by Alix Sharpe
The fire in his palm wavered, shifting in the slight breeze. Here he was, conjuring pathetic pissing-contest embers, wasting the amulet’s Salamander power. It was sacrilege abusing it like that. This type of magic existed for one reason: to fight.
There was only one way the Castle stood a chance against those Elves, and that was her. Not Captain Quintana. Not the Mage. Not even a soldier of The Realm. The only person who could win that battle was Angie, the Arsonist. The fierce, fearless woman, unbound by rules, and morals, and law. The woman with flames untamed.
A massive grin spread across Kyle’s face as he pushed a little more heat into the fire in his fist. Then he lobbed it straight ahead, off into the blackness of night, intentionally just missing Merlena’s stupid, blue head.
The gargantuan Mage leapt in surprise, tumbling on her heels. She flew face-first into the hard-pack dirt, landing with a satisfying thud. She wheezed, scrambling to right herself. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Kyle drew his blade.
“HELP!” she squealed, stumbling as she tried to stand, high heels sinking in the mud.
“Shut the hell up,” Kyle said, diving closer. He pressed the blade to her chin. “Do you want the Elves to hear us? I won’t hurt you if you don’t try anything stupid.”
She clamped her mouth shut, eyes focused on his knife, and nodded.
“Good. Now do exactly as I say…”
CHAPTER 19 – ANGELINE
The hulking Elves filed into the hall calmly, like shadows rolling in before the storm. They didn’t even have their swords raised. They knew how fucked this was, like slaughtering day-old kittens. Angeline’s entire body prickled.
Then their leader entered, a foot taller than the rest, and twice as thick. Stature aside, the sickening, shining scars, served as an overt indicator of his rank: triple stripes raggedly carved into his shoulders… As did the satisfied smirk curling on his putrid, gray lips, the look of a predator simply toying with his prey.
He swaggered to the front of the hall, narrowed, piercing eyes fixed on her and Pallas. The demon cocked his head to the side, his icy smile spreading at the blatant fear burning on their faces.
Angeline broke from his stare and quickly scanned the mass of Elves lining the hall. A couple dozen were missing, probably staked outside or searching the Castle. She didn’t know about the others, but every single Elf in that hall donned a visible gold chain. Some of them even bore their amulets in plain sight. Green. They all had green. Inverted fire, stolen from fallen Salamanders in the field.
Pallas widened her eyes, nodding subtly at Angeline. She needed her to break the amulets, now. They couldn’t let them get the others.
Pallas took her arms off the podium and stood as tall as she could, her voice strong as she addressed the high Elf. “As Arch-Master of The Realm, I surrender this Castle.”
The Elf, tilted his head further sideways, yellow eyes glinting with amusement. “Allll surrender? No hide. No runnn.”
Pallas took a deep breath and nodded at Angeline once more. “Yes, we understand.”
A knot caught in Angeline’s throat. They had to do this, they had to destroy the amulets. There’d be panic. The moment she shattered the pendants of the Mages, the illusions would fall. She’d have to do the Diviners first, spare them, so that they would not See what the Elves would do to them next.
The knot swelled, constricting tighter, her breath coming short. What was she thinking? It’s not like the kids needed their Sight to know what was about to happen. With the Elves right in front of them, cruelty radiating in those yellow eyes, even the most innocent among them would understand. Magic or not, these young soldiers would die.
They were fucked either way. All she could do, was make sure the Elves didn’t get their wretched claws on the amulets.
Angeline took a deep breath and flicked her wrist without even raising her arm. The shockwave pulsed outward from her palm. The sound of cracking glass echoed all around. Clusters of young Diviners and Mages materialized before them, the Mage’s illusions shattered along with their amulets.
“We lay down our arms,” Pallas said, ripping her gaze from Angeline.
Confused, terrified faces turned, silently scanning the room, crumbling under the vicious jaundiced gazes of the massive Elves towering over them. A handful of Elves and their swords was all it took to guide the defenseless kids from the hall and out of sight. Their leader let out a short, gurgling laugh.
