Page 58 of Wicked Prince of Mirrors
Methrin took one step backward and golden lightning split the air as he yanked a sword shard out of the mirror. He advanced on the Destroyer who spun, flinging its spiked tail at Methrin. He leaped out of the way and slashed. It was almost too fast to see, yet the Destroyer avoided it.
Back and forth the two danced and I watched in horror and admiration. Methrin was fast, he made the entire battle look like a dance while the Destroyer pounced and leaped, barking and spinning its mass with surprising agility.
One of its overlarge paws backhanded Methrin and he crashed on his back, lashing out with the sword to protect himself. But the beast advanced and my heart leaped into my throat.
A glow came to my fingers and I stepped fully onto the rooftop.
I wasn’t a warrior, nor was I fast or brave. I should hide instead of fight but somehow I’d been linked to Methrin and I could not stand by idly and watch while he fought alone.
Lifting my hands I felt the magic dance the edges of my fingertips. With intention I pulled shards of mirrorout of the ether and flung them like arrows at the Destroyer.
It whipped around faster than I expected and suddenly those yellow eyes were level with my face. The heat of its foul breath seared across my skin and that rough voice filled my ears. “Oh. She bites.”
I dared not look at Methrin, knowing what I’d done was foolish. But he took advantage of the distraction and slashed at the Destroyer’s hindquarters. The beast swiped at me and I ducked, yanking at my magic, flinging more shards at it. It leaped, wings beating, tail moving to avoid them, but Methrin was right there, pressing his advantage, his sword nimble. He struck again while I readied another rain of shards, envisioning them brighter, bigger, sharper this time.
When I released them, the beast howled and a surge of excitement rippled through me.
It was getting weaker.
Now the growls that erupted from it were desperate, and I focused my magic, making it stronger and more powerful as I rained down more shards.
Meanwhile, Methrin danced about it, slicing off its tail. My rain of shards damaged its wings as it attempted to fly away. Finally, Methrin leaped onto its back and drove his sword into one of its heads. Then, just as easily, he removed the other heads with two slices.
The beast fell down, dead, its tongue lolling out of the one head that remained on its body.
Methrin flung his mirror sword back into the ether and vaulted down from the beast.He looked every bit a fierce warrior as he strode toward me. I backed against the door as he towered over me, his violet eyes blazing so brightly they would have glowed if we were in a dark place.
“Esmira,” he said, voice rough. “You were magnificent.”
He pressed his lips against mine, and a glow of magic burst out of me. I fisted his shirt in my hands, pulling him closer, almost dragging him down on top of me as I kissed him back, breathless. The intensity of fighting my first battle propelled me on, the heady elation of winning making me giddy. I drank him in until he broke the kiss.
Instead of letting me go, he pressed my head against his chest where the thrum of his heartbeat pulsed like a drum.
As I closed my eyes and leaned into him, a wave of exhaustion came over me and my body trembled. I’d never used so much magic before and it began to take its toll, demanding my strength as payment.
“The first time is the hardest,” Methrin murmured. “The weariness will come, don’t fight it.”
“There’s no time,” I protested. “We have to find the sword. We have to get back to Lyra and everyone else.”
“We will.” His fingers make circles at the small of my back. “But the beast is dead and I need to perform the ritual.”
My knees went weak. It was too difficult to hold myself upright. I leaned into Methrin’s strength, focused on just breathing even though I wanted to ask more questions.
Eventually he helped me sit down and I leaned against the door. At first the world swam when I opened my eyes, but soon my vision cleared, enough to see the monstrous beast laid low, still sprawled out, defiling the temple.
Methrin kneeled by the beast and spoke a few words in another tongue. Then, taking a knife, he cut open his palm and walked to the four sides of the temple, marking each one with blood before returning to the center. The scent of burning came. He must have lit the beast on fire, even though I hadn’t seen him strike kindling.
Small flames grew as the monster caught fire, choking the air with the scent of burning hair and flesh. My eye itched and my throat went dry, but Methrin stood with his face raised toward the sky. The smoke rose like a cloud, white instead of gray. I followed his gaze up as tears from the smoke streamed down my face.
Suddenly a gentle wind began to blow, filled with fresh sea air. The white smoke blotted out the blue sky, the fluffy white clouds, and even the golden rays of sun until we were enveloped within it.
Subtly the air shifted, becoming pure and clean.
Gone was the foul scent, the rot, the blood, the burning. I took a deep breath and the cough left my throat, the tears from my eyes. Even though I’d fought, I suddenly felt renewed, as though I were gaining strength.
I lifted my hands and ash fell into them. Motes of itdrifted out of the sky like snow and the wind blew it until it covered the rooftop.
I had no idea how long we remained, but at last the smoke cleared leaving the rooftop cleansed from what had taken place there. It shone a pure white with no signs of blood or gore or even the beast with its three heads, not even scorched bone.
