Free Betrayal by Lee Nichols Page B

sloppy.
    I had a long day, okay?
    I’m sure Neos will wait until you’re fully rested to —
    He shoved me across the parquet floor, then kicked my ankle with the edge of his boot. I grunted and stumbled—then dropped under his flashing sword and sliced for his knee. His blade barely caught mine, and his eyebrow lifted fractionally again. Then he pushed me down with his knee and I rolled backward and sprang to my feet just in time to block another blow.
    We sparred for an hour, back and forth across the floor, until my arms ached and my breath came in gasps. It was so much better than fencing class. I could grip the sword how I wanted, forget the rules, and practice with someone who actually knew what they were doing. Until I was exhausted.
    Enough, enough , I said. Stop .
    He sheathed his sword and stared at me, his aristocratic face full of disapproval. I’d once checked the museum’s records for his death notice: 1792 at the age of forty-three. His wife had died during the birth of their second child, and he’d never married the other Emma. I guess that was enough to keep anyone grumpy in the afterlife.
    What? I said, breathing heavily. I’m having a bad day and I’m tired.
    This is nothing , he said. I’m not trying to kill you. Not like Neos and his wraiths. You have to be prepared, Emma. I want you to live.
    Unlike his Emma, the first Emma of Echo Point, who’d tried to take her own life to save his. He’d killed her, instead, because if a ghostkeeper kills herself, she doesn’t die, but wanders the Beyond forever, her sanity slowly crumbling through eternity. That’s what happened to Neos.
    There was another Emma , I said. Before yours. She’s woven into a tapestry at the Knell.
    I’m not surprised.
    Why not? I was.
    I suspect that you are … not reborn, precisely. I think that a ghostkeeper of exceptional ability — and your face — arrives at the great turning points. Like right now, fighting for control of the Beyond.
    I flopped onto the piano bench. But no pressure, right?
    A great deal of pressure , he said, ignoring my sarcasm. And you’re losing focus. You’re better than that.
    I’m tired. And now Bennett’s gone … I bit my lip, trying not to cry. Do you think there was another Bennett, too? Before you? Did the Emma in the tapestry love another one of you? Were they doomed, as well?
    He moved to lay a hand on mine, then stopped, knowing he’d burn me. You have to put that aside, Emma. Neos grows more powerful every day. You must learn to protect yourself.
    I sighed. He was right. I stood and held my sword at the ready. Yeah, my aunt told me I need a weapon to focus my powers. I’m not sure how I’m going to get around with a sword, but it’s the only thing I’ve got.
    To focus? he said. What do you mean?
    So I told him the whole story about Rachel and the wraiths, plinking absently at the piano as he paced and listened.
    When I finished, he shook his head. You’re quick and agile, but you don’t have the build for swordfighting. You’re too small. A man will overpower you every time.
    I wanted to argue. To sit him down and make him watch old episodes of Xena . But I wasn’t exactly a warrior princess, and he was right, I hadn’t been able to overpower Neos, because he was too strong in Coby’s body.
    The Rake put his boot on the bench beside me and reached inside for a hidden knife. What you need is a dagger . It’ll allow you to move close and fast, strengths not available to wraiths or Neos.
    I reached for his knife, but he pulled it away. Not just any dagger — you need her dagger .
    Emma’s? Where is it?
    He hesitated, and his eyes grew distant. The men who wanted to kill Emma hid her dagger in an unconsecrated cemetery, a mass grave for criminals and heathens.
    So I need to … dig it up? Gross.
    That’s not the problem. The dagger is bait for a trap.