Magic Strikes(98)
My only chance lay in tiring him out. It was hard to put a blade into a man's eye. Unfortunately,
that was the only part of himself he'd left human.
Minutes flew by, sliced to shreds by the cascade of gleaming blades. The crowd had gone so
quiet, only the ringing pulse of our swords breached the silence. He couldn't keep this up
indefinitely and I was just warming up.
Curran loomed behind the golem. The glance cost me-a well-placed thrust sliced my left
shoulder.
«No!» I barked.
Curran clamped the golem in a bear hug, trying to crush his throat. Silver flowed and metal
spikes punched from the golem's back into Curran's chest, impaling him.
Curran roared in agony.
The sound shook the Pit. Pain and thunder rolled and combined, nearly bringing me to my knees.
In the crowd people screamed and covered their ears.
Gray streaks slid through Curran, eating up his fur. The idiot just held on tighter. The golem
spun, his movement slowed slightly, his spikes still protruding through Curran's back . . .
The universe shrank to Curran and his pain. I had to break him free. Nothing else mattered.
I attacked, leaving a slight opening on the left side. The golem committed. He thrust, throwing
himself into a lunge. I didn't try to block. The slender blade sliced between my ribs. Ice pierced me,
followed by a sharp, painful heat.
I plunged Slayer's blade into his left eye.
It slid perfectly into a sheath of flesh. I buried it deep, putting all my strength behind it. A one-
in-a-hundred kind of strike.
The golem's mouth gaped. His silver skin shook, draining from his body, and as it drained, a
scream was born in the depths of his throat, at first weak, but growing stronger. Finally it burst forth
in a howl of pain and surprise.
Curran broke off, snapping the spikes.
The last smudges of silver drained from the golem's skin. He toppled to his knees. I put my foot
onto his shoulder and pulled my blade out. He fell facedown. I walked off, across the sand, and
thrust my hand through the blood ward.
It solidified around my hand in a flash of red. For a moment a translucent red column enclosed
Dali, and then it shattered, melting into nothing. I grabbed her and hauled her out of there. Behind
us Curran staggered to his feet.
The crowd erupted. God damn harpies. I turned on my foot, stared at them, and yelled, «Fuck
you all!»
They just cheered louder.
I marched out of the Pit.
At the gates, Jim took one look at my face and moved out of my way.
I stomped into our quarters, straight into Doolittle's makeshift hospital. Curran followed me,
slapping the door closed. I whirled around. The beast melted and Curran stood before me in his
human form. Black spots peppered his chest where the spikes had pierced his flesh.
I stared at him for a second and smashed my fist into his midsection, right over the solar plexus.
He grunted.
Doolittle took off.
«What the fuck is wrong with you?» I looked for something heavy to hit him with, but the room
was mostly empty. There were surgical instruments but no heavy, blunt objects capable of causing
the kind of pain I wanted.
He straightened.
«He was silver!» I snarled in his face. «I had it under control. What was going through your
head? Here's a toxic silver golem; I think I'll jump on his back! That's a damn good idea!»
He scooped me up and suddenly I was pressed against his chest. «Were you worried about me?»
«No, I'm ranting for fun, because I'm a disagreeable bitch!»
He smiled.
«You're a moron!» I told him.
He just looked at me. Happy golden lights danced in his eyes. I'd learned exactly what those
sparks meant. Fury fled, replaced by alarm.
«Kiss me and I'll kill you,» I warned.
«It might be worth it,» he said softly.
If he held me a moment longer, I'd lose it and kiss him first. I was so damn happy he was alive.
When drowning, grasp at anything in reach. Even a straw will do. «My side is bleeding, Your
Majesty.»
He released me and called for Doolittle.
DOOLITTLE CHANTED THE WOUNDS CLOSED, fussed, pricked my legs with hot needles,
and declared my responses normal. «A glancing wound. Does it hurt?»
«No,» I lied.
He sighed, wearing the patient expression of a martyr. «Why do I bother?»
«I don't know. Would it help if I cried like a baby?»
He shook his head. «On second thought, keep your composure.»
The spots on Curran's chest were growing. I pointed to him.
Doolittle handed me the scalpel. «I need to see to Dali. She's in shock.»
Funny. She didn't seem to be in shock when I saw her.
Doolittle left in a very determined fashion. I stared at the scalpel. Curran sat on the floor and
presented me with his huge muscled back. Oh boy.