Page 67 of Fading Sun

Eventually, everything quiets around us.

“Is it dead?” Morgan asks, her voice barely above a whisper as the Yeti’s fur burns away in patches, revealing raw, red flesh underneath.

Blaze’s eyes are fixed on the Yeti, the glee inside them nearly as chilling as the monster’s final wails. “Yes,” he says. “It’s dead.”

The Yeti’s skin sizzles and pops, and none of us move as we watch. It melts away in thick streams, pooling on the ground, mixing with the snow to create a dark, sludgy mess.

The stench of burning hair and cooked meat makes my stomach churn.

But I don’t look away. Not even as its muscles disintegrate, until only bones remain.

It’s a gruesome sight. A once terrifying creature reduced to a skeletal frame.

Blaze, seemingly unaffected, saunters up to the remains and retrieves his dagger from the pile of bones, wiping it clean on the snow. “Well, that was something,” he says, holding up the dagger to inspect it.

Morgan looks around at the scorched clearing, her eyes lingering on the still-smoking trees. “Let’s get out of here before something else decides to show up,” she says.

“Wait.” Damien holds out a hand, signaling her to stop. “We’re just as likely to get attacked standing here as we are anywhere else. And before going anywhere, we need to talk about that dagger.”

“What about the dagger?” Blaze asks, instantly on edge.

“About the fact that the Yeti was inches away from getting his hands on it and being able to use an invincible blade against us.”

Blaze’s eyes narrow, defensive. “And I got it back before he could.”

The tension between them is so intense that I’m not even sure an invincible dagger could cut through it.

“This time,” Damien says. “But what about next time? A weapon that powerful shouldn’t exist. It’s asking for trouble. For the unworthy to be stronger than they have a right to be.”

Blaze’s grip on the dagger tightens. “Who are you calling unworthy?” he asks.

A glance at Morgan shows she’s just as on edge about where this is going as I am. But Damien can hold his own, so I stand back, letting him continue with what he wants to say to Blaze.

I’m also keeping my magic close to the surface, even though after using so much of it for the crystal trial and the Yeti attack, I’m feeling pretty cooked.

Although, not as cooked as that Yeti.

“I’m not calling you unworthy,” Damien says to Blaze. “I’m just saying that a weapon able to defeat anything, despite the skill of its wielder, is dangerous. Not just to you, but to all of us.”

“So, I won’t throw it at trees for fun, in case a snow monster attacks us before I can retrieve it,” Blaze says, sounding bored. “Got it.”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Damien replies.

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying you should use your quill to reverse the spell. There’s no chance of an invincible dagger getting into the wrong hands if it doesn’t exist at all.”

“Absolutely not.” Blaze steps forward, his gaze lethal. “The Crimson Quill is mine. I can use it however I want, whenever I want, and on whatever I want. Plus, I can’t reverse a spell. It’s not possible. And trust me—I’ve tried.”

There’s darkness in his tone at that last part—a warning to not ask for details about the spell he tried to reverse.

Damien steps closer, his determination unwavering. “If the spell can’t be reversed, then the dagger should be destroyed,” he says.

“Absolutely not.” Blaze lifts his dagger protectively, staring Damien down over the gleaming blade. “I created this dagger with magic inherited from my ancestors. Anyone who tries taking it from me will regret it, just like our friend over there.”

He glances at the Yeti’s scorched remains to prove his point.

Morgan moves forward, her hands raised in a way that makes it clear she wants him to calm down. “No one’s trying to take it from you,” she says, a distinct edge to her voice. “Damien’s just concerned about the potential danger it poses.”

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