Most of the blades should skim by me if I’m in the right position. We spent hours mapping the routes. The ones that hit me, I will need to heal. Again, I will combine power with illusion. It would help if I were an actual contortionist, but at least I’m small.

I nod, and Willow and Nadine move in sync, pulling blades off the table one after another and shoving them through the box. Willow balked at doing this part, but I promised her she wasn’t going to wound me that badly.

They start at the bottom, and I pretend to wince even though they’re nowhere near my legs yet. Some of the audience laughs and hoots at my pretend pain, but at least I’m giving them their desire.

Then the first one slices through my pants and skims the skin of my thigh. I clench my teeth and pull back slightly so I can call the magic to my wound. Another hits the fleshy part of my upper arm. Many slide through without actually touching me, but enough hit me to make my eyes burn. I heal the ones that just scratch me as they go by; the ones that stay embedded I will need to hit with a rush of magic as the blades release. Otherwise I will bleed out and gain nothing from my pain.

Pain’s worthwhile only if you gain something.

I made Roman stab me at least fifty times yesterday with varying degrees of severity. He had to heal me sometimes. By the end, I could heal myself 90 percent of the time. Xander refused to stab me at all. He didn’t want me to perform this trick. When I said I had no choice, he stopped arguing. He knew it too.

A blade sinks too deep into my thigh, and I actually gasp. It shouldn’t have gone so deep. I’m out of position.

Nadine pauses, concern freezing her features.

I nod. Keep going.

Blood trickles down in more places than I can count as I struggle to adjust myself. The last four swords will box in my neck.

Nadine and Willow pick up the remaining swords, placing them so they look like they will pierce through my throat. They push. The skin on the back of my neck opens in a thin line and I almost jerk my head forward into the other blade sliding through. Instead, I hold steady and let myself bleed.

Nadine and Willow stand back and bow. The crowd cheers, and then I call on everything inside of me until my blood screams for me to let go of some of the power. I order the blades away from me and they obey, sliding out of the box as one and crashing to the floor in a beautiful chorus of clanging metal.

The magic, already nearly smothering every inch of me, burns and heals the wounds.