Page 243 of Volik

This is a weapon for death.

This blade will cut through vampiric lifelines.

The wielder of this dagger is meant to kill the killer of wolves.

I pull my hands apart, slowly.

The items hover between my palms.

I curl my fingers against the force of the glow, and the metal reforms.

It pulls. Twists. It follows my commands.

I recite old magic. I shift my left hand.

The hilt shapes to fit fingers smaller than mine.

The blade extends. Stretches.

Sharpens.

I push my palms closer together. Shoving extra magic into the stone.

It vibrates.

I force it to take even more power.

I will it to hold.

My hands move again, and the metal accepts the stone into the base of the hilt. Strips of metal pull away and cross over the top of the stone.

Locking in the magic.

Securing the curse.

Volik is standing beside me, looking down at the weapon in my hand.

The vampire killer.

I turn to him, holding out the slim dagger.

He reaches for it.

My fingers close around the hilt; the golden tint of the room darkens. “This weapon is important. But it is not the most important one today.”

I blink. And the glow leaves my eyes.

When I open my fingers, Volik takes the dagger from my hand.

He stares down at it. “I do not know where to go.”

Something catches my attention, and I lean to look around the vampire.

I narrow my eyes. “You’re going to Versailles.”

Volik spins to see as I flick a drop of magic, turning on the audio for the live video.

A male voice scrapes through the speakers. “Let Volik know what’s coming for him. Let him fear.”