Will went quiet, then started shaking his head. "I won't let Matt go in there by himself."

"It's no use, Cruessan," Ramirez said. "We're at the endgame. It was always going to be Archer. We knew that, ever since Africa. It's time, that's all." He knelt heavily next to Jorge. "I defer to the Sentinel."

I swallowed hard, but I knew-I had to go alone. The Master had told me as much. I'd have to face the darkness by myself.

Not alone.

In answer to Tink, four other voices whispered, never alone, never alone, for we are with you.

Jorge nodded. "We are with you."

He laid his knife down at the edge of the gateway, and pushed it toward me. Energy crackled when it met the barrier, but the knife came through. Ramirez pushed his through. Aunt Julie knelt, giving me a stern nod, and sent her knife across as well.

That left Will, who was still standing. "Matt, I can't."

I knew what he was saying. And he really couldn't. The thought of giving up his knife so I could take it and go off to die wasn't in his DNA.

I held out a hand. "I have to go on-there isn't a choice. What I need from you now is a promise." My throat tightened up. "If I don't make it out, I need you to look after my mom, okay? If I fail, if I can't save Mamie, she'll lose all three of us. I want you to be there for her. Can you do that?"

"Yes." His response was barely a whisper. "I'll take care of her." Will's eyes filled with tears. "But if you don't come back, I'll hunt down your ghost and kick its a.s.s. Understand?"

"Yeah, man, I understand. Ghostly-a.s.s-kicking," I said, forcing a smile. "I'll see you on the other side, okay?"

Drawing in a jerky breath, Will fell to one knee by Ramirez, who clapped him on the back. He laid his knife down, and pushed it through.

I stared at the four knives on the ground at my feet, each one different, but all the same. Figuring out how to carry them all wasn't easy. I held mine in my right hand and Will's in my left, since I had combat experience with those two. The others I shoved through my belt or sheathed in Tink's thigh-pocket.

Ready, I turned my back on the other wielders and went to find the Shadow Man.

Chapter Thirty-Eight.

The hallway was pitch dark, as I knew it had to be. The only light came from my blade's faint blue glow. The stone walls were rough and the floor was uneven, and I tripped or whacked my arms more than once. As I fumbled my way forward, Tink fed me a quiet stream of encouragement, echoed four times over by male voices-two familiar, two foreign. If anything, it made me more anxious.

The hall wound around, doubling back on itself in a few places, before ending at a doorway. Inside was a large, square room with a vaulted ceiling so far overhead, I couldn't see it. I couldn't see how far back the room went, either; shadows swallowed all of it up.

Worse, the windows we'd seen from outside lined the wall to my left but they were as dark as the ceiling and the back walls. I wondered, though, if they were like a two-way mirror. Could my team see inside? G.o.d, I hoped not.

A chuckle that set my teeth on edge floated out of the darkness. "So, you came after all."

"Where's my sister?" I asked, not in the mood for games.

"Close."

Chains rattled at the back of the room. "I'm here, Matt."

She sounded so tired. Weak, too. I closed my eyes. "And you're coming home with me."

"Only if you can take her." A smudged form slowly broke away from the deep pitch and came into the faint light my knife made. A powerfully built man, made of darkness and blurred around the edges like his master, stood before me. His face was nearly featureless, except for indentations for a mouth, eyes and nose, but his muscles were distinct. He held the curved spear I'd seen in both cave drawings and his master's hand.

"Like it?" the Shadow Man asked, holding out the spear. "Forged to more than match your blades, I a.s.sure you."

I didn't doubt it. Ann's access to Jorge when he created the knives meant the Dark Master knew exactly how they'd been made. "Let's put that to the test."

The Shadow Man swung the spear back and forth like a pendulum. "Want to tell your sister goodbye first?"

"Want to tell your master goodbye first?" I asked, a bitter taste filling my mouth. I realized it was fear.

Steady, Tink whispered.

Steady, steady, steady, steady, the others answered.

I shook out my arms, letting Tink's strength feed mine. I'd killed countless monsters. I'd fought primes to strike down each point of the star. This was just another boss battle.

The outcome of which decided the fate of the world.

Tightening my grip on the knives in my hands, I made a "come here" gesture at the Shadow Man. Posturing to be sure, but he didn't know that.

He laughed and shook his head.

Stalemate.

While I was contemplating the first move to make, he struck. Not expecting it, I barely got my knife up in time to block the blow. The crash of the spear against my blade sent a shock wave down my arm. Jolted out of my fear, I tried to undercut him with Will's knife, but he knocked my wrist aside before I so much as scratched him.

