"Blue Team accounted for, sir," Ramirez answered, his low voice tight and grim.

This went on for three hours, the colonel calling out to Red Team (Julie), Green Team (Jorge's command, which had been given to newly promoted Captain Nguyen), Orange Team (Johnson for Will). And White-my team, led by Uncle Mike himself. Each of us had fifteen to twenty trucks a.s.signed to us. My nerves were stretched to the breaking point each time the radio crackled thinking about the number of souls I'd be responsible for today.

"We'll be at the park entrance in a few minutes, sir," Lanningham said.

It took me a moment to realize he meant me. "Okay."

Blakeney reached out to squeeze my shoulder. "We're gonna be right there, Archer. Ain't anything you can say to change that. Me and Lanningham won't leave you today."

In spite of myself, I smiled. "Never doubted it for a second."

"Good," Lanningham said. "Because you're acting like a man headed to his death, and we won't let that happen. Understand?"

I did, but they couldn't control that piece of the battle. The Dark Master had something in store for me, and it likely wasn't anything we could defend against. Still, they needed hope as much as I needed purpose. "Understood, sir. And thank you both. Outside of Will, I can't imagine anybody else I'd want with me out there."

"We told Captain Johnson you'd want Cruessan nearby, so Orange will be with us," Blakeney said. "That eased the colonel's mind some. I think he was worried about splitting his time between watching you and Captain Tannen, while managing the artillery a.s.sault on top of it. Knowing Captain Johnson and Cruessan will be close seemed to settle him down."

It was good to know I wasn't the only one wound tight. "Good thinking."

"We try," Lanningham said. "Now, get your game face on. We're at the gate."

In the distance, the sand dunes loomed. From here, they were so tall they almost blocked the shadowed cloud behind them. Almost.

The Park's director and the head of the National Guard unit stationed there met us at the service road that ran to the foot of the dunes. In the stark afternoon sun, the sand shimmered a light beige in the distance. The weather was chilly, about forty degrees, but the sand made it seem warmer.

"We're making an exception," the director was saying. "You can take the ranger track as far in as your vehicles will go. It won't be nearly far enough because not even Humvees can take that sand, but it's the best we can offer."

"Thank you," Uncle Mike said. "Any changes in temperature, wind or anything because of the ent.i.ty?"

The man shuddered. "Ent.i.ty. It's alive, isn't it?"

Uncle Mike nodded. "Seen anything that might help?"

"No, sir. Other than capturing the helicopter, it hasn't moved," the National Guard major told us. "Temperature has stayed stable, and it hasn't changed position or grown. It's sitting at the top of the dunes. Like it's waiting."

Everyone looked at me. I rolled my eyes. You'd think they'd stop doing that at some point. "Major, it'd be a good idea to station your men here, at the foot of the dunes. You'll be the last line of defense."

He grimaced. "Mr. Archer, if they pa.s.s you by, there won't be much we can do. But trust me when I say we'll try everything to stop them here."

"Good enough." I turned to Uncle Mike. "I want to talk to the wielders."

We walked back to the Humvee. It seemed impossible evil would even come here, where we were surrounded by gorgeous scenery. The Sangre de Cristo mountains, lined with fir and cedar, made a regal backdrop, at least where they weren't blotted out by the shadow. Medano Creek-where we'd cross to access the dunes-was dry, as the snow at the higher elevations wasn't melting to provide runoff. The sky, too, was a perfect autumn blue.

Perverse to have a fight on a day, and in a place, this beautiful. I kind of thought the Dark Master wanted it that way. To show that he was stronger, he'd destroy it all on live television. Fear was a powerful tool, and he knew how to wield it as well as I wielded my knife.

The others met me at the back of my Humvee. Jorge looked impa.s.sive, but his eyes glittered with power. Julie and Ramirez wore matching grim, bada.s.s expressions. Will was about as stoic as I'd ever seen. If this was a poker game, nothing would have shown on his face. I wondered how they saw me. A strange calm had filled me as soon as I got out of the vehicle. I knew it was Tink, doing her best to keep me steady, but what did the others see?

Aware of the hundreds of eyes watching this meeting, I turned so no one could read my lips. I didn't want anyone worrying that I didn't have some grand speech prepared. Instead, all I said was, "This is it."

Jorge stuck out his hand, and I shook it. Ramirez did the same. Aunt Julie dropped the harda.s.s bit long enough to give me a hug and kiss my cheek.

And then there was Will. He watched me close, then leaned in to whisper, "We'll do whatever we have to. Mamie's worth it."

I nodded and clasped his shoulder. "She always has been. Now," I said, raising my voice enough for the soldiers close by to hear, "Let's go hunt some monsters!"

"Hooah!" Ramirez shouted, startling Aunt Julie, who laughed.

This was a good way to start.

The colonel came over. "Ready?"

