For an instant Isaac wondered whether he should go for one of the pikes fastened to the wall. But that was not his skill. He didn’t know how to fight hand to hand. His skill was . . .

He pressed the pendant again and this time took the hum and amplified it the way he had with Kat and Amelie.

The blue light in the room began to grow. The knight began to move, taking a step toward Isaac.

“That is not what I had in mind,” Isaac muttered. But he stood his ground. Squared his shoulders. He did not try to disappear or shrink away, but instead stiffened and braced and clenched his fists. The magical power that he could amplify—he could feel it, bright and good, so he knew it was not evil—zinged through him, and he even imagined he might be glowing. “But this is,” he said out loud.

The knight paused and turned the sword in his gloved hands until he held the blade so that the hilt faced Isaac. Then he went down on one knee, slower than slow, with a clinking and creaking, until his knee clattered on the stone floor. The knight inclined his head.

Isaac had seen plenty of pictures. Medieval history was his favorite. This was the image of a knight swearing fealty. Surprise and pleasure flooded Isaac.

Isaac took a step toward the knight, and that’s when he saw it. The sigil that the knight wore, embroidered on the tattered tunic that hung over his armor, was the eternity knot.

“Ha!” The small laugh escaped Isaac, because he could also see that the eternity knot was carved into the bronze hilt of the sword, the hilt that was within Isaac’s reach. He wrapped his hand around it, the eternity knot imprinting on his palm.

The knight released the sword, and Isaac Wolf stood in the middle of the armory facing a ghost knight performing an homage on bended knee, and Isaac held a (very heavy) sword in his right hand.

He grasped the sword in both hands so as not to drop it, and even more energy surged through him, as if the sword itself fed him with a powerful force.

The knight straightened and stood and waited. The entire space around Isaac waited as the magic hummed through him until his arms began to shake with the strain and he lowered the sword until the point touched the floor and he could hold it with his left hand on the hilt. He took a deep breath.

When Isaac heard the pop in the air behind him, he didn’t jump.

“What is it, Willow?” Isaac asked without turning.