He shoved me away hard. I tipped over and hit the stone floor flat on my back. Something vital popped and my left shoulder screamed in agony. He rushed me and I rolled, wincing as sparks flew from the rock right next to my head when his spear struck.

I crawled to my feet and circled around. My shoulder was hurt pretty badly; I wasn't going to be able to use that arm much longer. Maybe if I could get away from him for a second, I could cut through Mamie's chains so she could run. If my destiny was to be the ultimate distraction, then so be it, as long as my sister got away to fulfill her own.

The Shadow Man saw through my plan. He swung his spear at my legs, forcing me to jump over it. I backed away, heading for the archway. I didn't know what I was planning to do-panic made for ugly decisions-and found out real quick that the barrier keeping my team out was also there to keep me in. I bounced off the opening and barely had time to duck a blow aimed at my neck.

Tink was feeding me everything she had, plus energy from the other spirits, but I still couldn't keep up with this thing. Every strike I made, he countered, while I had all I could handle staying out of his reach.

He was too strong for me, and he knew I was tiring.

The monster backed me into a corner of the room and sliced my left arm, widening my wound from earlier. Will's knife fell out of my hand and skidded across the floor. I tried to reach for Julie's, but I couldn't make a fist. I ducked under my enemy's arm to get clear, and he slashed my back, sending me tumbling to the opposite wall. Trying to ignore the pain, I sheathed my knife, drew Ramirez's and threw it at his head.

The Shadow Man caught it. He caught the knife-by the blade.

Laughing, he flipped it over and flung it back at me. It struck my collarbone. It cut me, but by some magic of the blade, it didn't go straight through my flesh. Rather, it bounced off the bone and clattered against the rocks.

Mamie moaned in the dark, and that sound hurt worse than any injury. She knew I was losing. So did I.

I wouldn't just roll over and play dead, though. I had three knives left. I'd keep mine for last, so I reached for Julie's.

He knocked it out of my hands easily before I even had a good grip on it.

I skittered away and grabbed Jorge's knife. It pulsed with power and I countered a rain of blows from the Shadow's dark spear, even managing to scratch his arm. Dancing in close, I smeared my blood on the cut, then jumped clear.

The Shadow Man looked down at his arm, the up at me with this "aren't you stupid" expression. He let out a disappointed sigh. "That won't work on me. See, I was forged and fed with your blood." He glanced into the darkness that held my sister captive and laughed. "Not a willing donor, but from what I hear, your brother won't be needing it back."

My heart sank; the minion with blood on its claws had taken some back to its master. No wonder the Shadow was so strong-he'd been fed by Archer blood. Brent's blood.

He swung again, knocking Jorge's knife free. My right hand was bruised to h.e.l.l by now and I had no power to stop it. Then his blade swiped a clean cut across my abdomen. Not deep. None of his cuts were deep, just enough to cause a good amount of pain. In a way, I thought he was toying with me. Keeping me alive as long as possible to see how much I could endure before I stopped being good entertainment.

The Shadow Man paced back and forth like a caged beast, slowly swinging that deadly curved spear. Panting, I gathered myself for one last attempt, holding the only knife I had left.

"Tink," I gasped, "Make it a good one."

Steadying my weakened limbs, I lunged, trying to get inside of the Shadow's long reach. The spear's blade whistled past my ribs and I danced out of its way. He swung again, and this time I wasn't fast enough.

A fresh slash mark, deeper than the others, opened up across my chest. Shaking, I held up my knife, while Mamie sobbed, crying for me.

For me, not herself. Was that what my nightmares meant all along? Had she screamed my name in those dreams not because she was in pain, but because I was?

Chuckling, the Shadow picked up Jorge's knife and threw it. I was so tired and my reaction time was so slow-I saw it coming, but the blade drove itself through my shoulder, pinning me to the rock wall before I could try to block it.

It seemed that the knives could and would hurt me now. Their magic for keeping me safe was forfeit. Like my life.

Gritting my teeth, I pulled the knife free, and cried out with the pain of it. The tip had broken off, probably lodged in my shoulder blade. Barely able to hold myself up, I dropped Jorge's knife and staggered forward again. I wouldn't die on my knees. This had to be for something. If I could gather enough strength to free Mamie ...

The Shadow Man sighed, like I was trying his patience. He swept up Ramirez's knife and flung it. This time, it wasn't the blade that hit me, but the handle. It struck me with the force of a jackhammer, cracking a couple of ribs. I fell against the wall, unable to move and my knife clattered to the floor.

Slowly, like he had all day, he picked up the other two knives and stalked over. Aunt Julie's went into my right arm, at the bicep, and struck bone. I was in so much pain now, I couldn't even scream.

