Time that is movement,
Root them,
Hold each within their place,
Let all now be frozen so no further harm may take place.
Already it was far too late for the fastest and strongest of the Lycans. Four leapt through the flames surrounding the hated mage and struck the protection barrier. One tried for the back of Xaviero’s neck, hoping to use his wolf to sever the spinal cord. Two others closed in from both sides, and the last chose a frontal attack, going for the throat.
The flames surrounding the protection circle disappeared in a blue puff. Xaviero caught the Lycan coming at him, snapped his neck and threw him casually into the flames several feet away. He smiled at Branislava as he did so, that evil, contemptuous smirk she remembered from long ago. She would never forget the macabre showing of his teeth and his cold, dead eyes that glowed with a kind of glee when he hurt others.
The Lycan leaping at his neck was caught in the air, held prisoner by burning runes and then, casually, with his unholy sneer, the mage reached up, caught the Lycan by the neck and tossed him after the first one into the blaze.
Both Lycans screamed as they caught fire, whirling around trying to put out the flames running over their bodies. As if they’d been coated in an accelerant, the fire burned right through them, as they screamed and wailed, the sound never to be forgotten.
The last two warriors hit the protective circle, and runes leapt over their bodies, running up their legs and hips, to their torsos and around to their backs, climbing higher and higher until they reached their necks. Both men in their Lycan form put clawed hands up to their throats, their eyes going wide, seeming almost to pop out of their heads as they fought for air. It was a slow, cruel strangulation and all who watched were helpless to do anything at all. The two men, as if they were doing a ghoulish ballet fell to the ground in slow motion and lay at the mage’s feet.
Around them, the battle blazed between Carpathians and the Lycans led by Daciana, Makoce and Lykaon and the hellhounds and Sange rau army the mages had created. Still, in that moment, it seemed as if there was only Xaviero and Branislava staring at each another.
Branislava moistened her lips and waved her hand to restore the Lycans’ abilities to move. “He’s baiting all of you. You can’t defeat him,” she said aloud. “You can’t. Join the others in fighting off his army and leave him to me.” She forced absolute confidence into her voice, the confidence Zev instilled in her. His belief in her overcame her childhood terror of this man.
Eyes darkened with anger, the mage stared at Branislava, a clear warning that he would retaliate if she tried anything at all.
Zev took a step toward the mage, drawing his attention. Branislava shook her head, but said nothing. Zev wasn’t a man who fought battles with anger or made impetuous moves. He’d deliberately caught the eye of the mage to give her time to get back to taking down the barrier and removing Xaviero’s inverted pentagram and the unholy fog.
Staring at Zev, the mage slipped his hands into the pockets of his robe and took out two very benign-looking pebbles. They were about the size of a man’s eye and smooth as if they’d been polished over and over. With slow deliberation, Xaviero opened his hands, allowing the pebbles to slip out of his palms and drop onto the furred chest of the two dead Lycans at his feet. He never once looked down to see if his aim was true. He only stared at Zev with his sneer of absolute contempt.
Zev could see that the pebbles landed directly over the hearts of both Lycans. There was no bouncing or sliding off the thick mats of fur. The pebble blazed into a curious blue-purple flame and sank into the chests of the Lycans. His breath caught in his throat as the two dead warriors spasmed. Convulsed. Began to grow. Where there had been fur, great spikes burst through skin, covering back, chest, arms and even legs. The muzzles expanded to accommodate a second row of serrated teeth. The two creatures stood up on their legs, claws growing until they were twice the size of a grizzly bear’s.
Zev sighed and looked around at the Lycans staring in disbelief. There was little of the two men they knew recognizable under the monstrous builds. “I’ll need Fen and Dimitri here to help me deal with porcupine boys,” he said in a carrying voice, going for humor when it appeared they were all doomed.
A few of the pack leaders smiled. He signaled to Branislava to move back away from the fire and into the circle of Lycans.
“You must protect the women. More than anything else that matters. You know how to kill the hellhounds, and you must deal in packs with the Sange rau. There’re more of us than them. Mob them if you have to, but take them down. And protect the women. They have to deal with the mages.”