Suddenly, orange light began to dance around the walls of the pit. Jandra stood up, holding a sword over her head. Faint flames flickered along the length of the weapon. Jammed against the hilt, pierced by the blade, was a lump of silver metal the size and shape of a human heart.
It was still beating.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE:
GET READY FOR MAGIC
Shay swallowed hard. He was ten feet away from Jandra but could feel the heat of the sword warming his face. The air smelled like a hot stove. Lizard, who normally clung to Jandra like a burr, scurried behind Shay and cowered between his legs.
"I'm not certain this was a good idea," he said. "I didn't expect the genie to look so… alive."
"It's not alive," said Jandra, her eyes focused on the reflection of her face in the silver heart. "It's only a tool. It's no more alive than a hammer."
"I've never seen a hammer pulse like that," said Shay. "I've stood by you Jandra. I believe in you and I've trusted your judgment this far. Now, I'm hoping you'll trust me. I think we should re-bury the heart and consider this further."
"You've got to be joking," she said. "After all we've been through to get our hands on this? You want to put it back in the ground?"
"I think-"
"When Bitterwood and I escaped from the Free City, he told me his hate was the hammer he used to knock down the walls of this world. That's all Bitterwood knows how to do-tear things down. I promised myself I would never walk that path. I don't want my life to be remembered for the things I've ruined. I want to be known as a maker, a builder, a healer. I need the power of this genie if I'm ever going to be the person I want to be."
"Jandra, you're already that person," said Shay. "You're a good woman. You're going to change the world with your kindness and wisdom. Put the heart back in the ground. There are other wonders we can take from this place. The wings, for instance. Tools that are a little less frightening."
"I'm not afraid of the genie," said Jandra.
"Aren't you afraid of the goddess?"
Jandra shook her head. "There're no such things as ghosts, Shay. Without a brain and a body, a person is gone forever. Jasmine Robertson is dead. You're covered in the ashes that were once her bones. She's not coming back."
"You still have her memories," said Shay.
"Those are, for better or worse, in my head," said Jandra. "It's my brain that will control the genie. Wearing this will help me make my own memories stronger, not weaker. I'm going to fix everything, Shay."
Jandra placed her hand upon the heart. Shay winced; given the unbearable heat of the sword, he expected a sizzling noise, followed by smoke. Her fingers skimmed along the surface. The metal pulsed more rapidly.
"It senses I'm here," said Jandra. "It's responding to my thoughts. I was right. It unlocked upon her death. And and it's hurting. It's wounded. It can't heal itself while the sword is inside it."
"You're speaking like it's a living thing," said Shay.
"Sorry," said Jandra. "It's not really alive, but it's easy to slip into biological terminology. The nanocomputers woven into the heart are programmed to regenerate if damaged. Right now, they can't overcome the constant destructive effects of the sword."
She grasped the hilt. "There's no trace of her inside the heart," she said.
"How can you know?"
"I know," she said.
She pulled the flaming sword free and dropped it on the ground. The heart pumped in her palm, the jagged puncture wound pouring out a stream of black ooze.
"Get ready for magic," said Jandra. She furrowed her brow and the heart began to melt in her hand. The silver slid across her fingers and down her arms. It flowed like paint under her sleeves, disappearing under her clothes. A few seconds later, it appeared at the base of her neck and flowed upward, covering her throat, creeping across her chin, tinting her lips with a sheen of silver. She closed her eyes as the metal flowed across her cheeks and nose and climbed over her brow. Within seconds, every patch of visible skin was enveloped by the liquid metal. Shay held his breath as Jandra stood silently, her eyes closed, a look of intense concentration on her silvery face.
When she opened her eyes, they were no longer hazel, but were, instead, an intense jade green.
Lizard dug his claws deep into Shay's calves. "Good boss?" he whispered.
"Jandra?" Shay stepped closer, to make certain his eyes weren't playing tricks. "Are you okay?"
Jandra grinned. She stepped toward Shay and draped her arm across his shoulder. She pulled his face to hers and pressed their lips together. Her lips were cool, much smoother than flesh, yet still soft. Her tongue slipped between his teeth. It, too, was cold and slick coated with silver.
Jandra made a purring noise as she ran her hands along his naked back. She grabbed his butt in a fashion he found unnerving, despite their previous intimacies. He stood still as a statue, not even breathing, as she groped him.
Her tongue stopped moving in his mouth. She pulled her head back, studying his face. She grinned again. She snickered and stepped away, giggling harder.
"What's funny?" Shay asked.
Jandra laughed wildly, clutching her belly as silver tears ran down her cheeks. Her laughing turned harsh, almost braying. Lizard's claws sank deeper into Shay's legs.
"Is it something I did?" Shay asked.
"She slept with you?" Jandra said, between gasps for air.
Shay scowled.
Jandra straightened up. She wiped the tears from her cheeks, and then motioned with her hands along her body. "I mean, look at me! I'm hot! Why am I wasting time with some skinny, freckle-faced slave boy? Any man in the kingdom would kill to touch me. Half the women too, probably."
Shay frowned.
"Nothing personal. I kissed you because, hey, you were convenient, and it was a nice way to celebrate the moment. Alas, I've outgrown you. I'm going to be more upscale in my partners from now on."
"Jandra?" Shay whispered.
The woman shook her head. "Guess again."
Jasmine Robertson, goddess, hacker, geek, had always lived on the razor edge of risk. She'd topped the FBI's most wanted list when she was nineteen and had taken a paid tour of the White House to celebrate. She'd worked as an intern for Senator Coe the summer her Earth Liberation Army set off the bomb that toppled the Washington Monument. When she'd finally had to get out of town due to the tightening net, every member of the Senate woke up to a zero balance in their bank accounts and she'd been, on paper at least, the eighth richest woman in the world. Not that she ever cared about money. Money was only useful if you were the type of loser who actually bothered to pay for stuff.
Yet, despite her rebellious, devil-may-care nature, Jazz had always possessed one cautious, even conservative, trait: she never failed to back up her data.
Jazz stretched her new back. If felt as if Jandra had been sleeping on rocks, which was probably the case. Jandra's body was also scuffed and scraped and bruised in a variety of places, including some difficult to reach spots that hinted of interesting stories. She felt curiously… bubbly. Hormonal, even.
"Yowza!" she said. "I'm seventeen again!"
Across the pit, the lanky red-headed guy gawked at her. There was something trembling under the dirty long-johns that hung around his waist like a backwards apron. Either there was a frightened dragon hiding between his legs, or he was really unhappy to see her.
"Hmmm," she said, searching Jandra's memories. "You're Shay? Runaway slave. Would-be librarian. How pathetically noble."