still he gets a sword.”
“Reg.” Marcus dropped his voice. “You think all this blaspheming may have something to do with you not pulling a sword?”
“No!”
“Okay. Just making an observation.”
“And Buzz?” Reggie spun to Marcus. “Buzz got a sword. Look how pompous and proud Michael looks. I swing my arms off every day and I don’t get one.”
“Today you will.” Marcus calmed her. “You haven’t tried yet. But Reg, if you don’t, don’t feel left out. Come on.” He snickered. “Do you think I’m pulling a sword? I’m no warrior.”
“Marcus,” Michael called him. “Come. Your turn to try.”
Marcus gave a squeeze to Reggie’s arm as he passed her. “I’ll be back to sulk with you.” He smiled at Michael, braced himself and bent down. Sliding the flat stone from the hole, Marcus extended his hand.
Reggie watched and knew the result when the expression on Marcus’ face changed to one of great anxiety. “Marcus?”
“I’m...” He cringed. “I’m sorry, Reg.” He pulled out a silver sword with a broad but reticent grin.
Reggie shrieked. “No!”
“This is pretty cool.” Marcus smiled. “I mean, wow. I really don’t deserve this.”
“Asshole,” said Reggie.
“What did I do?”
“I’m your best friend. Put that back.”
“Reg, I pulled it.”
“I don’t care.”
Michael stepped to her. “Reggie, your turn. Please. So we can begin.”
“Every damn day.” Reggie marched to the hole. “Every day. I come here, bend over, and reach in this stupid hole.” She stuck in her hand. “And... hey.”
Michael smiled. Marcus prepared to clap.
Reggie pulled on the handle and lifted up. “What?” As soon as her arm emerged, she was surrounded with laughter. “What is this?” She held a short gold knife.
“Ah, Reggie.” Michael smiled, impressed. “That is a dagger.”
“A dagger?” She stood up. “A dagger. What the hell, Michael! A dagger? What is this? The feminine version of a sword?”
“Reggie...” Michael tried to speak.
“The petite version. I wasn’t asking for one like you have; I don’t need one that gaudy. But everyone else gets a silver sword and I get a paring knife?”
“It is an honor,” Michael explained.
“It’s embarrassing. Especially when Marcus gets a sword. Marcus is no warrior, but his nerd ass still gets a sword.”
“Hey!” Marcus barked. “At least I got one.”
“Give me that.” Reggie snatched it. “And you.” She swung toward Michael. “Draw up, pal. You’re doing this to me on purpose.”
Michael saw the silver sword come his way; he drew his sword, clanking down on hers to stop it. “Reggie, how clever of you to want to pull a demonstration right now.”
“This is no demonstration.” She brought the sword around.
As he engaged her, Michael instructed loudly for the others to hear. “Remember, defense is the key. When you attack, you will be attacked.” He spoke through each swing. “If you find yourself being challenged, defend. The object is to get your opponent in...” He swung hard, connecting his sword with Reggie’s. Locked blade-to-blade, Michael inhibited her from moving. “…a vulnerable position.” With a rapid lift, he flung away her sword and brought the blade to her throat. “And kill them.” He raised one eyebrow at her and winked.
The roar of clapping was replaced with the loudest thunder ever to cross the sky. It ripped out, vibrating the ground.
Michael looked up. The wind whipped. Black clouds rolled across the sky, streaked with flames and lightning bolts.
“Michael?” Reggie cried out.
“We are safe,” Michael yelled over the noise.
“Safe from what?” Reggie tried to keep her balance as the ground shook. In a transfer of loud, almost unbearable noises, the thunder turned into screams echoing from the sky.
Michael peered up. “Devante is securing what is his. He is taking the souls he has gathered from this earth. Taking them from their bodies, and
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