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Truly didn’t slow.
Her vision flickered, shifting to something unknown as magic forked like lightening through her veins, changing her alchemy, allowing her to see in the dark. Night became day. Dropping the torch, she left Montrose behind, and gaze locked on the doorway, lunged over the last step.
An unholy hiss rippled through the quiet.
Westvane cursed.
Truly sprinted past the towering statues, beneath the archway, into an antechamber of some kind. More steps down. More statues standing guard. Ignoring the display, she vaulted over the stairs. As her feet slammed down on colorful tile, she took a snapshot — massive, man-made chamber, gold and silver sculptures everywhere and —
Westvane, dodging, weaving… battling a giant octopus in the center of the room.
39
BLACK BLOOD, DEAD OCTOPUS
Fast reflexes kept him upright. A keen sense of self-preservation did the rest.
Ducking beneath barbed tentacles, Westvane pivoted, evading the coil of multiple arms at once. Slanted eyes with round pupils narrowed on him. The giant Earth Octopus slashed at him again. His feet left the floor. Rotating into a somersault mid-leap, he spiraled between the lash of powerful limbs.
The sharp teeth embedded in the suckers on its tentacles raked over the floor. A scraping shriek echoed through the chamber.
The fine hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.
He was in trouble — weaponless while an Azlandian apex predator tried to flay him alive. He needed to think fast and move faster. If the Earth Octopus managed to grab hold of him — game over. He’d be cut to ribbons seconds before the monster moved in for the kill, then made a meal out of him.
A thump sounded behind him.
Footfalls rapped across the stone floor.
The creature shrieked, tentacles arched, readying another attack.
“Truly!” he yelled, leaping sideways to avoid its arms. “Get down!”
A tentacle swung toward her.
Blue eyes aglow, she ducked beneath the snaking thrust, then flexed her fingers. One of her knees landed on the mosaic tiles. Swinging beneath another swipe, she cocked her elbow and punched her fist down. Magic detonated around her. A long staff formed in her hand. She hammered the base into the floor. The hard rap rocked the chamber as the scepter exploded with light. Quick strike lightning. Alive with electricity. A second staff appeared in her other hand. Shouting his name, she whipped the weapon over her head, then let go.
Ablaze, energy crackling from the tip, the staff whirled toward him.
Vaulting between slashing tentacles, he snagged it out of mid-air. Heat fused it to his palm. The head of the scepter spun. Mid-rotation, three blades sprang from the end. Westvane bared his teeth on a snarl. Excellent. Powerful magic staff — check. Razor-sharp electric blades crackling with lightning — absolute perfection.
Controlling the flip, he landed on the balls of his feet. One second spilled into two. Westvane attacked, swinging the staff like a club. Electrified blades bit. The Earth Octopus reared as he sliced through its tough hide and thick flesh. The lethal tips spun. Chunks of octopus flew. Westvane struck again. And again. Angling the weapon. Doing maximum damage. Avoiding the vicious swipe of tentacles as the monster attacked.
Black blood spattered over him, spraying the statue behind him. The beast roared. Half a tentacle hit the floor.
Westvane growled in appreciation. One down, seven tentacles to go.
Drawing strength from the specter, he dodged and struck over and over, showing no mercy. Lightning cracked from the tip of the staff as he hammered the beast, forcing it to retreat as Truly attacked from the other side.
Footwork perfect, wielding her weapon like she’d been born to it, she parried and thrust, moving in concert with him. Dipping beneath one tentacle, she hacked at another, avoiding the deadly needles, distracting the Earth Octopus while he shifted into its blind spot.
Sheer genius. Great teamwork with just the right amount of luck.
Seeing his opening, Westvane rotated the staff. Magic burned across his palm as he threw it like a javelin. Bolts of electricity arched across the antechamber. Death-dealing blades sank into the beast’s soft underbelly. The Earth Octopus flailed. Sharp needles raked the side of his head. Blood ran down his temple. As it dripped into his eye, he dodged and, with one last thrust, kicked the end of the scepter. The staff sank deep, cutting through muscle to reach its spinal cord.
Tentacles rippled in distress.
The creature teetered and collapsed, becoming a gelatinous blob on the stone floor.
