Screaming, Myrmeen turned her back on Ord's dilemma. She described a wide arc with her brilliantly glowing hand, forcing several of the creatures back, then she plunged the weapon into the back of another soldier's head, this one approaching Krystin with a drawn sword. The creature convulsed as she withdrew her hand. Spinning, she realized that the monster Ord had impaled now was poised to crush his larynx with its heavy, misshapen hand. Her murderous thoughts cleared. She knew she had to help Ord, but too much distance separated them.
Krystin, closer by two yards, screamed a curse at Myrmeen and leapt at the creature's hand. She grasped the monster's wrist as she flipped in midair and yanked the hand in the other direction. There was a sharp crack as the bones in the monster's arm snapped and the sword impaling it was dragged several inches through its gut. Myrmeen ran for them and punched her fist through the wailing creature's faceplate. The beast shuddered and died quickly. Myrmeen dragged the body from Ord as another pair of creatures glanced at each other, hesitated as if evaluating their odds of survival, then ordered their comrades to retreat.
Myrmeen watched the creatures run. With considerable effort, Myrmeen forced the gauntlet's flames to recede. The fighter helped Ord to his feet and Krystin sprang at her.
"Get away from him!" Krystin screamed. "You were going to let him die!"
Krystin shoved her mother out of the way and took her place beside Ord. Myrmeen knew there was no time to argue or explain; that would have to come later. She led the others from the field of battle. They passed through several winding side streets, then came to the place the group had designated as a rendezvous in the event that they were ever attacked. Shandower and Lucius had insisted on these contingencies whenever they left the safe house. They entered the boarded-up temple, and Myrmeen nearly wept when she saw Reisz and Shandower waiting.
"Give it to me," Shandower hissed, pointing at the weapon with his remaining hand. The smell of burned flesh came to her suddenly and she realized that Reisz had made a small fire that they had used to cauterize Shandower's wound.
Myrmeen looked down and saw her flesh beginning to melt, her skin fusing with the weapon. She yanked the gauntlet from her arm, restraining a scream as small sections of her flesh were torn away. Shandower grasped the weapon and threw it to the floor.
"It's meant for the other hand," Krystin pointed out as she saw Shandower slide his hand into the glove, "It won't-"
There was an explosion of blue-white light and, when it faded, the gauntlet was snugly fit upon Shandower's remaining hand. Somehow, the weapon had reconfigured itself.
"Lucius?" Reisz asked.
"I don't know," Myrmeen said. "I pray he survived, but his injuries were great. He vanished at the battle. We couldn't search for him."
"We also can't stay here," Shandower said. "You may have been followed."
"We weren't," Ord said confidently. "I was checking the entire time."
Shandower laughed bitterly. A few backward glances and the boy felt secure. Shandower had been deprived of the magic from the apparatus for less than an hour, and in that time he had been overcome with the old, numbing fears. For a brief time he was able to see the threat of the Night Parade for what it had been all along, an unstoppable nemesis, an enemy that he could hold at bay for a time but never destroy. Now that he had the gauntlet back, he realized he had been foolish to entertain such dark, hopeless thoughts. His nose itched, and he raised his hand to scratch it.
The hand was no longer there. Grinning, Shandower set his head back and closed his eyes.
Myrmeen stared at his face and thought of the sensations that had coursed through her for the brief time that she had been empowered by the gauntlet: The magic had flowed through her, making her feel invulnerable, forcing away her fear and her doubts, helping her to focus on her single, driving goal, to destroy the Night Parade. Shandower was overcome by its power, she realized. If he had not been, he would have gone insane years ago.
Then she thought of Lucius, of the warm, caring man he had revealed himself to be. He would survive, she thought. He had to survive. Myrmeen shifted her gaze to Krystin, who held her arm where she had been wounded. Myrmeen went to the girl, pried her arm away from the gash, and realized that they were already risking infection.
"We have to clean and dress the wound," Myrmeen said.
"I'm fine," Krystin argued, looking to Ord for support. He shook his head and looked away. "Don't treat me like a child. Erin lost his arm, and he's not crying for help. I'll live, all right?"
"You'll live, both of you will, because I'm going to see that you get help," Myrmeen said.
"There's a healer I trust," Shandower said softly, "not far from here. We should see him before we leave the city. It seems we have stirred up too great a storm for even the Harpers to weather."
Suddenly, Myrmeen heard a scurrying in the shadows. She drew one of her blades and flung it in the direction of the sounds. A tiny squeal came from the temple's ruins. She walked past the overturned pews to find a dying rat in the corner. Shoving her boot against its quivering body, Myrmeen withdrew her knife.
Had she looked up, she would have seen a familiar pair of red eyes that she had glimpsed many times in nightmares. "Rats," Myrmeen said. "They're everywhere." The figure clinging to the ceiling moved carefully, making no sound as it crawled out through the broken skylight and vanished into the cold, clean air of twilight.
Lord Sixx had been watching the battle from a distance. All had not gone according to plan, but he had made the best of a steadily deteriorating situation. The humans knew they had been found out, and so their attacks against his people's lairs would end. This might have been enough to solidify his standing with his subjects, but the perpetrators had survived, and only their blood would answer the need he shared with his people for retribution.
There were easier ways to deal with them, of course, than the ones he had chosen so far. With the mage dead, they would be much more susceptible to his spies. All he had to do was find them in one place and have Imperator Zeal unleash his power upon them, as he had the archers during the battle.
Sixx grinned. Zeal had killed a half dozen of his own kind to protect his lover's life. He had made his personal allegiance very clear. If Lord Sixx had not used his own power to put Zeal down, he would have taken out the false members of the local militia, too. According to the stories Sixx had overheard concerning the battle this day, if Zeal had been a rival for his power, unwittingly or not, he had just lost his standing.
There were more pressing concerns for him to think about. He knew the Slayer's identity. His name was Erin Shandower, and many had seen his face. The man had been grievously injured. It was more than likely that he would retreat to the where he had secreted the apparatus. Sixx had driven the man to ground and would follow him as he went. Sixx found this course of action preferable to a direct confrontation with the man who had felt the energies of the apparatus circulating within his own body as if it were his life's blood.
Following would be difficult. The Night Parade would be expected. He felt like a fool for having allowed Alden to reveal himself. An ally within their ranks would prove invaluable just now.
Sixx thought of the girl. He remembered the distant manner in which she had treated the Lhal woman and the curse the girl had hurled at Myrmeen when the woman had not tried to save her Harper friend. She obviously was falling in love with the boy, though she had not yet admitted that to herself. The girl had proved herself in battle, and, more importantly, she had proved herself to be human. Alden had been an outsider. They would not expect betrayal from one of their own.