She had just one moment to look up and watch the shadow of Sted raise his blade before the jagged sword tore into her. Pain exploded through her body, and Nico felt herself flying, carried by the force of the blow. She landed on her back, skidding across the floor until, finally, she hit a crate and lay still. The pain was blinding, overwhelming, and it was all she could do to keep breathing in tiny wheezing gasps. The world was getting darker, colder, and further away.
She gasped, choking on her blood. But even as she desperately fought for breath, the voice spoke in her ear.
It doesn’t have to end like this, it whispered, sweet and soft. All you have to do is surrender. Give yourself over to me, and I will save you. You will have everything you lost and more. You’ll never be weak or alone again.
Nico closed her eyes and focused on her breathing.
The thing in Nico’s mind gave a long, deep sigh as Sted’s fingers wrapped around her neck. A failure to the end. This is twice now you’ve failed me. And to think, you used to be the strongest demon in the world.
With one final, desperate shove, Nico pushed the voice away. When her eyes met Sted’s, they were dark and human again.
“It’s over,” he hissed.
Nico set her jaw and pinned her hands at her side so her demon couldn’t try eating him again. This was it, she knew. After trying so hard, this was it. Still, she’d never give in to the demon, not even to keep living. Tears welled up in her eyes at that thought, and she murmured an apology to Josef. She’d tried to keep going, to cling to life, but the price was just too high. Still, she kept breathing as Sted raised his sword, pressing the sharp tip against her ribs, just below her heart. So long as she was alive, she had hope, even now.
Hope, the demon sneered. A stupid, human concept.
“That’s the idea,” she whispered back.
Her last thought before closing her mind was Josef as she’d first met him, leaning over her on the snowy mountain slope, telling her to breathe. Then the sword came down, and the world vanished.
Josef floated in darkness. He was in pain, horrible pain, but he couldn’t see where. His body was missing, lost somewhere in the blackness. It was just him and the pain and the darkness that went on and on and on forever.
“I’m dead,” Josef said. It was as much an experiment to see if he could speak as a test to see how that statement felt. The words made no sound, which made sense, considering, but they felt very real when he said them.
Don’t be stupid, a voice answered from the darkness. If you were dead, you wouldn’t be in pain.
Josef flinched. It was the Heart’s voice, and if he was hurt enough to hear it, things must be really bad. On the other hand, if the sword was talking, it probably knew what was going on, which meant it was time for some answers.
“If I’m not dead,” Josef said, “where am I, and how do I get out?”
You are almost dead, the Heart answered. I caught your life a moment before it flickered out. I am keeping it alive by holding it next to my own until you decide what you’re going to do.
“What do you mean, ‘I decide’?” Josef said. “What’s there to decide? I’m not going to die to someone like Sted.”
I’m afraid things are no longer that simple, Josef Liechten, the Heart said and sighed. We were defeated utterly. Struck down. And do you know why?
Josef felt a twinge of shame. “Because I’m not strong enough.”
Correct, the Heart thundered.
Josef choked. The Heart’s answer struck him harder than any of Sted’s blows.
The Heart sighed. I’ve been waiting for a defeat like this to make you understand. You think you know what it means to be strong, but every time a fight pushes you, you wait until the last moment to draw me, then treat my blade as a guaranteed victory, an undefeatable weapon.
“I have to,” Josef said. “You’re too strong. You agreed I’m not good enough, but how can I get better if your power blows everything away? You’re the greatest awakened sword ever made, but I’m the one bleeding to death on the floor, not Sted. Obviously, the weakness is with me. I have to fix it before I can move forward.”
Fights you can win with dull swords are not the ones that make you better, the Heart said. Every time you fight you handicap yourself, pushing me aside for your dull blades, thinking that doing so will make you stronger. But real strength doesn’t come from such cheap tricks. Real strength comes from fighting at the edge of your ability, pushing yourself past the last inch of your resolve with everything you have.
Rage filled Josef, and he started to answer, but the Heart cut him off.
I chose you as my wielder because I thought you understood this. But from the moment I allowed you to grasp my hilt, you’ve done nothing but avoid my powers. Not once have you used me to my full potential. You draw me only as a last resort, a final blow.