For some reason when he tried to stab me with Will's knife, though, he couldn't force it toward me. There was still some magic in this blade, and like Will, it was sworn to protect me.

With a frustrated growl, the Shadow flipped the knife over and swung the handle hard at my thigh.

Bone splintered. Now I screamed.

Finally, he picked up my knife, turning it over in his hand like he was weighing it. After a grunt of appreciation, he held my right arm still and stabbed my knife through my hand, catching bone, tendon and muscle. Tink wailed in my head, like the very act hurt her as much as it hurt me.

He paced away and I lay broken on the ground, bits of metal from the knives embedded in body, and slashes in my gut, my chest, my back. Outside, men shouted, trying to find a way in to help. From the panic in my uncle's voice, they could see me.

I really wished those windows weren't here. n.o.body should have to watch this. An epic beating and an even more epic failure. I pulled my knife out of my hand, barely able to stay conscious, and let it drop on the floor beside me.

"It's over," I whispered, too hurt to feel much beyond the pain, but underneath it, I was heartsick.

No, Tink murmured. Not yet.

"The knives failed. I failed," I whispered. "I couldn't even free Mamie."

G.o.d, talking hurt. I could hardly draw breath. Tears welled up in my eyes as I thought about Brent. Mom would lose two sons and Mamie, too. The heartbreaking thing was that she'd know it before the end came. The Master would make sure of that. He'd make them all suffer for my failure.

The Shadow Man chuckled. He didn't attack me, though. Just paced back and forth, like he was waiting for something as my blood ran on the floor. "Why doesn't ... he finish it?"

He's waiting for something rather important.

"For what?" I groaned and rolled onto my side. The pain was beyond anything I'd ever experienced. Broken ribs stabbed me. My left leg throbbed and blood foamed in my mouth. After all this time, I knew the difference between injuries you could fix, and those you couldn't. "To watch me die and gloat?"

No. He made a mistake and has to ensure it isn't the end of the war for him and his master.

"Mistake?"

A huge mistake-breaking you in such a way that joined us, so we can be remade. Now, if you please, get up and finish the job.

Finish the job? I tried to sit, and coughed up blood. "But, Tink ... I'm-"

You aren't dying. Our dark brother was never one to listen. He failed to understand the warning, and now, what was broken has been REMADE!

The last word roared aloud like a peal of thunder, echoing off the rock so that it was a thousand voices telling me to do what I came to do. The cries outside silenced and the Shadow Man paused in his pacing.

Mamie let out a wild shout. "It's time, Matt!"

That's when the power hit me. Life, warmth, electricity, who knew. Molten iron flowing in my veins. Light streaming along my skin, like I was a circuit board for the power of the spirits. A blinding glow from the universe concentrated in the metal I'd been imbued with. Pain beyond death seared my body-the pain of birth, of creation. Agony. Muscles coming together. Bones reknitting. Skin fusing. The broken off pieces of the blades oozing, melted, from my limbs. The metal sliding together on the stone floor. As I was remade, so were the blades.

Into a sword.

A burst of energy jolted me, so much so that I screamed. Worse than any spin-up during an eclipse, I felt like there were five of me, being stripped down to my nerve endings and rebuilt from the ground up. Then the pain was gone, leaving nothing but a feeling of strength and perfection. I looked down at my body. Not one scar or scratch, not even a bruise; my skin was new. I was remade and whole, glowing in the dark as if the light of a thousand stars circulated in my blood. I ripped off my shredded T-shirt, watching the stab wound across my chest heal into something else before my eyes. A silver pentagram, matching the one on my wrist, carved itself into the flesh above my heart.

The warrior is born of us.

Five voices in my head. Speaking as one, in perfect unison, for the first time.

"What happened?" I whispered.

We, who were broken, are rejoined by your blood. Finally.

The last answer clicked into place. They had waited all the ages of the universe for our blood-Archer blood-to be strong enough. For this.

The spirits sang with power and demanded victory. My heart sang with them, because I was part of them. The metal from the blades was inside me, had melted into my body even as it flowed out. I didn't just have a sword.

I was a sword.

Standing took no effort. Gravity had little hold on me in this place. I gripped the handle of the sword and laughed when its familiar shape melded to my hand. The white bone handle from my knife was its hilt. The handle vibrated, and the sound rang around the cave. The sword's blade flashed a brilliant blue.

Archer blue.

As it had always been.

Voices cried battle in my head, coming together in a harmony of vengeance and one voice spoke louder than the others: Tink, The Mistress of Light Herself. The foil to her brother, the Dark One. The power who had rallied her troops to fight back since the moment time began. Who had been losing the fight a millennia at a time, until her proxy-and that proxy's guardian-had been born.