Right now, I couldn't think of another way to get the sword back into my inventory. The trick I'd used before was more or less wrecked. And even if it hadn't been, I wasn't sure I wanted her in there, not with the one already inside rampaging around and eating almost every damn thing I owned.
Which meant she was dangerous out here, loose and unsheathed in the dark.
"Listen. I know your mother. She and I are great friends, okay?"
The blade answered with a hostile silvery sheen, faint against the black, as if it were cursing me out in a language made of light.
I hissed at it and grabbed it by the hilt.
"At least you can't bend your blade!"
She couldn't, no, but she fought me anyway, the hilt cold and slick and forever trying to twist out of my fist as she strained to tear free or angle her point back toward my throat. Every time she turned, I turned with her, and for a while the two of us stayed locked in that odd, shuffling dance across the dark ground.