"Yes," I said. "Here's how this works. The wielders and their direct support staff go in at the vanguard. Station the rest of the team to the left or right flanks. Pump as much artillery into the cloud as you want to start with, but once we're downrange, stop."

He c.o.c.ked his head. "You're thinking knife work only? On a cloud the size of two city blocks?"

"A cloud that ate a helicopter and a couple of sidewinders. Unless you have spirit-bound sh.e.l.ls, I don't think anything but the knives will work-not even air support. Your team is a distraction. Showmanship." I smirked-I'm sure it looked like a gravedigger's smile. "If he can do it, so can we."

"Then it's show time," Uncle Mike said. "Load up."

"Hooah!" I shouted. Everyone in hearing distance answered in kind.

Chapter Thirty-Five.

The Humvees raced forward, throwing up clouds of sand. The pulsing darkness roiled like storm clouds up ahead. Like I'd expected, the second my Humvee crossed Medano Creek, the shadows had gathered together more tightly and started converging our direction.

Uncle Mike came over the radio. "That's the last of it. We've stopped firing. It's your turn."

I pressed the b.u.t.ton on my earpiece. "Understood. Wielders, we're up."

"May your blades cut deep," Jorge said, from his Humvee.

"Planning on it," Julie answered.

I unsheathed my knife, took a deep breath, then leaned my arm on the window sill. If this vision was going to come true, I was going to own it. I rose up in my seat so I could stick my head all the way out of my window and turned to face the vehicles following my own. As I did it, I let every ounce of anger I had show on my face. Will's Humvee, driven by Johnson himself, flashed its brights at us.

Screeches and cackles filled the air. I slid back into my seat. We were getting close enough to see shapes in the shadows. Deformed things, like what you'd expect living in slime beneath a moss-covered rock, monsters of every shape and size. Every so often, I saw something worse-beings that could only be described as angels. Their skin was charcoal, their wings jet black, and their faces so beautiful, my throat constricted every time I looked at them. They carried dark swords, one in each hand, and ran with preternatural grace. One in particular, a female that looked a little like Ella's photo-negative, held me in thrall until Lanningham smacked the back of my head.

"Don't stare at them too long," he barked. "Blakeney, put that out on the radio. Don't look directly into the cloud. Focus on the rocks behind it until we hit the staging area."

I blinked and shuddered, and the knife sent a sharp zing up my arm, setting my teeth on edge.

We fight soon, Tink hissed. To the death.

Her magic swelled inside me until the world went crystal clear with blinding light. I shook with the power of it, hoping I could keep her contained until the right moment. "Hold that thought. We're almost there."

The Humvee lurched and skidded across the loose sand. Blakeney's arms were so tight on the steering wheel, the cords of his forearms stood out. "We can't go much farther, sir. No traction."

"Stop here," I said. "Tell everyone to get ready to run in hard. We won't have to go far-they're coming to us."

"Sir, yes, sir," Lanningham said. He engaged the radio. "Archer Convoy, Archer Convoy. Direct command from Archer actual: deploy on foot. Go in heavy."

I didn't have time to ask him what "Archer actual" meant because the second I flung open my door, the dark host exploded into motion.

Knife in hand, I barreled into the fray without thought about my safety. This wall was in my way, and they were going down so I could get to their boss. Two troll-like shadows disappeared in sparks as soon as the blade so much as touched them. One of those dark angels came behind, sword in hand. He swung down hard at my head. I blocked the blow just in time and metal squealed against metal. The dark angel was strong, bending me nearly horizontal as I held him off.

Then he cried out and started to crack, like parched earth, before crumbling into ashes at my feet.

Aunt Julie stood behind him, wiping black dust off her knife blade onto her pants' leg. "Will got hung up."

Then she whirled in a circle, taking down no less than five demons with one swing. Another sprang ten feet in the air, like it was going to land on her head, but she sidestepped it abnormally fast, caught it in the throat with her blade and dragged it down.

d.a.m.n.

"I think you've got this," I said, marveling at how well she and her knife-spirit worked together. "I'm going further in."

She waved a hand, too busy to do more than that. A swarm of bug-eyed, winged monsters the size of Penn were flying toward her and the last I saw before being surrounded was Aunt Julie laughing as she stood her ground.

The group that came for me looked roughly like men, except featureless, with bodies that fluttered like smoke. A few angels stood behind, waiting.

"Lining up?" I yelled, as the smoke-men closed in. "I'll be ready for you in a minute."

The dark angels smirked at me, then pointed over my shoulder. The report of automatic weapons and several grenade bursts sounded from the left flank. I turned; a segment of the dark army was bending around us and going after the support team.

Shouts, followed soon by screams and more artillery fire, carried over the wind and there wasn't a thing I could do about it. p.i.s.sed, I attacked the closest of the smoke-men. Unlike the trolls, who disintegrated at a touch, these winked out of existence, then returned at my other side.

