By the Sword

    Had she dreamed it all?

    She went to her closet and pulled out a robe. She'd totally never worn one before she came here. After all, she'd been able to walk around her house in pretty much any state of undress she pleased. But this wasn't her house. So when she didn't feel like getting dressed—like now—she threw on one of these things.

    She stepped out into the hall. The marble floor was cold on her feet as she padded to the kitchen hoping to find some coffee. But the kitchen was empty, just like the coffeepot. She'd make some herself if she knew where anything was, but this was Gilda's domain and she ruled it like a jealous queen.

    Dawn realized she needed more than coffee. She was starving. She'd have to track down Gilda and have her whip up some breakfast. Or lunch. Or whatever.

    She found her in the hall carrying an armful of men's clothing. They looked like…

    "Are those Henry's?"

    Gilda didn't look at her. "Yes."

    "Then Mister Osala really did fire him?"

    Gilda said nothing, just kept on moving toward the foyer. Dawn followed in a daze. Then it was true… all true… the nightmare had been real… and Henry had been fired because of her.

    "I'm sorry about what happened. I—"

    Gilda's cold look cut her off as she stopped and turned. "You should be ashamed. He was only trying to make you happy, and you betrayed him."

    The truth of her words struck like a slap in the face. Yes, she'd totally betrayed him.

    "But don't you see? I didn't want to stay here. I wanted to get away and none of you would let me."

    "We are here to protect you."

    "I know that, and after all that happened, I know this is the safest place to be. But I didn't see it that way then. I didn't mean to cause any trouble."

    The ice remained in her tone. "Well, you did."

    She turned and continued toward the foyer where she laid the pile by the door.

    "Is Henry coming to pick them up?"

    She wanted to tell him how sorry she was, but didn't know if she could face him.

    Another cold look from Gilda. "Henry is never coming back."

    "Then why are you putting his clothes out?"

    "They are to be burned."

    "Burned?" She didn't get it. "But he was only fired. You talk about him like he's dead."

    Gilda turned away and headed in the direction of the kitchen.

    "I will make you some lunch."

    But Dawn was no longer hungry. She stared at that forlorn pile of clothing, thinking it couldn't be… it totally couldn't be.

    Henry was out there in the city, totally alive and looking for another job. He had to be…

    But what she'd seen in Gilda's eyes just before she'd turned away said otherwise.

    She felt her blood turning to ice.

    Dead? But that could only mean that Mr. Osala had…

    What have I done? Who are these people? What have I gotten myself into?

    Jack entered his apartment with the katana.

    The Lady's words had haunted him.

    It might now be a weapon only for good, or only for evil. Or, like any blade, it might cut either way, depending on who wields it. But it will be used for something momentous.

    She'd wanted him to dump it in the ocean but had not offered a clear reason why.

    … something momentous…

    Momentous good or momentous evil?

    If the latter, then yeah, dump it in the Mariana Trench, where no one, not even Rasalom, could reach it.

    But if at some crucial moment in the coming showdown it could tip the scale against the Otherness, Jack didn't want it under seven miles of ocean.

    … it might cut either way, depending on who wields it…

    O'Day had killed Gerrish with it, and Jack guessed that would be considered an ill use of the weapon. But Glaeken had used it defensively, and nonlethally at that.

    Yeah… so it depended on who wielded it.

    He'd given it a lot of thought, leaning this way and that. The tipping point had come when he remembered what Veilleur had said about Rasalom being at the Kakureta Kao temple. If so, he could have gone after Dawn or the katana. The fact that he'd chosen Dawn told Jack that the katana wasn't all that important to him.

    Jack decided to keep it, figuring he could dispose of it at any time if he changed his mind. But if he ditched it now, there was no going back.

    It wouldn't fit in the false back of the secretary with the rest of his goodies, so he found a spot on the top shelf of one of his closets. It was too long to lie flat so he leaned it at an angle.

    He stared at it for a moment, wondering if he was doing the right thing.

    Don't make me regret this, he thought, then shut the closet door.

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