explosion, they’ll be unstable.”
 
 Amal handed me her pistol. “I think you should maybe stick to this.”
 
 We moved gingerly through the gallery. I spotted a vase from one of the
 
 shattered cases, amazingly still intact. Apparently, magical objects were
 
 rather hard to destroy.
 
 A ray of green light slammed into Jaxson’s chest and sent him flying back
 
 into the smoldering debris. Then Kahanov skittered like a spider through the
 
 top of the doorway and leapt down toward me with a pale green blade in his
 
 hand.
 
 The Soul Knife.
 
 I dodged back as the metal swiped within an inch of my throat.
 
 Before I could extend my claws, Amal flew into him and hurled him
 
 backward through the air. He slammed into the wall, and the knife clattered
 
 across the floor.
 
 I froze, torn between going for Kahanov and for the knife.
 
 He rose, hands burning with green light and blood dripping from his
 
 chest.
 
 With no time to think, I called my magic and smothered the floor with
 
 shadows. Kahanov looked about wildly for the knife, and then, with a howl
 
 of rage, he released a wall of green fire that ripped through the room.
 
 Searing pain blinded me for a second as the unnatural flames burned my
 
 exposed skin. It was all I could do to concentrate on the shadows hiding the
 
 blade. Agony took every lucid thought from me, save one—protect the knife.
 
 I rolled over in time to see Amal whip a potion bomb through the air.
 
 There was a blinding flash of light, and when my vision returned, Jaxson was
 
 hauling me to my feet, and Kahanov was gone.
 
 “Are you okay?”
 
 “Get him!” I shouted. “I’ll grab the knife!”
 
 Jaxson and Amal raced into the next room as I staggered over to where
 
 the Soul Knife still lay in the charred debris, cloaked by a veil of darkness