“Vanitas. Your sword. Yes. And there’s a simple explanation for their appearance. It’s their common origin. All of them are implements of the Eldest, and of their servitors.”
I sat stock-still. I don’t know why I even thought to be surprised by the revelation. I’d always noted the similarities between Thea’s sacrificial blade and Vanitas. I suppose I just never wanted to admit it. But then it hit me.
“There must be a reason that Vanitas attuned with me. When I went out to retrieve him for the Lorica, even Herald said that they had no records of the sword being sentient.”
“That’s because these tools only truly respond to those who are tied to the Eldest. And what Thea did when she stabbed you, that wasn’t a lie. She implanted something within your heart, something that links you to these artifacts.”
“So that’s what I am now? One of their servants?”
Carver shook his head. “No. But it does mean that you are now something other than human. I struggle to explain it. This is unprecedented. I take that this is no longer news to you, but all that I’ve studied suggests that you are now a hybrid.”
Just like Amaterasu said, when she mentioned that I was tied to the Eldest. Just like how Hecate described me. “An abomination.”
“Well, not in those terms, not quite. Though your spellcasting abilities do leave something to be desired. Quite abominable.”
“Be serious.”
Carver sighed. “An unfortunate joke, I admit. I apologize. The best you can do now is to listen to yourself, to control the urges within you. I sense that things have changed.”
So he knew. When I killed Thea – or when I thought I did – I’d felt nothing but satisfaction. The realization of how much I enjoyed murdering her definitely fazed me. I was developing an appetite for violence. I had to won
der if it had something to do with what she planted in my heart. It only made me angrier.
“I think I need him back, Carver. I know it makes no sense, but having Vanitas around made me less violent. Less likely to kill things.”
It was the objectivity of it, the knowledge that something or someone else was doing the damage instead of me. I wouldn’t have to be the one snuffing out lives. In a dusty corner of my mind, I knew I could hear Hecate laughing.
“You’re above that now, surely.” Carver raised his nose and frowned. “You can rely on your abilities. They offer more than enough firepower for your purposes. And it pains me to admit it, but you aren’t the stupidest person I know. That counts for something.”
“But this isn’t about arming myself. I can hone now. I can make blades out of the Dark Room like you taught me. I can make fire. This isn’t about weapons. This is about bringing my friend back.”
He regarded me sternly, sitting so still that I thought it was the end of our conversation. Then he sighed.
“Herald told you himself. Do not keep your hopes up. I do not know what sort of enchantment allowed the blade to keep a personality, but there is no guarantee that it will return when the sword is reforged. If it even can be reforged.”
I gripped my seat harder, my chin somehow lifting even higher, like my body was trying to grow taller than Carver just to make its point.
“I have to try,” I said.
“Very well. I will research a list of entities you may consider approaching for help. Though I remind you that it isn’t often the best thing to owe so many favors to these beings.”
“I know that,” I said, managing not to stammer. “Of course I know that.”
There was the distant recollection of what Arachne would ask of me if I ever beseeched her for more help in the future. And there was, of course, the slight matter of Amaterasu hypothetically being pissed at me for breaking her mirror. Carver stared at me so fixedly that I just knew he could read all that in my mind.
“Very well. As long as you know the consequences. Surely there must be a handful of entities you can consult.” He waved his hand across his desk, the verdigris dagger disappearing where his fingers passed over it, vanishing back into nothingness.
“Last question,” I said, my mind still processing the space where the dagger sat only seconds ago. “Are there more of these tools? These weapons?”
“I would presume,” Carver said. “Though I confess that your sword is unique. I’d never seen one of its kind before. Perhaps there are others. It would do well for us to keep all that we can find.”
I drummed my fingers on his table. “For your collection, I assume?”
Carver looked at me sideways. “Not at all. For our arsenal. When it comes down to it, these objects may be the best weapons we have against the Eldest and their agents.” He stroked his beard, his gaze going distant. “Imagine if they sent their avatars.”
The very mention of the word sent tremors crawling through my skin. Avatars were representatives of earth’s entities and gods, possessing only fractions of their power. Both Hecate and Dionysus had sent their avatars to deliver messages to me in the past. I hadn’t considered it, but I should have realized that the Eldest could possibly send their own avatars to do their insane bidding.
“You mean – the Eldest can bring out their own avatars? What, to herald their coming?”