“No,” he said slowly. “More like I was under the influence of a power not my own.”
I didn’t want to give credence to this. Nathaniel had hurt me. But I had a flash of remembrance, the feeling I’d had of something alien looking out from Nathaniel’s eyes.
“What power could have overcome you?” I asked. “You’re not the weakest of Azazel’s court.”
Nathaniel’s eyes flashed. “Whose castle do we presently reside in?”
“Amarantha? Why?”
“Perhaps she wanted to drive a wedge between us. Perhaps she wanted to destabilize your base of power in her court.”
“Well, she succeeded,” I muttered. I crossed my arms, then let them fall at my sides again. I wasn’t going to hide from him. “Was there something you wanted?”
“The gargoyle told me that you are to enter the Maze.”
I was surprised. I didn’t think Beezle would have left me only to talk to Nathaniel, who was not one of his favorite people at the best of times.
“What’s it to you?” I said.
“I would rather you returned from the Maze alive than dead,” Nathaniel said. “I have come to give you a gift.”
He stepped out of the doorway, and it was then that I saw the sword he carried in his free hand.
It was about four feet long, and the metal was silver in color, but it gleamed like no metal I had seen before. The blade was carved with a series of strange sigils that glittered in the lamplight. The cross guard and grip were black as obsidian but shone with a strange light in their depths. A serpent was carved around the hilt. Its black eyes seemed to see me, weigh me, judge me in a moment.
I knew that I was looking at something that was not of this earth.
“It is the sword of my father, the angel Zerachiel,” Nathaniel said. “He had dominion over the earth at one time. Lucifer gifted him with this sword many millennia ago.”
I reached out to touch the strange blade, but then drew my hand away. “Why would you give this to me?”
He looked away from my questioning gaze. “I had hoped to give it to our son one day. Since that future is no longer to be, I wish you to use the sword to survive the Maze. It was forged by Lucifer’s own hand, and it has powers of its own. The sword would be pleased to be held by Lucifer’s blood again.”
I still hesitated, and Nathaniel read my hesitation correctly.
“It is a gift freely given. There will be no price to pay. I ask only that, if you return from the Maze, you think better of me. You cannot know how I regret what occurred last night,” he said.
I didn’t think I’d be thinking any better of his character anytime soon, and it was difficult for me to reconcile his apparent regret with the terror and helplessness I’d felt. Even if there was a strong possibility that he had been under a spell, the memory would stay with me forever.
But I appreciated any help I could get surviving the Maze, even if I didn’t know the first thing about swordplay. I just hoped that I wouldn’t cut off one of my own limbs accidentally.
“Thank you,” I said, and I reached for the sword.
As soon as the hilt met my palm, I felt something deep inside me sing out with joy. The snake seemed to writhe against my skin, and the blade noticeably gleamed brighter.
“It recognizes you,” Nathaniel said softly. “It has been waiting for you.”
There was a power surging in my blood, a power that had been buried so deep that only the sword could have drawn it from me. I looked up, and Nathaniel gasped.
“Your eyes,” he said.
I turned my head toward the mirror, and instead of the field of stars that manifested when I wielded my magic, I saw the burning heart of the sun, the light of the Morningstar.
“I think that when Focalor sees you, he will think twice about crossing Lord Lucifer,” Nathaniel said.
“Never mind Lucifer,” I said, and the new power inside me called out for battle. “He’d better worry about crossing me.”
15
NATHANIEL FITTED ME UP WITH A SCABBARD THAT slung across my body so that I could carry the sword on my back. Despite my growing suspicion that someone had been controlling Nathaniel during his attack, it was difficult to stand still while he touched me. Whether by his own power or another’s he was the one who had put his hands on me with the intent to harm.
When he was done—with a lot of apologies on his part and a lot of indrawn breaths on mine—he made me practice my draw.
“Better swordsmen than you have cut their own necks drawing their swords this way,” he said. “But you are so small that you would not comfortably be able to carry the blade at your waist.”
Despite my total lack of experience the sword leapt to my hand easily and smoothly every time.
Nathaniel stood back, satisfied. “It is coming to your call. That is good. It will help you when you face the unknown.”
There was a knock at the door, and I opened it. A servant stood there.
“Queen Amarantha requires your presence in the throne room, Ambassador Black.”
I glanced back at Nathaniel. “Showtime. Are you coming?”
He shook his head. He looked tired, and sad, and in pain, and I didn’t know how to feel about that. “Go with the grace of the Morningstar.”
I nodded, and then followed the servant to the throne room.
I tried not to think about what was going to happen. Nathaniel’s gift had given me a little more confidence, but the odds still did not look good. The fact that no one had ever survived the Maze was something I tried not to think about.
The courtiers were assembled when I entered the throne room. The wolves stood near Amarantha’s throne at the front of the crowd. Wade looked deeply troubled, Jude frowned like he wasn’t sure about how to feel, and James . . . There was a strange, almost bloodthirsty, light in his eyes.
I didn’t have time to wonder about the wolves’ feelings. I had my own skin to worry about.
I crossed the room, and as I passed the courtiers they whispered.
“Did you see her eyes?”
“Where did she get that sword?”
Focalor and Antares stood in front of Amarantha’s throne and they both turned to watch me approach. When Focalor saw my eyes, his jaw clenched, and I thought I saw a flash of fear in his demon eyes. Antares was too stupid to be worried about any threat from me. He looked pathetically eager.
I saw J.B. and Beezle standing a little to the side. Beezle rested on J.B.’s shoulder and I felt a strange pang of hurt. Beezle never did that with anybody but me. J.B. looked like he was going to be sick.
Amarantha clapped her hands together in satisfaction when she saw me. I was happy to see that she had put on something more substantial than the lingerie model getup she’d had on earlier, although the dress’s low cut still didn’t leave a lot to the imagination. Subtle, thy name is not Amarantha.
Gabriel was nowhere to be seen. I wondered if he was being punished for defying Amarantha earlier, or if she just didn’t want him anywhere near me before I went into the Maze.
“Ambassador Black, you will be pleased to hear that Lord Focalor has agreed to participate in the challenge of the Maze. His representative Antares will be entering the Maze with you.”
“Big surprise,” I muttered.
“The terms are as follows,” Amarantha continued. “Ambassador Black will enter from the east side of the Maze. Antares ap Azazel will enter from the west side at precisely the same time. The thrall Gabriel ap Ramuell is held at the center of the maze. Whoever reaches the thrall first will take him as their prize. Once you have successfully returned with your prize, I will commence negotiations with the winning court. Are these terms acceptable to you both?”