The summoning array was still pulsing with a faint malignant light when Nero and Vergil landed in the courtyard behind the orphanage. It was far larger and more complex than any of the circles Nero had seen up to this point, and showed no sign of deactivating itself. Portals bubbled continuously at each corner of the yard, with demons of every type crawling through the gates. As one, they turned to focus on the hunters.

Nero stared back at the hordes surrounding them. "This is bad. We need to shut that thing down."

Vergil appraised the layout with a practiced eye. "We must disrupt the power source first."

"The power source?"

"Watch." A sword of crystal blue light manifested above Vergil's shoulder and launched toward the array sprawling across the center of the garden. A hand's breadth above the glowing symbols, the summoned blade shattered. Just at the moment of impact, Nero caught a glimpse of a gossamer web of energy shimmering above the ground. "One of these demons is generating a protective field."

"Okay." Nero swept his eyes across the yard, which was now crawling with dozens of demons. "I don't suppose there's any way to tell which one?"

"Does it matter?" Vergil positioned the Yamato at his side and took a preparatory stance. "We're going to kill them all anyway."

Nero started to say "fair enough," but his lips had scarcely formed the first consonant when Vergil launched into action. He moved almost too fast to see, his passing marked by flashes of arcane light from the Yamato and demons bursting into ash in his wake. "Frickin' showoff," Nero growled. Not to be outdone on his own turf, he lunged forward with Red Queen and laid into a nearby cluster of Hell Cainas.

Normally Nero enjoyed nothing better than to cut loose amid a horde of enemies. He loved the surge of adrenaline, the challenge of a good fight, the chance to stretch his wings—literally, in some cases—and flex the abilities he rarely had opportunity to utilize outside of serious combat. But the joy of this fight was depleted long before it showed any sign of ending. He couldn't fully immerse himself in the thrill of battle when he was constantly watching the orphanage doors and the garden perimeter, and more than once he had to abandon a nearly-defeated enemy to dash after some demon that was clambering up the walls to escape into the city. There was no end to the demons pouring in through the portals, and despite the relatively quick work Vergil made of his area of the courtyard and the severe dent Nero put in the enemies on his side, they apparently still hadn't killed the one demon protecting the summoning sigil.

After they had been fighting for at least a quarter of an hour, Vergil slid to a halt a short distance from Nero. "This grows tedious," he growled. He sheathed the Yamato. "Nero. Hold still."

"Love to, as soon as I'm not—" Nero ducked under the broad blade of a Hell Antenora and rolled to get behind it. "—in danger of being—" He leaped over the next attack and kicked off the blade to flip over the creature's head. "—chopped in half!" As he landed he squeezed Red Queen's throttle and swung upward, knocking the demon off its feet, then executed a spinning slice that bisected the hulk mid-air and finished it with a dramatic downward slash. He landed soft-kneed amid the shower of ash. "There. Now, what'd you have in mind?"

"Don't move." Vergil crouched, his hand hovering near the Yamato.

Nero glanced at the enemies lumbering toward him from all sides. "You know, the last time somebody told me that, Lady launched a missile right at my—"

He never even saw Vergil draw the sword. A wave of power rippled over the courtyard, and in the next instant a thousand blades of light pierced the atmosphere. The very air seemed to splinter and fragment like shattering glass. Before Nero's eyes the demons surrounding them split apart, their bodies separating cleanly along the planes of light. Three of the strokes bracketed Nero, so close to his body that he could feel the distortion in space tugging at his flesh. If he'd taken a single step in any direction, he would have been cut to pieces.

Seconds later it was over, and the air was choked with drifting particulate as the demons began to disintegrate. Vergil wasted no time. He crossed to the summoning array and slashed through it repeatedly with the Yamato. The pulsing light at ground level faded, and the portals at the corners of the yard began to shrink.

Nero finished off a couple of stragglers who had come through the portals just before they closed. When there were no enemies left, he joined Vergil and surveyed the damage to the paving stones beneath the array, which now more closely resembled gravel. "Well, that walking path has certainly learned its lesson."

