Black lightning erupted from points of the Grace outside the outer ring to arc to the pommel of the glowing sword. Every crackling, twisting streak of it felt as if it was born in her very soul.

At the same time, blinding flashes of bright lightning grounded at the pommel of the sword exploded skyward with earsplitting booms. The blade looked as if it might explode from all the heat and the mix of lightning from different worlds.

Merritt stood then and lifted his arms. As he drew his arms upward, over and over, great columns of water erupted from the pond, pouring up and over the sword. As the waves of water broke over the sword and the structure, she could see the glowing sword through the water.

Clouds of steam billowed up as more and more water funneled up from the pond in a twisting column that cascaded over the sword.

The flashes of white-hot and inky black lightning hurt her eyes. The thunderous noise hurt her ears. The sword smoked and steamed with a howling sound that matched that of the spirits twisting through the greenish air.

Magda’s head felt as if it might explode. The stitches of pain in her side hurt so much she couldn’t draw a breath. It felt like a great weight was crushing her chest, preventing her from drawing air into her lungs.

Everything began to dim. Even though she knew that all the sight and sound was still going on, it seemed ever more distant.

And then, the Sword of Truth suddenly plunged straight down toward the ground.

Magda screamed. As the sword fell, it felt as if an iron spike were being driven down through the top of her head, through her insides, and right into the core of her soul.

Like a great iron door slamming closed, the world went from green to black.

Chapter 67

Magda was dimly aware that she was lying on something soft. She slitted her eyes, squinting. The light hurt her eyes.

She was shivering all over. She realized that for some reason she was not simply cold but also soaking wet. She remembered, then, that it had started raining fat drops of icy rain when they had been out in the woods. She didn’t think that she was still in the woods, but she was having difficulty, between bouts of shivering, trying to figure out where she was.

She saw the hazy figure of Merritt moving about not far away. It was comforting to see him.

Her vision wouldn’t focus but she could make out a table and a chair. There was a bit of red on the table. She saw statues, stacks of books, scrolls, bones, and all sorts of strange devices sitting everywhere around the floor. There were lit candles around the room, too, some on low tables, some on the tops of short pillars, some on the table.