Angeline turned as he tugged at a chain around his neck. She raised her palms, knowing full-well he was about to show her a tainted amulet. If he decided to use whatever bastard powers he’d created, she’d be ready to rip him in half.
The pendant slid from under his leathers, dangling from his fist. Orange. Angeline’s stomach twisted. A small hope had tricked her into believing it might be green, at least then she’d know what it did, but this one wouldn’t wield the power of water. This was something else, and judging by the demon’s jagged smirk, this one was far more powerful.
“Showww the others,” he said, gaze narrowing.
A petrified tingle shot up Angeline’s spine. How had he known? It had been a split-second decision, a delusional hope that they might somehow gain the advantage this way. She’d only broken half the amulets. The other half were still safely hidden. Or so she thought.
The orange amulet, it had told him somehow. Wait. Red to green. Blue to orange. Inverted powers, complementary colors. His was a twisted Mage’s pendant. But what were the tenants of its magic? What was a Mage’s power turned inside out? She had to know, she had to get him to betray its secrets. It was the only way they stood a chance. How did he know they were still there?
“You see now, Mage,” the Elf grinned, revealing his triple staggered fangs, “I feel them. Bring them out. Do NOT break the glasssss.” His hand fell to the hilt of his sword.
Angeline’s jaw tensed. She had to do it. They were all going to die either way. At least this way the Elves wouldn’t get the amulets. She glared up at the glinting yellow eyes, locked on her, threatening. Coercing.
…Bluffing.
If the Elf could really feel the remaining Diviners and Mages, why didn’t he just grab them and pull them out of the masking illusions? Maybe he couldn’t actually feel them, or at least, not strongly enough to locate them. He knew they were there but not where. The Elf was new to his twisted, dark magic, just like her rookie soldiers. She swallowed. Hopefully he was as cocky as them too.
“Why do you want the amulets?” Angeline spat, her muscles flexed and primed to dodge at the slightest movement.
“I shaaall show you,” he cackled. “Reveal the othersss.”
“Why do you need me to reveal them?” Angeline snarled, lip curled, “I thought you could feel them?”
“Inssssolence,” he growled, sliding his sword menacingly from his sheath. He raised the blade to Angeline’s throat. “Bring me a pendant of blaaaack.”
‘Break them. Mine as well.’ Angeline nearly leapt at the sound of Pallas’s voice, whispering inside her head, but thanks to years of training, she managed to quell any signs of surprise.
‘It is the only way.’ Her Master continued.
‘I can’t.’ Angeline thought. ‘I’m not taking your magic, Master. YOU are the only chance we have.’
“MOOOVE,” the Elf Captain growled, shoving Angeline aside. He lunged for Pallas.
‘NOW,’ Pallas begged, ripping her own amulet from her neck.
Angeline froze. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t surrender.
The Elf snatched at Pallas’s outstretched arm.
Pallas threw the necklace.
It landed at Angeline’s feet. Unharmed.
Pallas’s eyes went wide.
The Elf turned and dove for the amulet, knocking Pallas to the floor.
Angeline swung her leg and kicked the necklace across the room. It shattered against the brick wall.
“YOU SHAAALL PAY,” the Elf charged at
Angeline.
Angeline clenched her teeth and ignited her Mage magic, throwing up an illusion of invisibility all around her.
The beast swung in her direction. She ducked and crouched down low.
He roared with rage.
She had to move. The span of her illusion was only a few feet wide. She cast another right next to it, and rolled away from the Elf. She popped up and silently turned toward him.
He kicked wildly at the spot she’d just stood.
As she suspected. He couldn’t pinpoint her. The illusions couldn’t move with her, but if she kept up this shell game, she might be able to dodge him long enough to get the advantage.
But first she had to help Pallas, unmoving behind the podium. She had to get to her.
“Fiiine,” the Elf said, voice suddenly eerily calm. His sickening grin twisting onto those blackened lips once more. “Flood them.”
Shit.