Vergil flicked an eyebrow. "You wanted the summoning circle disabled, did you not?"

"Yeah. And as a bonus, you disabled the sidewalk, too." He knelt by the remains of the array. Rather than being haphazard slashing as he'd first thought, the cuts in the stone were razor-smooth, and each one neatly bisected an arcane symbol. Vergil's precision was beyond impressive. "You know, I was kinda under the impression that cutting through solid limestone would dull a blade's edge."

Vergil sheathed his sword. "There is nothing in this world nor any other than the Yamato cannot cut."

"So I've noticed." Nero scanned the courtyard for more damage, but while Vergil's world-shattering technique had trimmed a few bushes into unfortunate geometric shapes, it had at least spared the perimeter walls. Satisfied that the orphanage's first line of defense was still intact, he returned his attention to the ground. As before, there were sporadic circles pressed into the dirt surrounding the sticky red-brown markings. "More cane prints, and more demon blood. Every time this guy pulls a stunt, it gets bigger and nastier. I wish I could figure out what the hell he's after."

"Avarice takes many forms, but it can generally be distilled to a desire for power."

"Yeah, I've heard that one before." Nero got to his feet. "I'm gonna head around front and sound the all-clear."

Vergil glanced at the orphanage's back door. "Wouldn't it be simpler to knock?"

"If they've followed protocol, these doors should be locked up tight, and everyone will be in shelter. They'll only hear me if I ring the bell."

Nero led the way back over the high wall and around to the front door. He pulled the bell cord four times to indicate that the danger was over—a signal they'd adapted from the Order's own alarm system, when bells would toll across the city to warn of threats. After a minute, he heard the sound of bolts being drawn back, and the door opened to reveal the anxious face of Sister Gratia. "Nero! Thank you for coming. It's all over?"

"For now. I can't guarantee whoever is summoning these things won't be back. Sister Benedicta around?"

"Come in, and I'll fetch her." Sister Gratia opened the door wider to allow Nero to pass. She gave Vergil a curious look. "Sir?"

"He's with me." Nero glanced back, half inclined to tell Vergil he could wait outside, but abandoned the thought as he saw Vergil's eyes travel up the oversized relief of Sparda that dominated the wall of the lobby opposite the main door. Vergil's mouth twisted in a sardonic near-smile.

Sister Gratia followed Vergil's gaze and completely missed the irony in his expression. "Oh! Are you familiar with our Lord Sparda?"

"I was," Vergil remarked dryly. "In my youth."

Sister Gratia fixed him with a hopeful smile. "It's never too late to return to the fold of the faithful."

"Uh, I'd really like to speak with Sister Benedicta," Nero cut in. The last thing he needed was for Vergil to get involved in a religious debate with someone who had worshiped his father.

"Oh, of course! Wait here." She hurried off toward the dormitories.

Vergil glanced around the rest of the entry, but the relief of Sparda was the only real feature of interest, and his eyes soon returned to it. Nero stared up at the imposing figure. "You know, that carving used to scare the crap out of me when I was little."

"From my understanding, the live version had much the same effect on people."

Nero searched for some emotion underlying the words, but Vergil's face was once again expressionless. "But not you?"

He made a dismissive gesture. "My memories of that time are vague."

"You said you remembered him standing like that when Dante got in trouble, though." Nero nodded toward the relief, which depicted Sparda in the usual stance, hands resting on the pommel of his sword.

Vergil's smirk returned, the temptation to deride his brother overpowering his habitual reserve. "That was a regular occurrence, to the point that Dante assumed he was in trouble any time Father raised his voice." The set of his mouth softened as he shook his head. "I was often told stories about him, but most of my own memories of him are little more than impressions. Images, mostly. I was quite young."

Nero wasn't sure how true that was, considering Zaffiro's memory of his father giving him the Yamato, but perhaps Vergil just preferred not to discuss it—especially if he harbored any resentment toward his father for abandoning their family. Ironically, that feeling was one thing Nero could empathize with. "Images, huh?" Nero looked up at the relief again. "Did he really have horns like that?"

