Page 83 of Heimlock

The Glyridite shrugs. “My husband won’t care. He’ll appreciate the learning lesson. And I love watching a Fire Sprite whoop his tail.”

Impressed, I refocus on the two trading punches. In the time I’ve looked away, he’s apparently landed a punch in her left eye and he has a split lip. Both are breathing hard, foregoing elemental attacks for actual boxing moves. She can’t reach his face, but she uses her wings to gain elevation to do so. Luca lets her, laughing, but not in a mocking way. I think he just enjoys a good fight.

With some silent signal, they take to the air, doing aerial acrobatics. Kyrielle spends half the time avoiding Luca’s tail, hurling fireballs at his chest. He’s shifted to stone form to fly more easily, so the fire leaves only scorch marks.

It’s starting to look like it might also be a tie when Kyrielle’s wing gets hit by Luca’s tail. It’s clearly an accident, by the look on his face, but in his attempt to jerk his tail away, it wrenches the wing. There’s a pop; she screams. Kyrielle’s falling and Luca is rushing to catch her.

The five of us stand, with Orliana crying out in fear, and I can’t breathe. At that height, she could die. Terror for Kyrielle propels me into motion, even though it’ll be too late.

The Gargoyle tucks his wings and drops toward the ground, but he’s too big; too slow.

My body is leaping over the low wall, sprinting toward the Fire Sprite tumbling out of the air. Her eyes are full of fear, arms out in a futile attempt to catch herself. Without thinking, I leap forward, arms out, and use magyck to activate a blast of wind behind me. It shoots me forward faster.

Then Kyrielle’s in my arms, belly first. Using every ounce of strength available, I barely prevent her smashing into the sand. There’s an inch between her face and the ground, with my trembling arms as the buffer.

Her wings fold delicately against her back, except for the top right one. Where the wing meets her shoulder, it’s black and blue already. A severe tear and probably a dislocation.

“Oh, my goddess,” Luca cries out, landing with a resounding boom on the arena floor. He rushes over as I gently lay her down on the sand. Coach Richor is immediately at our side.

“Don’t flip her yet,” he orders.

Carefully, I stand, trying to keep her body steady. Kyrielle’s silent, but her body violently shakes from the undoubted agony.

Coach bends over to look her in the face. “Can you stand?”

“I-I don’t know.” Fear rasps her voice.

As slowly as possible, I tilt her body as he guides her to standing. It’s a careful process to avoid the injured wing and her unusable arm.

Tears streak her dirty face. Knowing how much she wants to have a brave face at all times, I rip off a sliver of my shirt and wipe them away. Our eyes connect; she gives me a small, grateful smile. Minus the expected bumps and bruises from the fight, she’s fine. I exhale with relief.

Coach Richor murmurs, “We need to get the Healing Medic in here.”

“Medic!” Luca screams, looking absolutely distraught. He’s covered in dirt, sweat, and blood. Reverie, Orliana, and Fynn come to his side. Reverie wraps arms around her husband, trying to assure him it’s okay. Orliana’s sobbing, with Fynn’s arms around her.

Kyrielle leans into my chest, clearly exhausted. Using my hands to keep her steady, I watch Healing Medics rush into the arena. All the while, the crowd watches and points at Kyrielle. I hate it for her.

Motioning for Luca to come closer, I say, “Can you block with your wings right now?”

He nods, looking relieved for something to do. To Kyrielle, he says, “I’m so sorry, Kyri. It was an accident.”

She waves away his apology.‌ “I know it was. I don’t blame you at all.”

Healing Medics begin looking Kyrielle over. Coach turns to Orliana and Fynn. “She’s going to need help. Can either of you get her home?”

“I will,” I say abruptly, interrupting Orliana from whatever she was opening her mouth to say. Fynn gives me a lingering, warning look. I ignore it.

Coach, even with a hard-to-decipher face, looks surprised. “You?”

“Yes.”

“It’s fine,” Kyrielle says softly. “Besides, Fynn and Orliana are going out-of-town tomorrow.”

“We can cancel it,” Orliana rushes out.

Fynn finally breaks our stare. “Baby, it’s fine. Trinte can take care of her. Joulian would be devastated if we cancel now.”

Coach looks between the four of us. “Are you all related?”