A low rumble of bestial chuckles reverberated through the hall.
Angeline cast a few more masking illusions and silently darted along them toward Pallas, keeping her eyes trained on the Elves. In unison they raised their claws, the hum of magic crackled through the air.
Angeline knelt down by the fallen Master and checked her pulse. It thrummed back faintly against her fingers.
Then a drop fell to the fallen woman’s hollowed cheek. Then another.
Angeline lifted her gaze to the ceiling. The drips turned to trickles before her eyes, ribbons of water manifesting from above, streaming down to the stone floor. Then more.
In an instant, Angeline’s knees were soaked through, an inch of water at least, and rising rapidly. She expanded her illusion around Pallas and lifted the frail woman from the ground. Sitting her upright, she leaned her against the podium. Angeline cast a separate illusion around Pallas and backed away.
She looked down in horror. The water, dipped and swirled around Pallas’s hidden form. Her eyes darted around the room, to the spots she knew the others hid. Little divots and bubbles rippled where she knew they stood. The Elves would soon find them all. If they didn’t drown them first.
Angeline swallowed hard. She had to fight. Alone. Without an army at her side. She had to be like Kallen. Like Kyle.
Fear pulsed up through her veins. To fight, with no one to watch his back, to still try to set this world straight. To be alone… truly alone. He was so far from a coward.
What she would give to take back what she’d said…
She swallowed, she shouldn’t be thinking about that. She had to focus on the fight. She had magic again. She could do this. She’d never faced this many Elves, not by a long shot, not even with her soldiers. But she was quick enough, and they were distracted. She had to try. With a steadying breath, she raised her arms, and unleashed the typhoon of her Mage wrath.
A gust of blue light shot from her palms straight down the entire length of the hall. Her muscles raged as she stole every single Elven sword from its sheath. Her power flashed, glinting off the flying blades as she swung every last weapon toward its owner’s throat. The razors sliced, the first hint of Elven blood—
A blast of orange blazed.
Angeline ducked.
The scores of hijacked swords clattered to the ground, her spell broken.
She whipped her hands up and reached for the weapons again, but the swords… they wouldn’t lift. An orange halo burned, shimmering through the air, glinting off the swelling water.
A shrill, vile cackle echoed off the walls.
Angeline jerked around to face the Elven leader, his head thrown back in amusement, palms raised. Wisps of magical residue floated down his arms. Orange.
“You controlll objectsss,” he said, composing himself. He took a step forward, turning his head left then right, clearly speaking to Angeline. “I controllll MAGIC, Mage. I blocked Diviner Sight, nowww I BREAK you.”
Angeline’s heart stopped, the blood freezing in her veins. She clutched at the amulet at her chest. The glass felt different under her fingers, wrong. Cold. Dead. Broken. Her eyes dropped to her outstretched arm. Her illusion had fallen.
She was powerless again.
The Elf turned straight toward her, cruel, taunting malice bleeding through. He’d been waiting for her to cast a spell like that, a strong pulse of magic to betray her location.
He nodded towards his soldiers. They raised their arms and continued to swell the tumid, icy swamp.
The Elf brought his gaze back to Angeline and began trudging across the rising tide straight towards her.
Angeline started to back away, the bitter water climbing up her calves.
The Elf rapidly closed the distance, long strides destroying the space between them, grin growing with each sure step.
The rain above came down harder, matting her hair to her cheeks, water now above her knees, slapping at her thighs.
The monster reached her, silvery blade sliding from his hip.
Lightning shot through her limbs, muscle fibers igniting. She kicked.
The sword flew from the Elf’s grasp and splashed down, 10 feet away.
Before the beast could react, she landed two more blows. One to the throat.
One to crack his amulet.
The Elf’s yellow eyes ignited in incandescent rage as the orange shards of glass fell from the golden setting. His fists flashed.
Angeline felt a blow to her skull, the breath ripped from her lungs. Her world suddenly lay enveloped in dark water, her body pinned to the ocean floor, her eyes unable to open against the cutting abyss.
