Gin was right, she realized. Other than her spirits, the room was calm. There was no panic, no overwhelming fear like she’d felt in Mellinor. If Sted wasn’t standing there with his monstrous arm, healing right in front of her, she wouldn’t have even known he was a demonseed.
Gin growled. Sted was coming forward, a feral grin on his scarred face.
“Is that all?” His voice was thick with laughter. “Is that all you have to throw against me? A pet dog?”
“Miranda,” Gin said softly, never taking his orange eyes off Sted. “Take the thief out the back. I’ll hold this bastard here while—”
A whoosh of flame cut off his words. The fire in the stove blazed up to the ceiling, and Sted burst into flames. He screamed in pain and began to flail wildly. Gin turned to look at Miranda, who was lowering her hand, Kirik’s enormous ruby burning like a bonfire on her thumb.
“No playing hero tonight, mutt,” she said, pressing her fingers against the pendant on her chest. A great wind rose up, and the fire on Sted grew white-hot as Eril, her wind spirit, blasted it like a forge bellow. Sted screamed again, beating the flames, but Kirik clung tight. The blast of heat was enough to blister Miranda’s skin, but she didn’t step back. Triumph surged up Kirik’s connection, and the ring on Miranda’s thumb began to almost vibrate with the fire’s victorious joy as Sted sank to his knees.
Then, in the space between breaths, the tide turned. The flames were still blazing bright, the smell of burned flesh thick in the air, but Miranda could feel something pulling on the connection that tied her to Kirik. It felt as though the fire spirit was going further and further away from her, fading into the distance. The feeling was so alien that, for a moment, she could only stand dumbly. Then, like a splash of cold water, she realized what was happening.
“Kirik!” Her voice throbbed with power. “Come back now!”
“No!” the fire roared. “I’ve almost got him!”
“Kirik!” she cried again. She could feel it clearly now, vibrating up their connection. Sted was eating the fire even as it burned him, devouring the spirit’s soul. Through the flames, she could see his charred skin mending, growing whole again as he sucked in the fire’s essence. But Kirik wasn’t stopping. He burned brighter than ever, the heat roaring until the wooden roof began to smoke, but Sted was standing up, his black, clawed hand clutching the fire, drawing it in, and Miranda decided enough was enough.
With a wrench of her spirit she’d never had to use before, she grabbed Kirik and pulled him back. It hurt. The fire burned her control, fighting her, screaming that he had almost won, but Miranda slammed her will down like a forge hammer. Roaring with defeat, the fire fled back to its ring and the ruby’s light went out. Dumbstruck by what had just happened, Miranda stared at her ring, her vision wavering as her heart thudded in fear. The red stone was now the color of charred coal, and she could barely feel Kirik at all.
A gust of wind hit her as Eril returned to his pendant, and Miranda forced her attention back to the fight. Sted was on his feet again, standing in a circle of black char. Smoke filled the air, but most of it came from what was left of the roof and the floor. Sted’s clothes had been reduced to blackened rags, but his skin was nearly untouched, and what bits of it were still charred were healing before Miranda’s eyes.
She cursed under her breath as he turned to face her, his teeth bared in a hateful smile. “Anything else?”
Miranda clenched her fists. All her rings except Kirik’s were trembling against her fingers, not with fear, but with anger. They wanted to kill the monster, to stamp Sted out of existence, but Miranda held them back. She raised her hand and gave a silent order. It took a moment for Durn to comply, but eventually the rock spirit opened his stone cocoon, revealing Eli, now unconscious, curled up like a baby in Mellinor’s blue globe. The next order was the hardest she’d ever had to give. She reached out to the thick cord connecting her to Mellinor, and the globe of water collapsed. Steam hissed as the cold water ran over the charred wood, washing Eli up in a little heap at Sted’s feet.
Sted bent over, scooping the thief up with one arm. “That was the smart choice,” he said. “But then, who could expect a woman to give a good fight?”
Miranda shook with rage, but when she spoke, her voice was as cold as Mellinor’s water. “If I back down, it is only because I value my spirits more than any prize or pride that thief could bring me. Take him and go, but be warned, Sted.” She spat his name. “When we meet again, I’ll make you suffer for what you’ve done.”