"Not in the family portrait."

Vergil's delivery was so dry Nero couldn't tell if he were being serious or not, but before he could ask anything more, a crowd of children was herded into the lobby from the direction of the dormitories, sisters guiding them toward the supper room like becowled sheepdogs. Despite their guardians' best efforts, two of the children broke off from the unit and dashed toward them. "Nero!" cried Carlo, plowing into Nero's midsection and clinging to his coat. Kyle was right on his heels, and latched on to Nero with just as much fervor.

"Whoa, easy there!" Nero caught Kyle's arms, which had landed dangerously close to Blue Rose's holster, and crouched to eye level to redirect their attention. Neither of them had noticed the giant sword strapped across his back, but it was only a matter of seconds before that became a topic of conversation. "You two know you're supposed to follow the sisters' directions when you're here. You'd better catch up to your group before they leave you behind!"

Kyle shook his head vigorously. "It was scary," he whispered.

"We had to go into the shelter again. The sisters said it was dangerous outside." Carlo's face was pinched with anxiety. "But you got here, so it must be okay now. Can we go home with you?"

Nero smoothed back the boy's rumpled hair. "I'm not going home just yet, kiddo. I have to meet with Sister Benedicta and talk about some boring adult stuff. But everything's fine now. You go on with your group and do your activities, okay? We can talk about it some more tonight, if you want."

Kyle wasn't listening. His eyes were stretched wide. "Is that a sword?"

"And that's something else we'll talk about tonight." Nero turned them by the shoulders and nudged them toward the sister who was waiting to escort them to the next room. "Go on, scoot. I'll see you both later."

Bringing up the rear of the group was Gianna, who had Flavia propped on one hip and both of the little girl's arms locked about her neck. Surprisingly, Scipio was clinging to Gianna's other hand, looking just as distressed as Kyle and Carlo. When Gianna saw Nero, she stopped short. "You—"

"Hey." Nero straightened. "Don't worry, it's handled." He nodded toward Scipio. "Speaking of handling, is it okay for him to be holding your hand? You've still got bandages on."

Gianna glanced down at her brother. "It's fine," she murmured, a whole paragraph summed up in those words. She bent her knees until Flavia's feet touched the floor. "Flavia, you and Scipio go ahead. I need to speak with Nero."

Flavia reluctantly released her hold. "Verrai presto?"

"Sì, quando abbiamo finito di parlare." She sent them after Carlo and Kyle before wincing and flexing her fingers. She wore only light bandages now, but Nero could imagine that the newly-healed flesh was still tender. "What happened? The sisters would not let me go out to see."

"It's a good thing you didn't." Nero checked to make sure the children were out of hearing range before saying more. "A high-level summoning circle with the switch jammed to 'on.' Eighty, maybe a hundred demons inside the fence out back. And they would have just kept coming until this place was overrun."

Gianna's horror showed on her face. "Do you know who did this?"

"Not yet. But from the marks in the dirt, we're pretty sure he uses a cane. Sound like anyone you know?"

Her face fell. "I still can't believe he would endanger the children."

"Nero!" Sister Benedicta's voice rang through the high-ceilinged room, and he turned to see her striding toward them. "Thank the Savior you were here, and not with Kyrie and the others. Oh!" She drew up short as she spotted Vergil, but she regained her composure quickly. Her eyes flicked between the two men. "You must be Nero's father."

Vergil gave a stiff nod. Nero kept the introductions brief. "Vergil, Sister Benedicta. And we might want to move this someplace private."

"Come into my office, then." She led the way to the room and unlocked it. Gianna followed them, but Nero didn't see any reason to prevent her from hearing what he had to say. The headmistress gave her a questioning glance, but followed Nero's lead. "Sister Gratia said you had asked to see me. I presume it's about whatever happened out there."