"Great. Just like the Takers, but there's more of you, I bet," I snapped.

None of the smoke-men answered. Borrowing Aunt Julie's trick, I whirled around with my blade out, and caught four of them before they saw me coming. The rest figured it out and poofed away.

I stopped spinning long enough to see where they went, when a dart came flying at my head. I dodged to the side, bringing my blade up to catch it, but it still nicked my left bicep pretty good. I pressed my hand against the wound and my fingers came away slick with blood.

Darts? Seriously, what did they think this was, amateur hour? It didn't even seem like it was poisoned, or if it was, Tink had already neutralized it. I picked up the dart and threw it as hard as I could at the squat demon aiming a blowpipe at me. It must've hit him, because he disintegrated into a pile of steaming sludge.

Tink growled in my head. She really didn't like it when I bled, and I could feel her getting ready to unleash all she had. Before she had a chance to hit me, though, three of the smoke-men appeared. One grabbed me around the throat and lifted me from the ground. Not wanting to let go of my knife, I clawed at it with my left hand. A second smoke-man caught my arm, then out this unG.o.dly shriek before exploding in a cloud of dust like pencil lead shavings. The one holding my neck dropped me and backed away. I had no idea what I'd done, but even the angels turned to run.

I chased after them. "Come back and fight you cowards!"

All around me, the battle raged. To my right, Jorge danced about, slashing open demon after demon. Ramirez was fighting two angels at once, moving so fast he was a blur.

And Julie? Well, she was earning her nickname. A trail of ashes and tarlike goo followed in her wake and she was still laughing. A wild gleam shone in her eyes as she raced from crisis to crisis.

She caught me looking, let out a war-whoop and shouted, "Best day of my life!" before slashing down on a demon's shoulder so hard, the blade sliced through flesh and bone to reach its heart.

For an absurd second, I wondered if Uncle Mike should hang up the military thing and spend his days worshipping the ground this G.o.ddess of mayhem walked on.

Shaking my head, I turned in a circle, searching for Will. He'd made it the farthest up the dune, right into the heart of the ma.s.s, and he was in serious danger of being overrun.

I started up the hill, cursing the sliding sand. Running up the incline was nearly impossible and my legs strained with the effort. In my earpiece, Uncle Mike shouted for heavy artillery support on the left flank, and pained screams served as background noise over our comm. I almost turned around to help, but a ma.s.s of shadows rushed Will.

Torn, I ran toward Will. Losing him wasn't an option.

I crested the dune and arrived in barely enough time to take out a smoke-man that had coalesced into existence behind him.

"Took you long enough, you hoser," he called.

I stabbed a troll. "I had some work to do first."

"Excuses, excuses. Thought you were here to save the world." He punctuated each sentence by taking out a pair of creeping things with forked tongues and long necks.

"Speaking of which ... " I ducked under one of those flying bug-eyed monsters and caught its wing with my knife. Poof, gone. "What's up with the sky?"

It had dimmed since we'd arrived, like something was leeching the color from it. There weren't any storm clouds, but the blue wasn't as brilliant. Even the sun looked faded.

"No idea." Will met a blow from a tall, tree-like creature with fronds for hair and ma.s.sive branch-like arms. When it swung at him again, he lowered his shoulder and tossed it over his back before running it through.

He paused long enough to catch his breath. "Where did they go?"

An empty circle, with a radius that stretched out forty feet, had formed around us, with Will and me as the center point. "I seem to scare them off."

"Then let's go!" He started jogging toward the artillery group. Before he'd gone ten yards, a smoke-man appeared out of thin air. When I ran to help, though, the creature squawked and disappeared.

"Holy c.r.a.p, they really are scared of you," Will said. "Come on-let's push them away from the support team."

"Good idea," I said, running after him. Every time he got more than fifteen feet ahead, a monster would try to engage. And every time I came running to help, it would take off.

The bubble of safety followed us all the way to Uncle Mike, who was calling out commands over the radio. Down the line, rockets and grenades shot into the ma.s.s, away from where Jorge, Julie and Ramirez fought. Nothing seemed to help, though, and right before I got there, a group of dark angels stormed one of the tanks. In seconds, they pried the hatch off.

Smoke-men poured out the top, one carrying the charred remains of a soldier. The men nearby backed away, trying to defend themselves, but the angels started cutting them down like a farmer scything wheat. Behind them, a host of goblins went after the wounded with teeth and claws. Blood stained the sand.

"Fall back, fall back," Uncle Mike barked. "Regroup at Blue team's line."

He jumped when I tapped him on the shoulder. "Chief, what are you doing down here?"

"Look!" Will said, pointing at the field.

All around us, monsters were backing away. Men who'd been actively engaged suddenly found themselves staring at a blank s.p.a.ce.

"Bring everyone here to you, okay?" I said. "Then let me call the wielders."