Page 74 of Fortune's Blade
But Marlowe was hacking a passage through them, emulating the boat fey with a sword in each hand, and Ray was lobbing spell bombs from the bag he had taken off the brownie. I realized that I was the only one with an inadequate weapon, and looked about to exchange it. But all I saw was a new wave of fey coming up on our rear.
That included several of the champion’s friends or possibly family, who had taken a moment to react, as they did not seem to have the intellect to match their size. But they had that, I thought, as one of them picked up the combine tractor, which must have weighed four or five tons, as easily as I might have grabbed a convenient stick. And threw it at us like a man lobbing a baseball, except that this one would have broken records, as it was traveling at approximately the speed of a bullet.
That stopped everything, both for us and our attackers, as people abruptly dove for cover. I jerked Ray down at the last second, and Marlowe tackled Mircea. He was just in time.
The great projectile screamed by overhead, stirring up a whirlwind of sand and dragging a couple dozen pixies helplessly in its wake. Before crashing into the ground a dozen yards in front of us and sending a stinging blast of sand radiating outward that I thought might flay the flesh right off of my bones. And it might have, except for Ray, who had somehow had the presence of mind to throw a shield spell in front of us.
I assumed he had taken it from the brownie’s pack as we had not had it before. And it was powerful, wavering in front of our eyes like a mirage in the desert, showing us nothing but whirling sand on the other side for a moment. And then Mircea and Marlowe emerged from the chaos, now both blood-covered savages, only this blood was theirs.
I screamed and ran into the ward, unthinking. And then found myself thrashing about in its clutches, unable to break through no matter what I did. Until I finally tore a small hole and then shredded it and was out the other side.
In time to see that Mircea had already healed, his outfit ruined but his torn skin smoothing out under the blood that he was quickly reabsorbing. I didn’t see what Marlowe looked like as I wasn’t looking at Marlowe. But I did see . . ..
My thoughts petered out at the sight of a field of bloody and now completely deranged fey digging themselves out of the sand; a missing barrier, as the junk walls ahead of us had been pulverized or knocked out of the way; and a large contingent of the armed, troll/ogre hybrids pouring out of every tunnel leading into the arena.
No way could we handle all of that.
But before they could attack, something else unexpected happened. Something I didn’t understand any more than I had most of the things that had taken place recently. But everyone else certainly seemed to.
Because a screeching cry rang out over the arena, and a group of dark shadows rippled across the ground. And, suddenly, everyone was moving again—in the opposite direction. The entire area was abruptly churning with screaming, running figures, many of whom left their weapons behind in their desperation to get away.
But not from us. From whatever was now circling us, sending a whirlwind of shadows chasing each other across the sand. Its identity was hidden from sight by the sun and the particles in my eyes, but not, it seemed, from Ray’s.
He was staring upward and appeared to be trying to grasp my arm but kept missing. Since he was a vampire, that was very odd, but not as much as his expression. Which I had never seen before and couldn’t name.
“What is it?” I asked, but he did not seem to be able to answer.
“Ray?” I said again, not understanding why he was acting this way.
Until something landed in front of me, the size of a giant but in a very different form, and shaded my eyes by a pair of massive, leathery wings.
Oh, I thought.
That was why.
Chapter Fourteen
The creature in front of me was beautiful. That was all I could think of for a moment, staring in awe at the royal purple color of the scales that covered the hugely muscled body. The ones over the breastbone were so large and shiny that they showed me back my own bedraggled form, and were topped by a surprisingly elegant head with massive, curled black horns framed by huge, leathery black wings.
I recognized what it was, of course; Dory’s friend Claire could turn into something like this, only her dragon form was considerably smaller and more delicate. This one would have made six of her and was easily the most imposing creature I had ever seen. The giant had been big, but even while attempting to kill Marlowe, it had not been nearly so menacing.
This was danger given form, and its savage beauty was that of a force of nature: a surging sea, a churning tornado, a wildfire burning out of control.
I was utterly entranced.
Right up until the creature threw out a careless claw and knocked Ray, who had been standing at my side and frozen in shock, almost the length of the arena. I didn’t see where he landed; there was too much junk in the way. But I heard his scream in my head, one that was abruptly cut off.
And then all I saw was red.
I heard someone scream “No!” Felt fingers brush my arm, grasping for me with lightning speed. Smelled someone’s fear on the air, but it wasn’t mine.
I eluded the grasping fingers, grabbed a metal pipe with a jagged end, and struck. Not the scales, which I instinctively knew I had no chance with, but rather the softest target available: the wings. Or to be more precise, one wing, which was shortly thereafter a torn and tattered sail.
The creature screamed and reared back, spilling ruby colored blood onto the hot, sunlit air. It did not seem to have expected the attack, although why I did not know. It would receive more of the same soon, and if Ray was dead . . .
Then I would have killed two new enemies in a single day.
But that would have to wait, as the next thing I knew, I was flying after my Second.