I pinched my lips together; a smirk kept trying to break loose. Yeah, both of us working up an appet.i.te was definitely my fault. "Okay, okay. One chicken sandwich with sweet potato fries, all for you."

Ella snagged the plate, shaking her head. "But the fried chicken, the hamburger, the big salad, the enchiladas and the-what is that?"

"Salisbury steak." I had a soft spot for Salisbury steak. "I wanted to be sure we took full advantage of Congressman Patrick's generosity."

"Well, in that case, order me another piece of cake," she said, settling cross-legged at the foot of the bed with her sandwich. The fact that she was wearing my T-shirt-and little else-made me wonder if I had to eat right this second, or if food could wait another few hours.

Then I yawned, which totally ruined the leer.

"You need to sleep," she said. "It's getting late and you've had a hard day."

I thought about protesting that suggestion, but I found it harder and harder to move my fork to my mouth. I managed to polish off the Salisbury steak and the burger before my eyelids decided to go on strike. I cleared the plates off the bed and crawled under the covers. Ella's chuckle was the last thing I heard before drifting off.

"Matt!" Mamie screams, a sound that tears through me. The pain she has to be experiencing to scream like that ...

Heart in my throat, I shout, "I'm coming! I'll find you!"

But the dark surrounds me, and I can't tell which direction to go. Each time I lift a foot, it snaps back to the floor, like I'm held by elastic bands.

A voice I know all too well whispers in the darkness, "We have her now. You're too late-it's hopeless."

"Matt, wake up. Come on, open your eyes." A hand shook my shoulder. "You're having a bad dream. You need to wake up now."

I came awake with a start to find Ella staring down at me, eyes wide with concern. Early morning light filtered through the curtains. I'd been out a long time.

"That was some nightmare," she said. "Do you have them often?"

I rubbed a hand across my face, surprised-and kind of embarra.s.sed-to find tears on my cheeks. That particular dream always made me feel like I'd run a marathon in cement shoes, but I'd never cried before. I knew why I had this time, though. Because deep down, I was starting to believe he was right.

It was hopeless.

"Want to talk about it?" Ella asked, laying a hand on my arm.

"No," I said. "This one I have to handle alone."

I could tell she didn't like the answer, but she nodded and lay down again. I curled up next to her, hoping to get a little more sleep before the day started, but the dream wouldn't leave my head. When Uncle Mike knocked to tell me everyone was meeting downstairs to go to the Pentagon, it was a relief to get up and turn on the lights.

I swept past the crowd waiting for me in the lobby. Saying goodbye to Ella for who knew how long had me pretty wrecked, and I didn't want to be forced into conversation when I was barely hanging on. Leaving that part of my life behind hurt, so I'd told her not to see me off, that I couldn't bear watching her and Penn sadly waving goodbye as our caravan pulled away.

Will was waiting in the backseat of one of the SUVs when I climbed in. He took one look at me, nodded, then stared out the window with a morose expression.

I wasn't the only one having trouble saying goodbye.

"They're going home this afternoon," I said.

"Safer there," he said. "Even if they'll be grounded for the next two years."

"It sucks to see them go, though."

"Yeah, it does." He sighed. "Penn punched me in the stomach before bursting into tears when I got ready to leave. I've never seen Destroyer cry before. Not once."

Theirs was a complicated love affair, but there could be no doubt that they were as tight as Ella and I were. "Ella had a really hard time letting go. So did I."

"Same here. Even after Penn punched me." He smiled sadly. "I think it was her way of telling me she was mad I was leaving."

That's all either of us said the entire way to the Pentagon. The streets were nearly empty; martial law had been set the night before to deal with the search and rescue. We avoided any streets near the capital and made our way out of town without much trouble, pa.s.sing checkpoints like magic as soon as they saw our IDs. Or our faces.

Mom kept looking over the seat at me, like she was waiting for me to talk. I couldn't, though. I was struggling with the transition back into a soldier's life, and leaning on Mom's shoulder wouldn't make that any easier. The part of me I left at the hotel-the real Matt, the guy only Ella could see anymore-had to go back into storage.

We pulled into the Pentagon and stopped at the guardhouse. The private manning security stared into the SUV with his mouth open. We were waved through without even having to produce IDs and he saluted us all the way through the gate.

"Well, that was weird," Will murmured.

"We'll have to get used to it," I said, not sure why I felt so glum about our newfound celebrity. Wasn't the respect of other soldiers what we always wanted?

