Sword of Dreams (The Reforged Trilogy) by Erica Lindquist, Aron Christensen Page B

wiped a sheen of sweat from her forehead. Harrell stood in the door of the office, curiosity on his ugly face.
    "What did he want?" Harrell asked.
    "If you weren't already listening in, then you're as stupid as you look. Go take my secretary home. I'm not in the mood for him anymore," Alexa said.
    Harrell inclined his head. "Yes, Miss Carmine."
    ________
     
    Coldhand had risen early, after only a few hours of sleep. When he was done speaking to Alexa Carmine, he put in a call to the CWAAF router on Axis, requesting similar information. A business-like young private verified the bounty hunter's clearance and promised to get back to him soon. Coldhand sent a message to the Stray police, too, but it went straight into an automated file collection. He did not expect any information back from them, but doubted that he needed any.
    It was all only verification, anyway. Carmine had confirmed his theory. The Cult of Nihil had gone to Prianus. Three hundred quiet Arcadians with the money to fly out to the edge of CWA space? It had to be the Cult of Nihil. Still, Coldhand was curious where the money came from. The crooked, patchwork cathedral in Gharib did not exactly conjure images of vast wealth.
    There was something else. The Mirran Emberguard who had taken a younger Logan's hand and heart in battle one cold, frozen night…
    The Nihilists have been on Prianus before. Now they're going back.
    It made sense. The Alliance chased Gavriel off Stray, so he was retreating to old and familiar territory.
    While he waited for information from Axis, Coldhand ordered the fuel and water he would need to make the flight to Prianus. Twenty days in the cockpit of his Raptor was going to be uncomfortable, but finding a larger ship to make the journey would take too long. It was already hours past dawn and Logan wanted no more delays.
    It did not take long to order everything he needed for the flight and even less time to pack up the handful of scattered clothing, datadexes and his Talon-9. Logan held the gun, feeling the weight of it in his mismatched hands. The Talon was huge and heavy. It weighed twice as much as a similar weapon manufactured anywhere else in the galaxy. Prian construction was sturdy, but no one could accuse it of being stylish or sleek.
    Deep scratches scarred the length of the Talon's barrel, a long and violent history etched in a primitive script that only he could read. Coldhand traced his fingers over three parallel grooves. They were shallow and rough at the edges. Those were left by Orphia, Tiberius' aging hawk, back in Gharib as Coldhand circled Maeve in the hold of the Blue Phoenix.
    Maeve was trying to bait me into killing her then, he remembered. She tried to trick me .
    She never succeeded, of course, but the attempt was admirable. Maeve poured more effort and passion into death than most people put into life.
    Logan turned his Talon-9 over. A single deep line sliced straight and clean along the back end of the refraction barrel, from the sight and down almost to the stock. Unlike the marks left by Orphia's curved talons, this cut was deep and smooth. Maeve had left that scar on the first battle, a single overhead blow from her glass-headed spear. On that first day, the small, skinny Arcadian princess had seemed so sick and strung out on chems… How could she be any kind of challenge?
    Underestimating Maeve almost cost me another hand.
    Logan held the Talon in his illonium hand and flexed the good one. A stark white scar ran down the back of his hand where Maeve's spear had grazed him. Only a cool head and fast reflexes had kept the glass blade from sheering away everything past his thumb.
    They were not the only scars Maeve had left. She was a skilled warrior and a wily mark. Not for the first time, Coldhand found himself wondering where she was. Maeve had not put out a new bounty on herself, Logan knew. He checked frequently. Had she finally tired of trying to taunt death – her Nameless goddess – into taking