Slade considers me for a moment.
“Are you sure, Fury?”
“I’m sure.”
I may have tried to kill Slade, but I sense the trust he places in me.
His arms loosen around Vanguard’s neck before he steps back, leaving Vanguard to lurch forward onto his hands and knees. The serpent coughs into the cold powder before drawing himself back up to his knees.
Burn marks around Vanguard’s throat reveal how close Slade came to using his killing power—a dangerous possibility if it meant he’d break the assassin’s code.
Striker has risen to his feet and now approaches my back, his emotions closed off again, although he remains a few steps behind me and seems to be keeping Jonah in his sights.
The volcano man—which is what I’m going to call Jonah since I still don’t have an exact name for his power—shows signs of regaining consciousness, groaning quietly into the snow.
Vanguard leans back on his heels but remains kneeling in the ice, a non-threatening position.
“How many of the bones do you have?” I ask him.
“All three,” he replies, which is both a relief and a cause for concern because it gives Vanguard real bargaining power.
“My master doesn’t yet know that I found them,” he continues. “I have a very small window of time in which to act before he finds out.”
I narrow my eyes. “Act… how?”
“I wish to trade them,” he says. “I will give them to you, Fury.”
“In exchange for what?”
“Entry into the maze.”
Vanguard’s statement makes Slade tense.
My sisters told me about the secret realm known only asthe maze. It’s an ancient place and impossible to enter. They said there was a whisper that, somehow, Slade and Hunter found a way in.
Vanguard’s gaze doesn’t waver from me, although he must be aware that Slade is the one with the power to give him what he’s asking for. “Get me into the maze, and I’ll give you the bones.”
I don’t need to look at Slade to read his emotions: he’s worried.
“What are these bones he’s talking about?” Slade asks.
“Do you recall the White Wand?” I reply.
Slade nods. “Striker destroyed it.”
I risk taking my eyes off Vanguard to turn to Striker, once again fighting the memory of the way he’d burned the bone against his heart.
My voice is strained as I say, “Well, it turns out there was more than one. In fact, there are three more.”
“Three!” Striker’s reaction hits me hard, a sudden rush of dismay and fear before he cuts it off. He knows firsthand the damage a single bone can do.
“I found out about them two weeks ago,” I say. “I heard that Vanguard was looking for them, so I decided to hunt Vanguard. The bones must not be allowed to fall into the wrong hands. They must be collected and destroyed at all costs.”
Slade shakes his head. “But to give him access to the maze is also dangerous. That place contains mythical creatures and magical objects that should never be freed.”
Before I can respond, Slade turns to Vanguard with a harsh demand. “What do you want with the maze?”
Vanguard’s voice is quieter, and I sense a sudden sadness drifting through his thoughts. “I was there when it was first created,” he says. “I was forced to leave behind something very important to me. Until I heard rumors that you had gained access to it, I thought there was no hope of going back. All I ask is that you get me in. My survival after that is up to me.”
