There was a sharp rap on the door, and Bliss noticed how both her parents jumped at the sound. Forsyth took a quick step and looked through the keyhole. “It’s all right,” he declared, unlocking the door. A stern, elegant woman with a white streak in her raven hair strode into the room, followed by two servants. Bliss had always been a little afraid of Warden Cutler. The Elder had been the one who had probed her mind for Silver Blood corruption. She still remembered the disquieting feeling of being judged. “Where is the Watcher?” Nan Cutler asked. BobiAnne indicated the bundle at the far end of the room. “You’ve put her in stasis?” Forsyth nodded. “Yes. It’s going to be a long time until she wakes up.”
“We found her with this,” BobiAnne said, handing Jordan’s weapon to the Warden.
“We need to find a way to destroy it; it’s too dangerous for us to use,” Forsyth said. “I thought that spell was enough to hold it in the vault, but obviously she was able to disarm it. She’s too clever by half.”
“If there is a way to destroy it,” Nan said. “It’s not susceptible to the Black Fire.”
“You will be able to manage?” Forsyth asked.
“You won’t be followed?” BobiAnne wanted to know.
Bliss watched as the grim-faced Warden shook her head. “No, we will not be followed. We will make sure of that. It is amazing she waited this long, really, to make her move. But do not worry, I will make certain that she is no longer a threat to us.” She looked with disdain in the direction of the comforter. “Cordelia Van Alen was weak minded as usual to think sending the Watcher into your family would solve anything.”
“She suspected, then?” BobiAnne asked.
“Of course she suspected,” Forsyth snapped. “You don’t give her enough credit, Nan. That bird was sharp. She knew something was up.”
“A pity her little assassin was as ineffectual as she was, then.” Nan signaled, and her servants picked up the bundle and left the room.
Bliss had no idea what they were talking about, but was desperate to find out. What did Cordelia Van Alen suspect?
“We have to hurry,” BobiAnne said to her husband. “The dinner starts in an hour.”
Forsyth nodded.
“What’s going on? Where are you going?” Bliss asked, fighting tears of frustration. “Where are they taking Jordan?” She wondered what had sparked her little sister to do something so crazy. But her parents refused to explain or tell her anything more than the cryptic comments they’d made.
They left for the big dinner at the Almeidas’, as if nothing at all had happened. BobiAnne even told Bliss she could order anything she wanted off the room-service menu.
She had to accept it.
Jordan was gone.
Her younger sister, who used to follow her around, trying to emulate her every move. At five Jordan had wanted big curly hair like her sister, and forced the maids to use a curling iron on her stubbornly straight locks, so that her hair would resemble her sister’s. Jordan, who had called her “Biss” when she was a baby because she couldn’t pronounce her name correctly. Jordan, who’d offered her chocolate and comfort just the other day. Bliss found that there were tears in her eyes.
Bliss understood that she would never see Jordan again.
Why these tears? A low, sympathetic voice asked.
I’m sad.
Jordan tried to hurt Bliss.
I know. But she was my sister. My friend.
What kind of friend brings pain?
Bliss suddenly remembered how she’d felt as if she were being torn in two. She’d experienced more pain than she had ever felt in her life. Jordan had done that. She had aimed for the heart. She’d tried to kill Bliss with that weapon—something bright and golden, like a sword.
But it was different from the sword her father kept in his study. The sword Forsyth had used during the attack at the Repository—when the Silver Blood had killed Priscilla Dupont—was a dull yellow gold. The blade Jordan had used emanated a bright white light.
Nan Cutler had said it couldn’t be destroyed, and Bliss suddenly remembered Mimi’s words: the Blade of Justice was missing. Did her father have Michael’s sword? The only thing in the world that could kill Lucifer? The Archangel’s sword? And if so, why had Jordan used it against her? Bliss felt a pounding headache coming on.
I didn’t have a choice, her sister had said that afternoon.
Why not?
Bliss gradually stopped feeling so sorry for Jordan. She began to feel glad that they had taken her away. Wherever they’d taken her, Jordan deserved to be there. Bliss hoped it was a dark, deep dungeon where Jordan could think for eternity on her crimes.