“All right.” I used an older fantasy to create what the Porter catalog referred to as Excalibur #29. This was a simpler take on the mythical blade: Roman in style, with a golden hilt. I brought the scabbard along as well. In this version, the scabbard had certain healing and defensive magic. Lena had her healing cordial, but I’d lost mine the night before. I drew the sword and pressed it into Lena’s hands. It turned visible, escaping the magic that still concealed me.

Lena plunged the blade into the crack at the edge of the door. She hauled down, muscles flexing beneath wood. I grimaced at the metallic squeal as she cut through the hinges. She yanked Excalibur free. Power flowed through her saplings. They flexed and bulged, twisting the door from its frame to reveal the prisoners beyond.

“Déjà vu,” I whispered. This corridor looked like it had come straight from the pages of my report describing the vampires’ dungeons in the Detroit salt mines. Each cell was airtight, with small steel doors for passing food and other objects in and out. A layer of thick Plexiglas stood just beyond the steel bars that had probably been here since the prison was built. The cells were furnished with narrow beds, a steel toilet and sink, and little else. The prisoners I’d seen in the yard pressed against the Plexiglas, watching Deb and Lena.

Lena handed Excalibur to me. “Get them out of there.”

“Where are you going?”

She strode down the hall without answering. I thought about trying to stop her. I didn’t think she’d kill anyone if she didn’t have to, but I’d never seen her like this. She disappeared around a bend.

I either trusted her or I didn’t. I turned to the nearest cell and stabbed Excalibur between the bars, through the Plexiglas.

My invisibility wavered. I tried to force the sword down to cut a doorway. Excalibur wouldn’t move. Clearly, stabbing wasn’t the right approach here. I should have created a damned lightsaber.

A devourer in the wall stretched out to envelop the blade. I yanked it free and stepped away until the spells trapping the devourer in place tugged it back like a dog at the end of its leash. After taking a moment to repair the sword’s magic, I moved in and slashed a quick X. Enchanted steel cut through the bars and the door beyond. I completed one more swing, this one low and horizontal, before Excalibur crumbled to black, gritty dust in my hands.

Broken bars clanged to the floor. A kick from Deb knocked a triangular chunk of three-inch thick Plexiglas loose. That only left the devourer.

“You’re gonna need more swords,” Deb commented.