inadvertently channeling your power into that blade for a long time. It is time to take it back.”
I stared at Zeeva in astonishment. “But the power can’t be in my knife. When Ares uses it I can feel it in my stomach. When I’m fighting I feel it in my vision and my hearing and my muscles. It’s not in the knife.”
“It is true that a certain amount resides within you. But the real power? The divine power? The more human you became, the more had to pass to the blade. Every time you or Ares has accessed your power since you came here, your blade has been with you. You are the conduit. Now you need to become the source.”
I let out a long breath, the hairs on my skin standing on end with excitement as I clutched the blade in my damp hands. Every other crazy thing I’d experienced since leaving that shitty concrete box in London paled to nothing as the knife began to heat in my hands.
“Zeeva, it’s doing something,” I whispered.
“Yes. Name the blade. Accept it as a part of your soul.”
“Ischyros,” I breathed, then looked up at Zeeva, alarmed. “What is that word? How do I know it?”
I could hear the smile in the cat’s voice as she answered me. “It is the name of your weapon. It means mighty.”
Heat exploded from the flick-knife, but unlike the searing pain from the inside of the Hydra, this heat was blissful. It spread through my body like an unstoppable force, alighting every nerve ending I had. The knife began to vibrate in my hand, and as the heat moved through my chest and seemed to gather under my ribs, the knife began to shine a bright red. It was growing.
I gaped as my faithful little knife morphed in front of my eyes, transforming into a full-sized sword. I brought my other hand to the hilt, marveling at its weight, and when I drew the blade closer to look at it, the heat inside me suddenly stopped rushing around, as though it had found the place it needed to be.
I knew this sword. I knew the intricate swirling pattern etched up the center of the steel. I knew the two deep dark rubies set into each side of the gold hilt. I knew its weight in my hands as I moved it from palm to palm. I knew it and I loved it. “Ischyros,” I murmured, and strength flared in my chest.
I looked up at Zeeva. “This is fucking awesome.”
30
Bella
“Oh no,” said Ares as soon as I opened my door to him the next day. He was wearing his armor but holding his helmet under his arm, so I got the pleasure of seeing his beautiful face fall. I beamed at him, holding my sword up between us.
“Oh yes, armor-boy. I’ve got a fucking sword.”
“How did you-” he began, but I cut him off.
“Let’s just get something straight right now. I have no problem with you using my power. But we share.”
He glared at me. “I don’t even know if that is possible,” he said slowly. “And besides, just because you have a sword, doesn’t mean you can actually use your power.”
“Oh, you mean like this?” I asked cheerily, and pulled on the well of heat now burning steadily under my ribs.
Ischyros grew a foot longer, glowing red.
I wasn’t going to admit to him that Zeeva had only taught me how to do that, heal small wounds, and guard my mind against other gods’ influence. The last one was the one she said was the most important, and had made me practice the longest before I finally fell asleep.
But glowing swords were way more fun if you asked me.
Ares narrowed his eyes, and I felt a tug in my tummy. He grew a foot taller.
I scowled. I didn’t know how to add a foot to my height. In fact, I’d probably have to add four to be taller than him. But Zeeva’s warning about using magic wisely rang in my mind. I had a long time to learn more tricks. Right now, I needed to be ready to fight alongside this jackass, not against him.
“See. Easy. I use a bit, you use a bit,” I said, schooling my expression into nonchalance.
Ares shrank back down.
“You look different,” he said, then instantly looked like he regretted saying it.
“Erm, my hair is still long,” I said awkwardly. Plus I was still wearing the jeweled blue headband to keep it back