Breise doesn’t hesitate, using a knife from her belt to cut her arm open—just like she did before. Fantastic. So we’re going to start with magical flying iron spears to the throat?
“On my back. Now.” Taavi shifts into the hulking beast form of the barghest, his feathered tail thrashing, horns gleaming in the strange green glow from the shield above our heads. I don’t hesitate, scrambling up and using fistfuls of his fur to keep my balance.
The iron spear comes crashing down where I was standing, giving Taavi just a split-second to dance out of the way. The other guardian is coming right for us, black claws tearing up bits of grass and clumps of mud as it clears the length of the arena in less than a minute. It launches itself, and Taavi just barely manages to scramble out of the way, maintaining his steady lope toward Breise.
I curl my hands into fists and close my eyes, remembering how easily I was able to draw those lightning bolts from the sky. “Our power is wholly and truly ours; it comes from inside.”
My eyes fly open and I release Taavi’s fur. As if he can sense that I’m no longer holding on, he slows slightly and keeps moving forward. I hold my palms out and then bring them together with a loud clap, sending a bolt of lightning down and directly into the wizard girl.
The sound she makes when it hits her … the smell … I gag and crumble forward, just barely managing to grab onto Taavi’s thick neck as he leaps up and ricochets off the arena wall, avoiding a second strike from Breise’s guardian.
He launches off and sends us flying over her crumpled form, turning back and then planting all four feet in the ground, claws extended. His lips are pulled back in a growl, slaver dripping thick and hot to the grass beneath his paws.
I get his point without even having to hear him speak.
The girl is not dead; keep going.
She lifts a shaking hand up and gives a pathetic sort of wave with her hand, loosing vines from the ground that wrap around my waist and drag me from Taavi’s back. He lets out a scream of rage, tearing at the plants with his teeth. The hellhound crashes into him and the two of them go rolling, leaving me alone to struggle as one of the vines sprouts a thorn as long and sharp as a knife.
Fuck.
I listen to the electric tingle in my body, and even without the use of my limbs, I imagine bringing another bolt of lightning down on the vine. It shrivels up and draws back, releasing me from its thick green coil to land on the ground.
Breise is already back on her feet, stalking toward me with both palms raised in front of her, hands pressed together. Another vine explodes from the ground and plunges right fucking through me.
My vision washes white with pain as my head lolls back and blood bubbles on my lips. It feels like I’m drowning in my own lungs, like I might never get another breath. This is how my family felt, isn’t it? My little sisters, my brother, my grandparents …
Water sloshes around me, ice-cold and black as pitch, filling the arena and lifting me up and away from the tangle of vines. I’m so disoriented that it takes me a moment to realize that I am the one doing this, that I’m calling up the water from my nightmares and unleashing it inside the arena.
Taavi finds me fairly quickly, tearing the vine from my chest as he struggles to keep my head above the water. His long, hot tongue slides from his lips, tasting the blood on my chest and offering a sudden and immediate release from the pain.
“Just as you can’t hold your breath forever, because your body won’t allow you to die … neither will your magic.”
I think about the hole in my chest, about how I can’t possibly win this thing if I’m bleeding to death—even if I can’t technically die from it. My eyes close as Taavi grabs me by the back of the jacket, his powerful legs keeping us afloat in the water as I imagine the hole covering over, the water receding.
Even if it’s an effective weapon, it’s triggering me. Already, I can feel my brain giving into the beginning of a panic attack.
My eyes open as my ass hits solid ground and I see Taavi circling around me, ready to fend off Breise’s hellhound. The hole in my chest is gone, but my jacket is torn, my breasts showing through the rend in the fabric. Small miracles my nipples aren’t exposed.
Gotta take pleasure where I can.
I choke on my own breath, the panic attack creeping up on me, even as I try my old fallback: dry sarcasm and inappropriate humor.
