[Half/Time 01] Half Upon a Time by James Riley Page A

a white liquid that gave off an eerie glow, the source of the light. On top of the glass was a hilt, off of which hung a dark blue scabbard.
    Jack’s throat went dry. The light … it was the Eye’s
sword.
If anything was more feared than an Eye, it was the Eye’s weapon—the source of the knight’s power, cursed to destroy anyone who touched it other than the knight himself.
    Jack tried to say something, but the words wouldn’t come out.
    “My sword,” the knight said simply, as if introducing Jack to it. “Now do you truly think I wish you harm? I had ample opportunity to strike you down in the dark.”
    “Maybe you couldn’t see,” Jack said, his eyes still on the sword.
    “Maybe I
could
,” the knight said.
    Jack shivered. “I’m not touching an Eye’s sword,” he said. “Those things are evil. And cursed. And …
evil
.”
    The man shook his head. “No, they are not. They are tools, nothing more.”
    “They destroy anyone who touches them,” Jack said, staring at the sword.
    “A convenient story to keep thieves at bay,” the man admitted. “But a story is all it is.”
    Jack turned back to the man. “Okay, fine. I’ll take your sword, and then I’ll have all the power or whatever.” He took a step toward it, then turned to look at the Eye again. “You’re just going to let me take it?”
    The knight’s only response was a smile. Creepy.
    Jack sloshed carefully over to the glowing sword. “I still don’t trust you,” he said.
    “You will.”
    Jack stopped. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    But the knight went silent, only watching him.
    Jack kept his eyes fixed on the man while carefully reaching a hand out toward the sword.
    “It won’t hurt you,” the knight said, making Jack jump.
    “Could you be
quiet
, please?” Jack said. “I’m nervous enough as it is!”
    When the man didn’t respond, Jack reached out again for the sword. He flinched as his fingers moved closer, but the liquid within the crystal-clear sword just swirled around and around, not reacting to him at all. Just to test it, Jack barely brushed the tip of his index finger against the hilt, then yanked his hand back.
    Nothing happened.
    The knight didn’t say anything, but Jack imagined him laughing anyway. His anger growing at this entire situation, Jack gritted his teeth, then reached out and grabbed the sword. His hand didn’t burn off, his whole body didn’t turn to dust, and he wasn’t transformed into a frog. In fact, the hilt was even cool to the touch, despite the sword’s glow.
    Jack took the scabbard off the hilt and slung it over his shoulder while he considered his next step.
    “You’ll need to pull it out,” the knight said.
    “I thought you were being quiet,” Jack said, and yanked on the sword.
    It didn’t move.
    He yanked again and again, but the weapon didn’t budge.
    “Was I not clear on the pulling part?” the knight asked. Jack just growled in frustration. This time, he grabbed the sword with both hands and pulled on it as hard as he could.
    The sword suddenly pulled loose, and Jack’s effort threw him backward toward the giant’s throat. He stumbled toward the knight, but the man made no move to grab him. At the last moment, Jack managed to grab a fold in the giant’s cheek, stopping his momentum just enough for him to recover his balance less than a foot from the edge of the throat.
    When he could breathe again, Jack looked at the knight incredulously. “Thanks for the help there!” he shouted, his heart almost bursting through his chest.
    “I told you,” the knight said. “I can’t.”
    Jack nodded bitterly. “That’s about what I’d expect from one of you.”
    The knight tilted his head. “I bear you no ill will, Jack. Remember that.”
    “Oh, really?” Jack said, holding up the sword. “Well, I bear you
plenty
of ill will, buddy. And what makes you think I won’t attack you with your own sword?”
    The smile reappeared, but this time it seemed sad. “It