Page 120 of The Last Syphon

Trying to keep Prince Walder in her sights was next to impossible. The man wouldn’t stop jumping from place to place. Stab. Jump. Slice. Jump. Both his swords were in play, and he used them with deadly accuracy, slicing and hacking into body after body. If she blinked, she missed him. He was there one moment and gone the next, leaving only a bloody mess in his wake as he vanished and reappeared at opposite ends of the room.

Fates fuck it. She desperately wanted to use that ability, but it was not the time. Inara couldn’t risk throwing up and leaving herself vulnerable. She would just have to stick to using her legs. How boring.

Balls of fire, currents of lightning, and sharp wind zoomed all around her. There was a range of different abilities at use, and Inara tried her best to get her bearings.

Running forward, she threw herself into the fight. She ducked and twirled, blades sailing past her body before she would send them flying with powerful concussive forces of her magic. Two men ran at her. She called her shields into place, and they appeared beside the men in the shape of tall walls. She slapped her hands together, and her shields followed the movement, splattering the men into nothing.

Inara wasn’t sure how many enemies there were, but the ground was drenched in blood and body parts. They fought in front of the only exits—three large doors big enough to fit Fraener in his natural form, one behind them, one on the left, and one on the right. It made it impossible for anyone else to make their escape. At the opposite end of the hall, she saw the citizens who were in attendance being protected by a shield that spanned one end of the room to the other. Over a dozen Shielders stood just behind it, maintaining the barrier and protecting them. They were pooling their energy, creating one large shield that Inara was sure was stronger than any shield they could conjure on their own.

Inara, Prince Walder, and several members of his Elite Guard continued to fight, cutting down the enemy one by one while Fraener and Tydus circled above, snatching people off their feet. By the end, only one remained, and Inara had him locked in her sights.

The adrenaline of battle beat in her veins. Hammered in her chest. She was exhausted, her magic close to its reserves, but she was determined to get to the bottom of this.

The man was tall, with a stocky build and light grey hair. Older—at least in his fifties—and he wore a dark green tunic that screamed coin. He was crouched slightly, blade up in a reverse grip, eyeing her down. The man looked at the dragons circling overhead, at Prince Walder and his Elite Guard at her back, and decided to cut his losses.

He spun and ran for the exit.

He wasn’t getting away that easily.

Inara slammed a shield up, encompassing the entire door and preventing his escape. He skidded to a stop, cursed, and bolted for the door on the right. Inara did the same thing, blocking that exit, too. He made one last-ditch effort for the last door, but she’d anticipated that, a shield already firmly in place.

The man panted heavily, his frightened gaze whipping from door to door. With nowhere to go, his death was imminent. He knew it. But before he died, Inara would get some fucking answers.

“Who sent you?” she called out.

Prince Walder and his Elite Guard, six members, approached from behind her. She didn’t turn, keeping her enemy locked firmly within her sights.

The man stayed silent. Simply stared her down, almost challenging her to try to beat the answers out of him.

She raised her hand out to her side, palm facing upwards. Inara pictured in her mind what she wanted her magic to do, and like always, it rushed to obey. Her shield took shape in the form of arrowheads—small, sharp, golden projectiles. Four of them hovered above her open palm.

“Who. Sent. You?” she asked again, fury dripping from her voice.

Fear flickered in his eyes, but again, he did not answer.

Inara sent one of the projectiles flying. It shot forwards at unimaginable speed and pierced his thigh. He screamed, dropping to the floor and clutching his now-bleeding leg.

“Who sent you?”

“Go fuck yourself!”

This time, she sent two hurtling towards him. One slammed into his shoulder, and the other his arm.

“Ahhhh!” he cried out.

“Sure you don’t want to answer me?” she asked coldly. She used slight movements of her fingers to twist the golden arrowhead floating in the air. The man’s terrified gaze stayed locked on it. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his chest rising and falling with every painful breath.

“You insolent bitch!” he spat. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with!”

Inara sent the last projectile flying. It pierced the centre of his chest. He roared in agony. She was careful to avoid his heart. She didn’t want him to die before the best part.

“This is your last warning.” Darkness filled her soul. She raised her hands up in front of herself, her fingers just out of reach of one another. “Tell me who fucking sent you.”

He laughed. It was a sickening sound—like something from a deranged, crazy individual. It made Inara want to shiver. “The age of kingdoms is over,” he hissed before coughing up a mountain of blood. “The true one will rise, and with it, the end of everything. The end of you and everyone you love.”

No one threatened the people Inara loved and fucking lived.

She twisted her hands.