Page 129 of Reap & Sow

“So is Kit!”

“I know.” She turned to Tenelle, who was leaning heavily on the young Blade beside her. “Can you cover me?”

“Yes, but do it fast. The alchemists are tiring.”

She was right. Overhead, the two blue-clad figures were visibly stooped and pale-faced, their mouths moving sluggishly over whispered words. The runner across the dais had been rucked up in the struggle, and the glowing lines were dim and fluttering like a dying firefly. If Baelion chose to flee, they’d never get this chance again. Lawrie would die.

Eda grabbed Ben’s hand. “Help me.”

He nodded. “Always.”

They ran.

Baelion’s head snapped up. He made for them, but a barrage of silver-tipped arrows cut him off. Kit grabbed him by the horn and yanked him back. Baelion roared. Twisting, he drove his claws into Kit’s gut. The younger demon stumbled, clutched at his stomach. Blood ran.

No! Eda nearly tripped. They were at the Gateway, but she could hardly remember why. All she could see was Baelion slamming Kit to the floor. The glyph fluttered.

Don’t look. Don’t look at him. Focus on the mirror.

“Eda,” Ben was saying. “Here, quick.” He took the chisel and hammer, gave her his sword in return. She took it with numb fingers.

Kit’s tail whipped in a frenzy. He bared bloody fangs as his brother choked him, blood welling beneath sharp claws. He shuddered between forms, but Baelion squeezed harder, and none took.

The elder demon’s hair fell in a tangled curtain of silk as he bent low over Kit, grinning. “Live like a mortal if you wish, Kit’rath, and die like one.”

With a cold stab, Eda realized that Baelion held one of the silver-headed arrows. He raised it above Kit’s heart.

She did not think. She ran.

Eda never knew how heavy a sword could be until she was finally lifting one above her shoulder. Muscles screamed. Pain rattled her very bones. But the burden was lighter than her desperation. With a cry, she brought the sword down.

Baelion twisted to face her. Eyes flashed.

He dropped the arrow and knocked the sword from her hand. Eda knew he would, for she couldn’t possibly hope to surprise him twice. He swiped his tail under her legs and sent her crashing to the ground. She gasped, stunned. Baelion barely looked at her before turning back to his brother.

She’d bought Kit a mere moment.

It was enough.

Kit’s arm swung upward. Baelion jerked.

The world seemed to slow. Everything passed through molasses as Eda spotted the silver arrow protruding from the side of Baelion’s neck. Kit bared his fangs and twisted it. Fresh blood spurted forth.

Baelion choked—a horrid wet sound. He reared, stumbled to his feet. Clutching the arrow, he tore it free with a garbled roar.

Crack.

Eda twisted to look.

Ben stood by the Gateway, hammer raised high.

Baelion’s eyes widened. “You—vhesan isak—” He spat blood.

Crack.

Baelion lurched with a snarl, trying to reach the mirror before his world, the very source of his power, was lost to him forever.

CRACK.