grrmph?" Luke sounded like he'd taken a nasty thud on the back.
I straightened my shoulders just as all hell broke loose. The woods lit up like Washington, D.C., on the Fourth of July, and much to my chagrin, a flaming branch landed next to me. Scrambling to my feet, I swung around.
Luke was embroiled in a battle with Smoky, who had managed to wedge himself through the forest, knocking over several trees in the process. Luke had let go with a blast of fire, which did nothing but ash up Smoky's leathery hide, and now Smoky was tearing at Luke with his claws in a scene remarkably reminiscent of Godzilla versus King Kong.
Just then, Morio, Chase, and Delilah came racing onto the scene, carrying the silver swords that we kept in the living room cabinet. They attacked, with Chase and Morio swinging in from behind. Smoky fell back as Delilah went in from the front, her sword in hand.
I scrambled back over the log and summoned the lightning again. As Luke bellowed, they stabbed at him, the sharp, short cuts causing more damage from the silver than from the actual blood lost.
And then I knew what I could do. Instead of firing forks of lightning, I formed them into a giant arrow of shimmering silver light and aimed for his eyes. It flew in true aim, striking dead center on his forehead, where it drove itself deep. Luke screamed and then, teetering, crashed backward to the ground. Delilah launched herself at his heart, her sword driving deep into his body. Luke arched, howled once, and collapsed. It was over.
"Is he really dead?" Delilah asked, prodding him with her sword.
Smoky shimmered and once again stood there in all his buff glory. He leaned over Luke, performing several checks that I had no desire to partake in.
"He's dead." He stood up and wiped his hands on the mossy ground cover.
"I was afraid that we were all going to be dead meat." Delilah dropped onto the nearest log and looked at the sword. "Thank the gods Father made us bring these when we came Earthside."
I stumbled over to them and dropped to my knees next to the dragon. "Father's sword was silver. Remember he told us how he managed to get away from Luke? When I thought about it, the only conclusion I could come to was that it was the metal, because it sure wasn't the blow, not after the attacks this creature took." A sudden thought occurred to me, and I glanced up at Morio. "Sword, please?"
With a knowing look on his face, he handed it to me. I spread out old Bad Ass's hand and brought the sword down across four of his fingers. Chase grimaced, and even Smoky looked askance.
"You never know when you're going to need an extra," I said, pocketing them. "One for Grandmother Coyote, and three for the spell cabinet."
