Page 28 of Guardian of Exile

Nyx nudged Evra. “She’s telling the truth.” The blood on Veritas’s blade had turned blue, indicating truth. “She’s from here.”

Mary’s nose wrinkled. “Not here. Brooklyn. You haven’t been in New York more than a minute, have you? You don’t know the difference.”

Since Nyx didn’t think saying No, I meant here as in Earth would have any positive effect on the conversation, she didn’t correct Mary.

“Do you know that everything you are selling here is dangerous?” Evra asked.

The shopkeeper shrugged. “It’s just junk.”

The blood on Veritas turned black. “She knows,” Nyx said.

Mary cast her eyes heavenward in the manner of a woman had seen far too much in life and couldn’t believe she was now being bothered with this. “People know what they come here for. It’s no business of mine if they hurt themselves with it.”

“And if they hurt others?” Evra demanded.

“Then it’s even less my business. And don’t you be all high and mighty. You’re clearly no stranger to getting what you want by the means available.” She lifted her Gleipnir-bound wrists. “So let’s make a deal. Give me this little bauble here, and I won’t send anything nasty after you when you leave.”

“Counteroffer,” Evra said. “We have questions. Answer them, and we’ll take that ‘little bauble’ off you.”

Mary laughed. “No, I don’t think I will. Neither of you has the stomach for torture, so what are you going to do? Stay here all day, waiting for me to talk? Take my first offer. Give me this little delight”—she indicated Gleipnir again—“and I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

“That ‘little delight’ is off the table,” Nyx snapped. “It’s worth more than your entire shop put together. And it was a gift.”

“Lover?” Mary asked.

“Father.” When Nyx had been sent Gleipnir to help with the Council’s order to apprehend Morgen, he’d been shocked they’d given it to her. Now it made sense. The Council as such hadn’t sent her Gleipnir at all. Jevryn had, when he’d learned who had become the new Guardian of Earth’s Station. Nyx valued it too much to give it up for nothing. The same way Mary valued the contents of her shop.

An idea came to Nyx. A foolish idea, but it was there, and it wasn’t going away. Because Mary was right—neither she nor Evra was going to torture her for information. Which meant all Mary had to do was keep her mouth shut and eventually they would go away.

“You should have taken her offer,” Nyx said, indicating Evra. “Because you’re going to like mine even less.”

Taking a deep breath, Nyx reached for the chain around her neck. She hit the leather string holding Seth’s rock first, forced herself to ignore it, and drew the metal necklace chain from beneath her shirt instead. It bore two items: Jevryn’s ring, that in truth belonged to Griff, and the Harvester of Worlds. It was the latter item Nyx took in her hand.

“I am not sure that is the best idea,” Evra said.

“Ordinarily, I would agree with you. But given what I’m going to have to do if we find Tristen? I think I should probably get some practice in first.” Practice, because the one and only time she’d used the Harvester before, she’d barely kept control of it. At least here, in Dead Earth, its abilities would be blunted. She hoped.

The Harvester vibrated against her hand, energetic and eager. Like a hunting dog waiting impatiently to be released. When she’d used it against the Kumir in her Station, she’d had a focused, defined goal: eliminate the Kumir. Even then, it had wanted to go beyond that directive, had reached past the Kumir for her friends.

It warmed against her palm now, clearly wanting the release she contemplated. Against Nyx’s hip, Alihana rattled, a vibration that was almost akin to panic. Perhaps was panic. They had been absorbed by the Harvester once before, had informed Nyx in no uncertain terms that they would not be contained within it again until she could prove she had gained the knowledge necessary to set them free. To ensure they were not trapped forever within the Harvester’s confines.

She ignored the rattling, giving her focus to the Harvester. It didn’t speak to her, as Alihana did, but she felt its intentions—its desires—all the same. It was hungry. Riven, the Dwarf whose ancestor had created the Harvester, had called it the Devourer. It was an apt name, in Nyx’s opinion, because all she felt from it was an endless hunger.

You can have one, she thought at it, uncertain if it could hear or understand her, but certain that it was her will that had allowed it the freedom to act before. Nyx looked through the store, cataloging the various items. She wanted to start with something valuable, but not the most valuable. She settled on a set of antique coasters and held the Harvester out towards them. Go ahead.

The Harvester pulsed, rippled, grew—and opened. The same light she remembered from its last temporary freedom spilled out in harsh beams. When she had used it in the Station, the light had been so bright it nearly blinded her. But when Laiveran had activated it on Amentia Furor, the light had been more contained.

Can you kill the lights show? The beams, which had been starting to break from all areas of the sphere, retracted, giving the Harvester itself a golden glow, but not a damaging one. It spun in her hand, slowly at first, then picking up speed.

“Is she unwell?” Mary asked, and Nyx realized that, with her Hiding over the Harvester, the woman couldn’t see what she was doing. To her, it would look like Nyx stood cupping empty air. Nyx felt a light pinging against her Hiding, but since the shopkeeper had already decided Nyx was a little touched in the head, she wasn’t actively trying to see through it, so the Hiding remained firmly in place with little effort.

Mary didn’t need to see the Harvester to see the end result of its work. The sphere spun and spun, the rings comprising it blurring together as it gained momentum, hitting a zenith Nyx felt in her bones. Rather than light spilling out this time, she felt force. An inexorable wave of attractive power, like a gravitational pull. It latched on to the coasters Nyx had selected. They moved, caught in the tug, rising from their place on a nearby display counter and floating to Nyx. They hovered before the Harvester for the span of a second. Then they began to dissolve.

When the Harvester had taken the Kumir, they had seemed to disintegrate in steps: first flesh, then tissue, then bones. Nyx did not know if this was because there had been so many more of them, or because the Harvester had been savoring the experience. Regardless, the process happened far more quickly this time. The coasters broke apart into infinitesimally small pieces, as if being reverted to their base molecular components. Then that thin trail of matter streamed into the Harvester and vanished, as if it had never been.

“Hey!” Mary lunged forward, but Gleipnir held her back. “That was mine.”

The Harvester in Nyx’s hand felt no heavier than it had before. It felt no less hungry than it had before. Another two items from the display counter rose in the air, streaking to a halt before her. She clamped down on the Harvester with all her will.