"Wonder what's going on back home." He snorted. "How fast do you think the texts were flying the second we showed up on TV yesterday?"

"Nanoseconds." There were a few people in Billings who had probably been very surprised when we were outed-Sami Weber and Carter James in particular. An ironic laugh bubbled up. "At least Mrs. Stevens doesn't have to keep our secret anymore."

Mamie turned around. "The princ.i.p.al knew?"

"Yeah, someone told her," I said, staring at the back of Mom's head. "It caused quite a reaction."

"I imagine." My sister smiled-for the first time I'd seen in three days. "That's actually pretty funny."

Any levity faded as we pulled up to the doors, where General Richardson, Sergeant Davis and Congressman Tarantino waited. The congressman was out of place with his nice suit and styled hair, but his face was as grim as the general's.

"Uh oh," I said. "Something's happening."

Will leaned over to see out my window. "What do you want to bet we're about to be deployed?"

"Nothing." Their expressions-and the fact that they met us personally-told me what I needed to know.

D.C. had only been the beginning.

We went inside single file, bypa.s.sing the security line. I wondered at that, but the general didn't stop until we entered a large conference room.

"Mrs. Archer, I'm afraid you and Brent need to wait in another room." The general motioned to an aide. "Please take them to my office and make them comfortable."

Mom crossed her arms. "I want to know what's going to happen to my son. He's still a minor, which means I have a right to be here." Then she paused. "Wait, you said Brent and I need to leave. What about Mamie?"

The general exchanged glances with Uncle Mike. "We need her, too."

"Well, then." Mom plopped down in a chair. "I'd invite you to try to make me leave."

Uncle Mike groaned and waved off the general. "Let her stay. If Brent's in charge of Mamie's security, it wouldn't hurt for him to be here, too."

My brother scowled. "Are you sure? Because yesterday you made it pretty clear I'm not necessary."

"Brent, cut him a break," Will said. "We had a bad day, but now we have to work. Let it go."

I had a feeling part of that little speech was for Uncle Mike, but Mom stepped up. "Let it go? My children are being endangered by the Army, and they want me to leave the room. That's not going to happen."

Now it was the general who groaned. "You know what, everyone whose last name isn't Archer, clear the room. I think they need to have a family come-to-Jesus meeting before we can continue."

Chairs sc.r.a.ped the floor and boots shuffled into the hall before the door shut with a firm click.

"So, who wants to go first?" Bada.s.s Aunt Julie asked. "I think Michael's clear on my position as wielder. As in, I am one, and that's the end of it."

Uncle Mike stood in a corner, arms crossed tight and a dejected frown on his face. "I'm worried about you," he said. "That's all."

"I understand that," Julie said. "But you should be worried about all of us, not me in particular. None of us has any idea what I'll be able to do after the knife-spirit latches on for the first time. I might not be able to fly like Matt, but I'll be effective, so you shouldn't worry about me more than any other wielder."

"Fly?" Mom said, shooting me a freaked out look. "That was true?"

I didn't have to answer because Uncle Mike interrupted. "I worry about all the wielders, but I reserve special permission to worry about my family more." He pointed at me. "That means both of you."

"Really?" I muttered. "I got the impression yesterday that you wanted to throw me to the wolves after handing over Parker's knife."

A ringing silence followed.

Mike let out a harsh breath. "Matt, I needed time to get used to what happened. It had nothing to do with you."

"Yeah, right," I said, getting angry. "That glare was for some other reason."

My uncle's expression went somewhere between shocked and irate, but before he could snap back, Mamie burst out, "Uncle Mike, I could tell something was off so I brushed your arm on the way in, to see if I could get a read on what was wrong with you. You blame Matt for bringing the knife to Aunt Julie, and wish he had kept it instead. That's completely unfair. Thing is, you know it's unfair, but you won't admit it, and that sucks."

Given that was the strongest language in Mamie's vocabulary, Mike seemed to realize things were out of hand. He and I stared at each other. Now that I knew what he really thought-that he wished I would take on twice the risk rather than watch his wife have her shot as a wielder-I wondered how my worth to him had eroded so far. Angry tears started p.r.i.c.king the back of my eyeb.a.l.l.s, but I'd go to h.e.l.l on rollerblades before I'd let him see me cry.

"Michael," Mom said, her voice aghast and her eyes wide. "Is that true?"

