He shook her. “Tanith? Please don’t be dead. Please don’t be dead.”

“My eyelids are blinking and I’m looking at you,” she mumbled. “Generally speaking, dead people don’t do either of those things.”

“Oh, thank God,” he said, and babbled some more as he pulled her to her feet.

Her legs were shaky, but her strength was returning fast. That was some punch Vex had caught her with. Vex himself was on the ground beside them, trying his best to get up.

“Kick him,” Tanith said.

Wilhelm’s eyes widened. “Me? I’m not, I’m not a fighter, Tanith. I told you. I wouldn’t know how to—”

“Just kick him,” she said. “In the face. Before he stands up. Now, Wilhelm. Now.”

Looking like he might cry, Wilhelm gave a half-hearted kick to Vex’s leg.

“The face,” Tanith repeated.

Wilhelm pressed his foot against Vex’s ear and tried to sort of shoo him away. Tanith growled, pulled Wilhelm to one side and kicked Vex in the jaw. He slumped.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Wilhelm said. “I told you I’m not a fighter. I told you I shouldn’t be here. I don’t even know why you brought me!”

She took his hand and led him to the glass case. “Because you’re very important to me, Wilhelm. Your uncle was the man who installed the security for the sword, did you know that?”

Despite his fear, Wilhelm frowned. “He was?”

“Oh, yes. Recognise that?” She pointed to the image carved into the side of the case. “That’s your family crest, isn’t it? The only people who can open this case are the Elders of this Sanctuary and the man who made the case itself – or someone of his blood.”

“I can open it?” Wilhelm asked, his voice breathy with wonder.

“Yes. Sort of. When I say ‘of his blood’, I literally mean... well...”

Keeping hold of his hand, she took her own sword from its scabbard and cut off his little finger. Wilhelm screamed and howled and fell to his knees and she left him to his distress. Holding the finger by the knuckle, she smeared a bloody symbol over the family crest and watched the crest start to glow. Something clicked, and the case opened.

Tanith tossed Wilhelm his finger – getting not even a thank you in return – and slid her sword into the scabbard across her back. Then she lifted the God-Killer from its velvet cushion. It was heavy. It was big. The blade itself was longer than she was. A ridiculously cool-looking sword, in the hands of a ridiculously cool-looking chick.

That grin was back on her face again.