The blood disappeared, sucked in like the final sip of wine from a cup. Where had it gone?
At first nothing happened and the maw of despair once again began to gnaw on the edges of Marcius's thoughts, dragging him down even as his fingers slipped on the statue's forearms.
A wave of power, like an awakening heartbeat, burst from the sword, rolling over him, knocking the apprentice to the ground with forceful certainty.
The angry red jewel inlaid along the pommel began to beat, every movement sending blasts of light through the vein-like protrusions. Marcius swore that it yawned, an awakening of dormant power testing long unused muscles. The statue's arm shattered, blown to dust and the sword fell with a clang in front of Marcius.
With great effort he looked to Selene and was met with two pairs of eyes staring back. Though they had not felt the wave of power, one could not have missed the shattering of stone. And here was a perfect moment. Where everyone pauses, considers the turn of events, and allows the last couple seconds to run through their head.
His body was shaking in effort, every muscle in his body tensed, trying to hold on, to stay upright. Selene's eyes grabbed his and she shook her head. You have done your part, rest now. The movement said, absolving him of the guilt he felt.
With a sigh, he trickled down the statue, his action little more than a controlled fall. He slumped against the side, his chest heaving with exertion. Marcius forced his head and eyes to Selene, determined that if he couldn't physically aid, he'd at least bear witness.
How was the elf going to get to the sword?
❧ ❧ ❧
Selene considered her opponent. The shattering of the statue had given her a temporary reprieve, but now the beast had turned its malformed head back to her and was advancing slowly, giving her knife healthy respect.
Her eyes flickered back to the sword. The extra reach of the weapon would be the only chance she would have against this thing. But she would have to get to it first.
Marcius gave a small groan and she winced at the noise. Selene shook away the concern she felt for the apprentice. Now wasn't the time for such thoughts.
She knew she had lost a lot of blood, and she had been pushing herself too long. Surprisingly, she felt good, regardless, and the lethargy had vanished, smothered by equal parts adrenaline and sheer terror. Her little laughing fit had most likely stemmed from that.
Selene could not help but think of the old elven proverb, "Every star shines brightly right before it falls." Her lips grew tight as she dodged another swipe.
She didn't intend to fall today.
The beast was cornering her, displaying an alarming sense of intelligence, using its superior reach and size to push her against the wall where she wouldn't have any room to maneuver.
In a few short moments she would have no further room to move. It was now or never. With a single motion, she reversed her grip on her knife, flipping it around by the blade, and threw it, sending it end over end. The handle seemed to erupt from the beast's eye.
It hissed in agony, blood streaming from the wound, but it came forward now that she was defenseless, intent on ending it.
Even as the beast brought its deadly claws forward, Selene was already moving. She rolled under the attack, holding her hurt arm close to her body, as she compensated by taking the brunt of the fall with her other side. It didn't stop the sharp intake of pain that lanced up, but she managed to use her momentum to finish the roll, coming up behind the beast and within reach of the sword.
She scrambled forward, fingers grasping and finally wrapping around the handle of the sword. Out of instinct, she twisted around in a blind swipe behind her, a wild swing meant more to buy time than anything else.
It swung wide, but the action forced the beast back, giving Selene time to get her feet under her. The monster snarled in frustration, rearing up on its hind legs, meaning to come down and smother her.
She feinted left, twisting her hips, reversing her momentum as the beast came down to where she was supposed to be. The sword flashed out, but the monster was far quicker than it appeared, managing to turn its body at the last second.
Still, Selene felt the satisfying sensation of metal tearing flesh, the tip cutting a narrow, but painful, path along its flank. As it did so, a tingling sensation shot up her arm, and she felt a surge of strength.
What magic was this?
She didn't have time to ponder the mystery, for even as her arm completed its pass, the beast pushed forward, bringing its massive jaws to the fight. Selene felt the ripple of air as it they snapped just a hair width from her neck. So close!
She danced back on the balls of her feet, ducking and weaving, trying to go back on the offensive, but each time she was greeted with a flash of teeth and the glint of claw. The monster gave her no further openings.
