Page 120 of Reap & Sow

Eda brought it down again.

Crack.

She raised the hammer a third time.

Her head was rammed into stone. The world exploded. Eda saw stars. Pain burst like fire through her skull and she sagged, gasping. For a moment she had no idea where she was. The demon hauled her around.

That beautiful face was melting—her ear, her jaw, the corner of her red mouth. Ben was on the ground, coughing. His sword lay discarded across the room.

Claws dug into Eda’s scalp. She flailed desperately, lashed out with the hammer. It was knocked aside with a hiss. Suddenly, everything was a great blur as she was thrown afar like a rag doll. She hit the ground hard and coughed. Tried to roll to her knees. The chisel. The hammer. Where…

A foot kicked her back down, pressed into her chest. Eda’s eyes swam with tears. The world wavered like a mirage, all shapes and colors. She grabbed at the demon’s ankle, nails digging in as she fought to keep the weight off her ribs, but the demoness only pressed harder.

She was trembling in visible pain above Eda, panting and wild-eyed. She looked spooked. As though it hadn’t occurred to her that two mortals might injure her so badly.

You’ll not be so arrogant next time, you bitch, Eda wanted to say, but she could not breathe.

“Enough,” the demoness hissed. In her hand, a small ball of flame burst to life. Eda stopped struggling. “You dare to think yourself my equal? You’ll die burning!”

Ben scrambled for his sword.

He won’t reach me, Eda thought with numb terror. She’ll burn me alive. She’s going to. I’m going to die. She’d thought herself so brave when talking about facing death to Kit. Now that hers was finally here, she was made stupid by the fear of it.

Crack.

Everyone froze. The demon’s head snapped around—Eda followed her gaze.

Tripp sat curled about the top of the mirror. He’d wrapped a small piece of his tunic around his fist like a glove, and within it…

He held the chisel high. “Go back through, your ladyship, or be trapped here for good.”

The demoness cried out and leaped for the mirror. Tripp almost looked ashamed of himself when he brought the chisel down.

With a great splintering noise, the stone exploded in a shower of black smoke. Eda covered her head. Fragments pelted her back, her arms, her legs. It was as though a great storm passed over them—a door thrown open in a gale. For a moment she couldn’t hear herself think for the howl of raw magic, overwhelming as it burst free from ancient bonds.

Just as quickly, it was over. Everything fell still.

Eda raised her head to look.

Less than half the mirror remained, jagged as a mountaintop. All around the room, tiny pieces of obsidian lay about like so much rubble. And among the mess a bloody, severed tail lay like a grotesque snake, the cut as clean as a surgeon’s. The demoness had gone back through. Barely.

Ben wheezed in shock. He was dusty, his lip split and mouth bruised. Eda surely looked no better. They stared at one another.

Something tapped her knee.

Tripp peered up at her with an expression approaching concern. “We cannot stay. The menfolk here—”

When she wrapped her arms around him and pressed her wet cheeks to his bony little shoulder, she expected another smack. To her surprise, Tripp only made a low sound of displeasure. He patted her head gingerly, as though she were a mangy dog. “Do not weep. It is unbecoming.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Again.”

He tugged on her hair. Eda drew back. “I hear the humans gathering, my lady. We must go.”

Stiff with pain, they pulled themselves to their feet. Eda snatched a chunk of obsidian before they fled up the staircase.

Proof.

Thirty-one