"Yeah." Nero leaned on the back of one of the chairs facing Sister Benedicta's desk. "You need to keep a full-time watch on that courtyard from now on. I'm starting to lose track of how many times this guy has summoned things, but every time, they get worse. And today's was bad. If both of us hadn't been out there killing demons as fast as they could appear—"

"Both of you?" Sister Benedicta's eyes flicked to Vergil, then slid to the Yamato in his hand. Her brow furrowed. "I see."

"Yeah, the white hair isn't the only thing that runs in the family," Nero said. "My point is, the next step on his summoning staircase might be something that could take down this building with all of you in it, and I may not be able to get here in time. So you have got to keep him from getting one of his circles on the ground. Hire guards to patrol, or put Sister Veritas on watch with a shotgun, or turn the whole damn garden into a swimming pool if you have to. Just keep him out of there."

Sister Benedicta sighed. "We haven't the money to hire guards, and I very much doubt the gates are watertight. Though I suppose the shotgun suggestion has some merit. What about the wards your friend mentioned? Miss… Lady, was it?"

"Wards can be broken," Vergil chimed in unexpectedly. "And they wouldn't impede the kind of array that was used today. Given enough time, someone with that level of arcane knowledge could likely engineer a stable, permanent gate to the underworld if he so wished."

Nero was on the brink of asking how Vergil knew such a thing when he remembered just whom he was dealing with. Perhaps he was better off not plumbing the depths of Vergil's knowledge of underworld-gate mechanics.

Beside Nero, Vergil canted his head suddenly toward the door, and the crease between his brows deepened. Nero glanced back, but Gianna had closed the door behind her when she entered.

"I could help," Gianna said suddenly. "I know how to fight. I could keep watch on the courtyard."

"You could." Nero leveled a look at her. "But if it turns out that your mentor is the one behind all this, could you really do whatever it takes to stop him?"

Gianna averted her eyes. "It can't be him. He always helped me."

Before Nero could counter that statement, there came a hurried knock at the door. "Come," called Sister Benedicta.

The door opened and Sister Gratia leaned in. "Pardon the intrusion, but there is a child at the main entrance who insists on seeing Nero right away. He says it's an emergency."

Sister Benedicta frowned. "Well, which child is it?"

"I don't know," Sister Gratia replied. "He isn't one of our children. I've never seen him before."

"It's Dante." Vergil's eyes were fixed somewhere beyond the door, but it was clear that he was addressing Nero.

A tingle of warning charged Nero's spine. "What the hell's he doing here?" He pushed past Sister Gratia and hurried toward the lobby, aware that the others were following close behind. When he reached the entrance, he saw Rosso engaged in a frantic argument with one of the sisters. Another sister was attempting to hold the boy in place by his arms. "What's going on?"

"Nero!" Rosso shouted as soon as he saw him. He easily shook off the sister's grasp and dashed to meet him. His hair was windblown, his eyes wide and panicked, and a sheen of perspiration glossed his face. He looked terrified. "He took him! Hurry, we gotta go after him!"

"Whoa, slow down. What are you doing here? Where's Julio?"

Rosso shoved a crumpled piece of paper into Nero's hands. "He took him," he repeated. "He took Julio!"

"What?" Nero smoothed out the page. As he read it, the blood drained from his extremities, replaced with an icy fear. "Shit. Shit."

"What's wrong?" Sister Benedicta took the paper from Nero's unresisting fingers and began to read aloud. "Nero—you have defied Lord Sparda long enough. The time has come for you to face divine justice. If you wish to see the boy alive again, come to the place where your treason began. If you do not, the retribution of the True Sword shall fall upon him in your place."

Gianna gasped, one hand going to her mouth in horror. Sister Gratia folded her hands, lifted her eyes to the image of Sparda, and began whispering a prayer. Nero ignored them both and rounded on Rosso. "Tell me everything that happened. Everything you saw."