A jet of bubbles erupted from her throat in a silent scream. She threw her arms behind her back, clawing at the weight crushing against her ribs. A boot. It wouldn’t budge. She’d never fought underwater; her training was no use now. She had nothing.
Not even that smart-mouth Salamander. Kyle. If he were there, he’d ask what the fuck she was doing. If he were there, she wouldn’t let him mock her… she would fight. For him.
Stinging cold assaulted her sight as she tried once again to open her eyes. She couldn’t see a thing. Nothing but blurs and shadows. She squirmed, throwing her full strength into her limbs, twisting, grappling for air. Her arms grew heavy as the oxygen dissipated from her blood, head clouded, vision going black. Just as her eyelids were about to slide shut for what she knew would be the last time, she spotted something. A flash of red and gold.
CHAPTER 20 – KYLE
Branches tore at Kyle’s body as he ripped through the trees. His leg muscles burned. Good thing the Captain ran him good those past few days, he felt strong as hell. And hell had better be strong enough. He’d had that blue hag teleport his amulet back to Angeline, and he was about to join them. They needed all the fight they could get.
Without his amulet, Kyle would be down to his wit and his grit, but something was better than nothing. He might be a 3 for brains, but not when it came to knuckle smarts. Those Elven bastards were about to get enrolled in the School of Kallen.
Kyle burst from the trees, adrenaline riding hard. He didn’t stop as he rammed up the hill toward the Castle. Something shimmering caught his eye. He turned his head skyward as he kept up the climb.
Why the hell was the Castle shining in the moonlight like a pair of glitter-spackled stripper ta-tas? As he drew closer, he placed it. That shimmer was water, heavy, swift streams flooding down the outer brick. The Elves were using that water magic he’d seen Angeline wield.
Dammit.
It was one thing to go mano a mano, but mano a magic-o was a whole heap of trouble. He grimaced and whipped around the base of the Castle. He’d have to sneak in, element of surprise, the only element he had. Well that, and this new all-consuming drive to protect.
He shook his head as he tucked away into the shadows against the wall. That crazy little Captain sure had done a number on him. Angelface had stolen his heart, smashed it, and saved it all in one go. Now he just had to hope that heart would keep on beating, despite the insanity he was plunging hi
mself into.
He laughed softly to himself as he found a foothold. Laughing? Why the hell was he laughing? The nerves had to be taking a toll. Hell, or he’d finally snapped. No time to play shrink though, it was monster crushin’ time.
He snagged a ledge and scrambled up on top of the horse stalls, giving him just the boost he needed to reach the piping that ran up the side of the Castle. The massive muscles in his arms swelled as he began his assent, boots not doing a whole hell of a lot as they rested on the skinny cracks between the bricks. Chest heaving, he climbed upwards, pulling his whole weight up towards the 4th floor windows, to the main hall. His forearms began to shake as he closed in. 10 feet. 7 feet. He gritted his teeth. 4 feet. 1 foot.
He gripped the edge of the window, arms burning with a vengeance… and with flame?! The skin on his knuckles blistered instantly, it took all his mettle to keep holding on. He panted through the pain until he felt the fire halt, the stinging aftermath sinking into his skin. But that pain gave him hope. It meant Angeline got his amulet.
His heart skipped. Or something else was throwing flames.
With one final heave he hoisted himself upward, through the window and landed with a splash in 3 feet of water. The icy cold did little to sooth his charred hands. Fuck how was he supposed to fight like that?
Fight. Right.
He jumped to his feet, mangled fists at the ready. Elves, fucking, everywhere. And Angeline, his red amulet clutched hard in her grip. Her golden eyes went wide as she spotted him.
The massive mother squaring off with her turned too. As did the whole fucking swarm of batfaces.
“At your service, Captain,” Kyle yelled, eyes sharp as he saluted his woman.
Her jaw went slack, her gaze darted once between the amulet and him. What’d she think it was? Dumb luck that she just happened to find a bit of fire?