panting over something on the floor. It was dark, but he would know that shape anywhere, the slender back, the long, thin arms lying limp on the floor, the pale, pale skin.
Rage filled him to boiling, painting the room in a wash of angry color. Rage at Sted, at himself for letting this happen, at Nico for not running from a fight she couldn’t win. Hadn’t he taught her anything? But the sword weighed heavy in his grip, bringing him down, telling him what must be done.
Even so, Josef wasn’t the kind of man to fall on an opponent from behind with no warning.
“Sted!”
The cry echoed through the warehouse, and the enormous swordsman looked up just in time to see Josef leap, the Heart of War held high over his head. The sword felt heavy in his hands, yet Josef could swing it with ease, even more so than before. The blade answered his every movement like it was part of his hand rather than something clasped inside it, and Josef felt a rush like never before as the Heart’s triumphant cackle rolled through him.
For a moment Sted just stood there, staring, and then he started to raise his sword to defend. But this time he was too slow. Josef was already on top of him, swinging the Heart with all his rage. The black blade hit Sted in the side with the weight of a mountain. There was a great iron gong, and Sted flew backward, slamming into the front wall of the warehouse with a crash that cracked the wooden supports.
Panting from the force of the blow and keeping one eye on Sted’s slumped body, Josef limped over to Nico. He’d seen plenty of violence in his time, but she was still hard to look at. An enormous wound ran down her chest, as though Sted had been trying to gut her. Still, he told himself, this was Nico. She was about as killable as a rock wall.
Josef knelt down to check her breathing. Sure enough, he could feel it, a faint breeze on his fingers, and he let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. She was alive. He let himself savor the realization before forcing it down again, turning to face Sted’s twitching body. She was alive, and it was his job now to make sure she stayed that way.
Across the warehouse, Sted groaned and retched, coughing up a streak of bright blood. He stared at it in shock before turning his hateful glare on Josef. Keeping a hand to his side, he stood slowly, pushing himself up by painful inches.
“I’m impressed,” he gasped, spitting out another mouthful of blood as he got to his feet at last. “You broke a rib. How long has it been since someone did that? Not for years now.” He bared his bloody teeth at Josef. “You’ll pay for that.”
“If we’re paying blood for blood,” Josef said, “I think you owe us far more.”
Sted grabbed his sword again. “What does it take to kill you?” he grumbled. “This time I’ll cut off your cursed head!”
His threat turned into a scream as he began to charge. Instinctively, Josef turned to jump out of the way, but the Heart would not move. For one panicked moment, he stared at the blade. Then he quieted, and understood. Josef planted his feet firmly, in the position shield troops call Bracing the Mountain, and held the Heart in front of him, broad side out, like a shield. There, firm as bedrock, he met Sted’s charge.
The swords clashed in a scream of twisting metal and flashing sparks. Sted was snarling, his sword red as fresh blood, pushing with all his strength. The blood rage crashed into Josef, but the swordsman did not break his stance, and he did not move an inch.
Realizing his assault was useless, Sted began to swing wildly, using his superior height and reach to try and get around Josef’s iron guard. But everywhere Sted swung, the Heart was there. The great black sword and the man carrying it moved together, flicking from one position to the next with a speed unlike anything they’d shown earlier. Sted struck harder and harder, faster and faster, but Josef and the Heart met him blow for blow, each block flowing seamlessly into the next, and try as he might, Sted could not break the sword’s wall.
Finally, desperately, Sted lashed out with his entire body, throwing all his weight into his attack. This time, when