"We were in the kitchen, and someone came to the door. Someone… something bad. Julio went to look, and then he told me I had to hide, and he put me in the little closet. The man got in the house somehow. I think he was looking for me, but Julio told him I wasn't there. Then I heard shouting, but by the time I got out they were gone, and that was stuck to the door." He pointed to the note, and his eyes abruptly brimmed with tears. "I should have helped. I wanted to help him, but I couldn't get to him in time."

"Never mind that. Did you see who took him?"

Rosso shook his head. "I only heard the man's voice. But he felt bad."

Nero swore again and whirled away. Rosso sniffed and angrily scrubbed a tear from his cheek. Something glittered in his hand, and Vergil caught his wrist. "What's this?"

Rosso opened his hand and let Vergil take the object. "It's what was holding the note to the door."

Vergil examined the item, then held it up to the light. "Nero."

"What?" Nero snapped, then realized Vergil was attempting to show him the coin-sized object. "What is that, some kind of jewelry?"

"A pin of some kind. But this symbol…" Vergil's eyes tracked to the relief of Sparda on the far wall. Behind the Legendary Dark Knight's head was a stylized sunburst—one Nero had seen thousands of times, replicated on the buttons and belt buckles of every Order soldier's uniform, including his own.

Nero took the pin from Vergil's hand and peered at it. "It's a cowl brooch."

Sister Benedicta looked aghast. "You're saying the culprit is among the faithful?"

"Not necessarily. This one is from the Holy Knights' regalia. The dress uniforms had this stupid little fabric drape, right here." He drew a finger across his breastbone. "There was a brooch on each side to hold it in place. But why would anyone…" His eyes widened, and he snatched the letter back from Sister Benedicta. "Hold on. What did this say? Defied Lord Sparda… the place where your treason began. My treason." He began pacing, looking from the letter to the pin. "This brooch has to be part of the message. Whoever this is, they're judging me as one of the Holy Knights."

Sister Gratia broke off her prayer with a look of confusion. "But the Knights served the Order. Why would they call you a traitor for being one of them?"

Nero didn't want to take the time to explain, and Sister Benedicta, who had heard directly from Kyrie the story of her abduction and rescue, saved him the trouble. "It's a complicated situation," the headmistress said. "But that doesn't matter now. What's important is to find Julio."

Nero reread the letter. "The place where my treason began. That must mean the place where I pledged to fight for the Order."

"But you joined the Holy Knights at Credo's request, didn't you?" Sister Benedicta clasped her now-empty hands tightly. "Wouldn't that be your home?"

"If he wanted to meet me at home, he wouldn't have left the note there. He must mean the induction ceremony—and that was held at Order headquarters." He glanced at Vergil. "It's at the other end of the island, and the only road that's still passable follows the coast. It's gonna take us close to an hour to get there. Let's go."

Vergil began to follow Nero toward the door, but halted when Rosso's voice rang out. "I'm coming too!"

"Nothing doing," Nero said, scarcely breaking stride. "You stay put."

"But it's my fault!" Rosso's mouth was set in a stubborn line. "I heard him. He only took Julio because he couldn't find me. If I go with you, he'll let Julio go."

"Absolutely not." Nero turned to deliver this pronouncement and saw Gianna, face pale, slip away from the group toward the back of the building. He returned his attention to Rosso. "And besides, there's no room for you on the bike."

Sister Benedicta stepped forward and put her hands on the boy's shoulders. "Stay with us, child. You'll be safe here."

"I don't want to be safe!" Rosso snapped, breaking free of her grasp. "I want to help! I want to save my friend!"

"Dante." Vergil stepped in front of his brother, who immediately stilled. Vergil bent forward slightly so that their gazes were level. "Your friend is in danger. If you go with us, you'll only divide our attention between the two of you, putting you both at greater risk. If you truly want to be of help, you'll remain here so you aren't a distraction." Rebellion flared in Rosso's eyes until Vergil added, in words so quiet Nero could scarcely make them out, "I need you to remain safe. Understand?"

The boy gave a reluctant nod. Vergil straightened, twirled the Yamato once in his hand, and strode past Nero toward the door. "Let's go."