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They looked at me. "Meredith, we must stop it here."
"No," I said. "No, we must keep Maeve Reed alive. That's what we talked about. No one talked about killing the Nameless. I mean, it can't die, can it?"
They looked at each other again. Rhys joined us. "No, it can't die."
"Is it real?" Lucy asked.
He looked at her. "What do you mean?"
"Is it solid enough to be hurt by our weapons?"
He nodded. "Oh, yes, it's real enough for that. Once it's stripped of the magic that keeps it safe."
"We must strip that magic away," Doyle said.
"How?" I asked, and my stomach was tight at the idea of what it might take.
"It must be wounded," Frost said.
I looked at his arrogant face and knew that he was hiding something from me. I grabbed his arm. "How can you wound it?"
His eyes softened as he looked down at me; the grey went from the color of storm clouds to sky just after the rain when the sun is about to break through. I watched the color swirl like clouds itself across his eyes.
"A weapon of power would be able to wound it, if the warrior were skilled enough."
I held on to his arm tighter. "What do you mean, skilled enough?"
"Skilled enough not to get killed doing it," Rhys said.
Both Frost and Doyle gave him unfriendly looks. "Look, we don't have time to play around here. One of us with a weapon of power and enough skill to do it has to draw blood," Rhys said.
I kept my grip on Frost's arm but looked at Doyle. "Who's on the list of skilled enough?"
"Now that's just insulting," Rhys said. "Doyle and Frost aren't the only people standing here."
They gave him another unfriendly look.
"I was never the queen's favorite guard, but once I was favored in battle."
Galen said, "I'm like Merry. I came along after all the old times. I've got good blades, but none of them are weapons of power."
"Because we lost the knack of making such things," Frost said.
"We have become more flesh and less pure spirit with every casting. It has allowed us to survive, even to thrive, but it has not been without cost."
I slid in against Frost's body and found his sword, Winter Kiss, in our way. How apt. I looked at the other men. Frost was the only one in a tunic. Everyone else was wearing street clothes, T-shirts, jeans, boots, except for Kitto, who had thrown a shirt on over his shorts. The clothes were wrong, but the weapons were right.
Frost had a second sword strapped to his back, a sword almost longer than I was tall. I knew the tunic covered more blades. He always carried some blade somewhere on him, unless the Queen had forbidden it.
Doyle had kept his gun in its shoulder holster, but he'd added a sword at his hip and wrist sheaths on both arms. The knives glinted silver against his dark skin, but the sword was as black as he was. The blade was iron, not steel. I'd never known what the black handle was made of; it was metal, but what kind of metal I did not know. The sword was called Black Madness, Bainidhe Dub. If anyone other than Doyle tried to wield it, they would be struck permanently mad. The daggers on his wrists were twins, formed together at one making. These legendary blades were thought to hit any target once thrown. Their nicknames at court had been Snick and Snack. I knew they had true names, but I'd never heard them referred to as anything else.
Galen had a sword belted at his side, and it was a good sword but not magical, not in the way of the great weapons. He had a dagger on the other side of his belt to balance the sword. He'd added a shoulder holster and gun over his button-down shirt, and a second gun tucked in the small of his back.
I had put a belt around the middle of the sundress and threaded a side holster through it to hold my own gun. It ruined the line of the dress, but if things went really wrong, I'd rather survive looking a little silly than die looking perfect. I had two folding knives in thigh sheaths under the dress, and a smaller gun in an ankle holster. I'd been deemed unworthy even of a nonmagical blade by both courts.
Rhys had his sword on his back, the one he'd used of old, Uamhas, Dread Death. He had his axe belted at his side, because with only one eye his depth perception just wasn't up to a sword. He had daggers on him, but I wasn't sure I'd want to be standing to the side of whatever he was throwing at. When you're missing an eye, there's only so much you can compensate for.
Nicca had a sword that was almost identical to Galen's, standard knight ware, beautiful, deadly, but not powerful. Nicca had two guns on either side of his shoulder holster. I had reason to know that he used either hand equally well. He had added a third gun to the small of his back, and a dagger on the opposite side from his sword. Maybe it was standard issue, too, like the sword.
Kitto didn't know enough about guns to be trusted not to shoot his foot off, but he had a short sword belted across the back of his Wile E. Coyote T-shirt.
Sage had a tiny sword that gleamed bright silver in the sunlight. He would not give us the name of it. "To know the name of something is to have power over it," he said.
There was a rumbling sound, and the ground seemed to swell up as a portion of Maeve's wall fell inward. The Nameless had cheated. It hadn't gotten past her wards; it had destroyed what she attached them to.
The shimmering thing moved through the hole while a few shots rang out, and officers in charge yelled, "Don't shoot, don't shoot!"
Doyle was striding forward. "I will use the daggers. They must strike true, as is their nature."
"Can you get close enough and still stay out of reach?" Frost asked.
Doyle gave a small glance back. "I think so." He kept walking.
Frost moved me away from him, his hands gentle on my arms. "I must go with him. If he falls, I must be there."
"Kiss me first," I said.
He shook his head. "If I touch your lips, I will never leave your side." He kissed my forehead quickly, then jogged after Doyle.
Rhys swept me up into his arms while I was still too surprised to react. He kissed me, thoroughly and completely, and ended up wearing most of my red lipstick on his lips. He sat me back on my feet a little breathless.
"You can't steal my courage with a kiss, Merry. You don't love me enough for that." He ran after the other two before I could think of anything to say.
The police rounded up an armored group of S.W.A.T. officers to back up the men; then they moved forward, through the hole in the wall, and vanished from sight.
Strangely, the Nameless had vanished, as well, as if once inside the wall the shimmer was lost, even though it should have towered above it.
"What if we go in the back and get Maeve out?" Galen said into the heavy silence.
We all looked at him.
"We can't fight the Nameless, but we might be able to do that."
Lucy slapped her forehead. "Dumb. Really dumb, we should have evacuated Ms. Reed before this."
"It will follow her," I said. "Unless you can get a helicopter in here, we won't be able to get her away fast enough."
Lucy seemed to think about that for a moment. "I might be able to swing it. The Reeds have a lot of clout in this town."
"Do it, if you can," I said.
"In the meantime give us a few men and let us go in the back," Galen said.
"I'm going with you," I said.
He shook his head, looking so serious. "No, Merry, you're not."
"Yes, Galen, I am. I was raised to know that a leader never asks of her people what she isn't willing to do herself."
"Your father was a good man ... but you're mortal, Merry. The rest of us aren't."
"The police are, all of them, and they're still here."
He shook his head. "No."
We argued, but in the end I got my way because all the men that could have argued me down were inside the broken wall facing off against the thing we'd come to destroy.