I sat down, wiggling my backside. I looked up at Dragon as he walked toward me.
"My ass!" I shouted, forcing surprise in my tone.
He paused, mid-step.
"It's just so…comfortable." I didn't know if he could hear me. The people behind me sure could.
The smile on my own face was fake. Inside, I knew I needed to bring the fight to a whole new level. We needed to start using magic.
Chapter 56
Playing with Fire
Dragon moved to the middle of the ring, crossed his arms, and stared me down. I hopped up, keeping my senses open to the beginning weaves of flame.
Is this it? Is he mad enough?
I prepared myself, recalling Clay's intel on the earth below us. We’re on top of the Denver basin – a layer of sedimentary rock runs all the way to the eastern edge of the Rocky Mountains. Much of the basin is large, flat and reddish slabs of rock, the kind prevalent in the Red Rocks Park and Amphitheatre fifteen miles west of us. The basin runs deep, though. Before you reach it, there is sandstone and shale.
Only rock, at my disposal. Rock, and nothing else.
Dragon put one foot back and his hands in fists, near his face – ready to parry a blow. My shoulders sagged. This wasn't it – he still needed some convincing.
So be it.
I lunged, hopping wide and to his left, then to his right. I could see his muscles tense as he tried to anticipate my next move, so I cartwheeled. Arms by my ears, legs wide, I completed a star pattern. Hand, hand, foot, foot. My elementary school gym teacher would be proud.
As soon as my second foot hit the ground, I ducked and sent a right hook into his soft spot. He winced, grabbing at it and turning away. I circled around, meeting him halfway with a spinning back roundhouse kick. At least that's what Alex had told me it was. My heel connected with the same spot.
He stumbled away from me. "Damn it – stop hitting me there!"
I walked casually to the right, toward the ref. "Why, Dragon? Is that a rule too?"
I looked to the ref for clarification. He just shrugged.
Next I tried a somersault, not nearly as pretty as my cartwheel. I didn't expect the ground to be so hard. I managed to kick up as soon as I unfolded, but Dragon twisted, and it wasn't a direct blow. He stomped down. I rolled to the side. Another close call.
On the ground, facing away from him, there was no time to get up. His boot came down, hard and fast – aiming for my temple. I kicked back, and caught him behind his knee. With one leg in the air, he lost balance. I hopped up as he fell. With our situation reversed, I took the opportunity to kick him hard – in the side.
A long string of curse words came out of his mouth.
I stepped back, hoping that would do the trick. I let him pick himself up while I brushed dirt from my clothes. Should've worn a leotard.
Hung up on appearance, I barely had time to dodge the fireball. Its heat licked at my bicep as it passed. It flew into the audience, exploding across the chest of someone who didn't move quickly enough. The man started screaming, alternately hitting himself in the chest and rolling on the floor. Neither put the flame out.
I felt Dragon drawing some of the flame from the shirt, weave it into another ball, and wing it at me. Now that I was on edge, it was easy enough to dodge. While I rode my energy high, the rest of the world moved in slow motion.
Before Dragon could react, I moved in, taking a shot at his nose and then again at his side. When he recovered, I held up his lighter for him to see. "Seriously, dude? Is this the extent of your fire?"
His neck went red, and his face actually shook. His mouth contorted in rage. He drew another fireball. I didn't even have to move for it to miss me. Anger threw off his aim.
The man rolling around on the floor continued screaming.
"For crying out loud," I picked up my shirt, discarded earlier in the fight, and threw it at his buddy. Within seconds they had the fire out.
Could no one else do that? Though, I suppose my shirt was already ruined.
I turned to Dragon and crossed my arms. "Your flame is weak, Dragon. A little too damp for you, down here in the catacombs?"
He put two fingers in his mouth. A loud, shrill whistle cut through the chatter, bringing the catacombs to a dead silence. A smile lit his face.
What is he up to?
After a few moments of nothing happening, he turned to the audience – staring them down. A few flinched, digging in their pockets for something. Another step toward them by Dragon, and they hurried to roll their thumb across a small gear, then hold the object up. Tiny flames danced atop each of the lighters. The fire spread across the room, most everyone holding up a lighter.
My mouth dropped open. I looked at the ref. Behind me, Dragon must have been spewing some unspoken threat, because the ref took out a lighter, too.