Uncle Mike blinked rapidly and his chest rose and fell faster than normal. I wasn't the only one close to breaking. He glanced at Julie, who shook her head with a small smile. I couldn't be sure what it meant, but he sank into a chair and wouldn't meet anyone's eye.

She came up behind him and rested her hands on his shoulders. "I think Matt and my knucklehead here need five minutes. I give everyone permission to come back if it sounds like furniture is flying, however." She pointed at me. "So behave, or I'll crack your skulls together."

After they left, we sat there for a while, until the silence treatment got to me.

"You going to talk, or is it pointless?" I asked, embarra.s.sed to hear how my voice wavered. "All I ever wanted was to be just like you. To earn your respect and prove-once and for all-that you see me as a man, an equal. Now I see that's an impossibly high goal."

Uncle Mike sighed. He sounded so tired, but I didn't have any sympathy left. We were all down to the bone and we needed someone to take the high road, to show us how to stand tall in the last mile.

He finally looked up at me. "My reaction yesterday was unfair. I never should've put you in the middle."

I didn't say anything, or offer encouragement, because I didn't want to hear excuses. What I needed, what I'd always needed, was his approval. But unlike when I was younger and trying to prove myself, now I needed to know I wouldn't have to work constantly to keep it. I needed to know it was, and it would stay that way, no matter what.

"To answer your question, I've seen you as a man since Africa. It took me longer than the others to realize it, but I got there in the end."

It took me a long moment to answer. "Then why do you blame me about Aunt Julie? Why did you throw that on my back? I have enough nightmares to suffer through without suffering your disappointment, too."

"Because sometimes grown men make stupid mistakes. I was angry and afraid and needed an outlet. Unfortunately, I went for the closest target, rather than venting it in the right direction, which is at a woman we're going to go see later today. Ann Smythe is the reason Parker died and the knife had to transfer. She's the reason my wife's a wielder now. She's at fault for starting all of this, and I'm going to make sure she pays."

Now that I could get behind. "Can we sic Mamie on her again?"

Mike clapped me on the shoulder. "Why do you think we brought her along? I have to admit, I'm looking forward to the show. Ann's more scared of Mamie than anything and with good reason." He sighed. "Can you forgive me for being stupid?"

There was so much left undone, hating each other wouldn't solve anything. "Yes. Until the next time you're an a.s.shole."

He snorted and gave me a shove. That was so much like what Brent would do, I laughed, which was a relief in its own way.

"Can we call everyone back in?" he asked. "Because I might get demoted if we don't start this meeting soon."

"You have to go out there and invite them in-after begging Mom to join us first," I said. "That's the only way it'll work."

"True story. Okay, I'll go." He stood and went to the door, but stopped with his hand on the k.n.o.b. "For what it's worth, I'm more proud of you than you can imagine. No matter what happens next, I wanted you to know that."

I nodded. "That's why I try so hard. Because I want to earn it."

He smiled. "You already have."

Chapter Ten.

"So," the general said, his loud voice filling the room to almost painful levels. "We've received calls requesting a.s.sistance from fourteen countries, and we expect a few more. Captain Tannen, for now, is still acting as my intelligence officer until we find a replacement. She's been working to triage the most pressing needs."

Aunt Julie brought up the projector and displayed a map from her laptop. Several colored dots pinpointed locations across the world. "Right now, we're a.s.sessing where the greatest threats are. Four wielders can't be in fourteen places at once, and-"

"Five wielders, Captain," Jorge said. "Five."

"Oh," she said, shooting the general a surprised glance. "We thought you might prefer to go back home to Peru to defend the borders there."

"It appears from your map that the only South American country seeing any trouble is Chile. I can go there, if it's of priority. Otherwise, I'll go wherever you a.s.sign me." He smiled at me. "We're a team, and from now on all of us have a responsibility to do our duty."

For good men, Tink whispered, duty isn't a choice.

"Eavesdropper," I whispered back. I knew she'd heard every conversation I'd had since I became a wielder, but these little reminders made her sound like a creeper.

Being incorporeal doesn't afford me many opportunities for entertainment, so I have to amuse myself however I can.

"Jorge, if you're in," Aunt Julie said, "that's a big help. Right now, we've ranked the threats by order of criticality, both by density of population and vitality of monster. Our top five are Vancouver, Marrakech, Budapest, Taipei and Aberdeen."