Selene didn't have the time to wait for the beast to make a mistake; she had to force something while her strength held. Her limbs were getting heavy again and the wound along her side had reopened, the warmth spreading down the side of her body.
Mentally, she withdrew inside herself. To the place where she had been taught to listen to the rhythm of a fight, where she could block outside interference. The flow of battle pounded in her head and she let instinct take over, trusting in her training.
The beast leapt, whirling as it landed behind her. It struck rapidly with its claws, once, twice, three times. Each attack capable of killing had they connected. Each attack faster than she should have been able to react.
But she had seen it coming, felt it as clearly as if it was an extension of her own body. She easily weaved underneath the attacks, coming in close along the beast's side, surprising the creature with the audacity of her movement. It snapped weakly back at her, more out of reflex than any attempt to do any real damage.
In response, she slammed the pommel of her sword hard against the thing's face, the crunch of bone bringing a grim smile. She had fractions of a second before it could retaliate but it was enough for her to bring the sword down, a quick slice that lit another angry furrow in its flesh.
Selene wanted to plunge the sword deep into the beast, to end its life right there. But doing so would have been suicidal; there was no way she could have done so safely. The moment it took to kill would have exposed her in turn. She could take such risks if it was only her, but she had Marcius to worry about too.
So she slipped away, holding the sword in front of her as a safety barrier between her and the beast. Another burst of strength flowed through her, and it was by pure chance that as it happened, she focused briefly on the sword.
Droplets of blood traveled along the blade, like tiny insects swarming to the inlaid jewel. There they settled before being sucked in, leaving the metal shining, resplendent. There was a corresponding influx of power through her.
The sword was supporting her with the blood of her enemy! Every drop she spilled strengthened her. It went against the teaching of Avalene! Death was now life. Selene felt sickened by the thought, even as the energy flowed through her, filling her muscles with power and alleviating her lethargy.
The moment of distraction, the temporary disorientation of her battle-mind, was all it needed. The beast batted aside her sword, rushing forward, bearing her down to the ground.
They crashed a tangle of claw and limbs, and Selene thrashed, attempting to wriggle free. She ignored the pain screaming from her arm. It all didn't matter if she couldn't escape. Somehow her good hand had found its way to the underside of the beast's throat, her forearm the last barrier between it engulfing her head within its massive mouth.
The claws dug deep pits into the tops of her arm as it tried to bring its jaws down. Their eyes met, the single deep pitiless orb contrasting with the bloody socket that she'd made with her dagger. There was a momentary contest of wills, as the innate mesmeric powers of the beast sought to dominate her. Elves were more resistant to such things and she roared in kind, pushing against the thing's throat with everything she had.
Her resistance must have caught it by surprise, for she managed to wiggle free, stumbling and crawling in her haste to put distance between them. The strength stolen by sword was all that kept her upright, but even that had its limitations.
It growled, charging in, an eager glint in its single eye. Selene made a split decision, a single, act of desperation. She accepted the charge head on, rolling with the force of their impact. As she did so, the beast's jaws clamped down around her shoulder, and she slipped the sword up and under its ribs.
She spit in the things face, twisting the sword savagely even further up into the chest cavity. It was remarkably sharp, cutting through the flesh easily, dowsing her in blood and gore. The beast looked at her with a curious expression before the single eye rolled back in its head.
She had won.
Victory had probably come at the cost of her life, but she was secure in that knowledge, even as the numbness began to spread out from her shoulder. As long as Marcius made it, as long as she fulfilled her duty, this sacrifice was worth it.
A small shudder escaped her lips as the two crumpled to the ground.
Chapter 30
Marcius saw the elf fall, saw her covered by the body of the creature, a macabre blanket of now twitching flesh. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came forth.
No, it couldn't be!
He gritted his teeth, yelling internally at his unresponsive body as he struggled to reach her, crawling on the ground like a half-starved mongrel. An eternity seemed to pass before he was able to reach her, and even more time before he was able to summon the strength to nudge the beast enough to pull her out. He laid her head on his lap and leaned back, sucking in air rapidly, exhausted.