“So, you will help me?” I ask.
“There is a sword
,” she starts slowly, and I can’t help but roll my eyes at her.
“Don’t tell me it’s G.I?” I ask sarcastically.
“No,” she snaps at me. “Do you want to know or not?”
“Yes, sorry,” I say, abashed.
“It has its roots in legend, but it is quite real,” she says, almost as a warning for me not to roll my eyes at her again. I stay silent, to her approval.
“It is the sword of Saint George,” she says to my utmost shock.
“I beg your pardon?” I splutter. “That’s…” I was going to say “legend,” but thought better of it.
“Nope,” she says, shaking her head.
“That’s nuts!” I exclaim.
“You would think so, wouldn’t you,” she drawls and seats herself back on the sofa, where Fraser is still sitting quietly as if I wasn’t even here and he didn’t just witness a big chick fight. “However, he slayed a Dragon with it, did he not?”
“Supposedly,” I say, tapping my chin. “Really?” I ask with a hint of disbelief. “Or is this your idea of a joke.”
“Believe me, or don’t believe me, I don’t give a fuck,” Liv says. “Now, tell me what I want to know.”
“Well, where is it?” I ask. “Who has the power to wield it? Who killed your mother? Was it you? Remiel?”
“I have already given you what you asked for, now you owe me,” she answers with finality.
Well, that’s that then. I have had enough dealings with this bitch to know that I won’t be getting any more out of her. So that leaves only one thing left to do…
I coil my Faerie magick in my hand and aim the bolt of lightning at her. Her eyes widen in surprise and then in terror as she stands up.
“We had a deal,” she says.
“And I told Devon that I would kill you once I found out what I wanted to know. Who do you think I am going to stand by?” I say to her.
“You can’t kill me,” she says. “You are too goodie-two-shoes for that. You won’t risk destroying this World for your vengeance.”
“I don’t care what happens to this World,” I say. “I do care about what you did to Devon.”
“Mother?” A little boy, about six years old, runs into the library and over to Liv’s side. I quickly squash my magick and stare at him. He is the spitting image of Finn, my–our–Dragon Guardian. I grit my teeth, as I was fully prepared to kill her, but not, and I repeat, not, in front of her child. Did she plan this somehow? Call him to her with her mind? I wouldn’t put it past her to use her child to protect herself.
“Hi, baby,” she says, picking him up and cuddling him close to her.
He gives me a fearful look, and she reassures him gently. I see a side to her that I never in a million years thought I would see. She gives me a look, a look that pleads with me and even after everything she has done, it hits me.
“This isn’t over,” I say to her quietly.
“Tell him I’m sorry,” she says back just as quietly. At my sneer she adds, “I know it means less than nothing to both of you, but I mean it.”
“I won’t insult him with such a meaningless statement,” I say to her telepathically. “You get a reprieve for now. But I will be back for you. I promise you; you will pay for what you did.”
“What about my daughter?” she asks back out loud.
“The solution lies in your father’s Kingdom,” I say to her, and then add to her telepathically again, “Not that you will live long enough to see it through.” And with that I Astral out, back to England and then transport myself to the D.F.K.