whipsword from its concealed spot beneath her shirt and cracked it out. She rotated her wrist to force her weapon into the shape of a long, broad sword, and the oily black material flowed into place and solidified.
The younger boy, the freckled one, jumped at her, then away as she slashed her weapon at his face. Neither boy showed any surprise at the appearance of her whipsword.
“What?” Shinobu mumbled, rubbing at the spot on his hand where his IV tube had been sharply tugged when the stand went down.
The smaller boy pulled out a weapon, and Quin saw with shock, a moment too late, that he had his own whipsword. She raised her sword to block him but entirely missed the child’s attack. Somehow the boy’s sword slid right by her own. She reeled back, her arm cut just beneath the elbow.
“Ha ha,” the boy said, tripping backward to get away as Quin came at him again. The older one lurched unsteadily to his feet.
They had whipswords—were they Seekers? Quin had to guess not: Their fighting style was bold but very wild. And they were so dirty and disheveled. Yet what would she know, really, of other Seekers? Her father had hidden their very existence.
Whoever these boys were, their skills were unexpectedly good. In a quick assessment, Quin decided they weren’t better than she was; she would best both of them eventually. But Shinobu lay unguarded on the hospital bed, where they could injure him if they took an interest. She had to end this fight quickly.
“Help!” she called as she moved toward the door. “Help!”
Shinobu was up on one elbow, blinking fiercely, trying to understand what was happening. Quin willed the boys not to notice him.
Both attackers came for her as she neared the door. When they lunged simultaneously, she saw why their whipswords had slid by her before—the boys’ weapons were half the usual length. Even slender and fully extended, as they were now, their swords were no longer than Quin’s forearm, and the tips were not as sharp as they should have been. They were like whipswords that had been inelegantly cut in half.
“So together you have one whipsword?” she asked, swinging wide and fast to block both of them. “Are they two halves of the same sword? Are you each half a person as well?” She was continuing to speak loudly, as though she were a fighter who liked to bait her opponents, when in truth she was trying to rouse Shinobu and also the hospital staff on the other side of the door, and to keep the boys’ eyes focused on her. “If you’re two halves of the same person, couldn’t at least one of you learn how to wash?” Their odor had filled the room.
“Least we’re not a thieving girl,” the little one said, smiling nastily and displaying his own dirty teeth, which, like the older boy’s, appeared to have been smeared with soot. “Give us the athame our master should have!”
The older boy slashed at her with vicious skill, but Quin’s larger weapon made quick work of his blows, and she sent him sprawling into his partner.
She turned for the door.
And found her father staring back at her.
Briac Kincaid was hiding in the dark alcove at the room’s entrance, barricading the closed door, his own whipsword drawn. A handful of multicolored sparks danced around his head.
Sparks.
Before she could think any of this through, Briac had cracked out his sword and raised it.
Quin wavered.
And then the two boys were on her from behind. Her hesitation had cost her an important moment—
Then a metal tray crashed into the older boy’s head, sending him staggering. Shinobu was there, his IV tube trailing off his left arm in a long tangle. He swung the tray a second time, cracking the older boy across the temple and sending him down. The smaller one struck back, and Shinobu used the tray as a shield as the half-sized whipsword clanged off it again and again. Quin could only guess at how much of the narcotic was being pumped into Shinobu’s blood with each impact.
She saw her father’s sword swing toward her, and turned to parry the blow. Briac was still blocking the door. There were muffled yells from the other side—hospital staff trying to get in.
“Stupid wife! Fiona!” he spat. “Give the athame back.”
If it was strange to find her father here, it was stranger still to hear him address her that way.
Shinobu smacked the younger boy directly across the