Page 168 of Balance
But it was Julian whose expression startled me the most. He wasn’t even looking at the sword—or me—at all, but stared at Miles. His face was flushed, and his ebbing anxiety reached through our bond as he fought to control his emotions.
“What didyoudo?” Julian repeated Damen’s question, but with a special focus on Miles himself.
“Haven’t you guessed yet?” Miles threw his arm over my shoulders. “I’ve reached master level, thanks to Bianca.” He turned me from the necromancer and onmyoji, not even giving them a chance to respond, and gestured toward the Snallygaster. “Come on, let’s go. Titus looks like he needs our help.”
Titus—now in dragon form—had ripped off the Snallygaster’s wing and appeared to be doing rather impressively. It was a wise move, going for the appendages, but victory was short lived as, an instant later, the creature regrew the missing limb.
Pity. In any other situation, his victim would have been toast. Titus didn’t even appear to be winded, if dragons even got winded. I wasn’t quite sure about that, to be honest. I might have to ask him later, when he wasn’t covered in green blood. Hopefully that wouldn’t stain. I rather preferred Titus clean.
“Don’t be nervous.” Miles glanced down at me. “I’ll bind it so it can’t get away. If Titus keeps ripping the wings, it’ll be forced to stay by the ground. Then you can go.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. First of all, I wasn’t nervous. Not at all. Wherever would he get that idea?
“Go…where?”
“To stab it in the heart!” Miles explained, eyebrows shooting up as if my question took him off guard. “We have to break the spell together.”
“Have you lost your mind?” Julian stepped between us, pulling me from Miles. “She can’t fight!”
A twinge of annoyance twisted at me. While Julian’s intentions were good, his assumptions were presumptuous.
Although he wasn’t completely wrong. In this situation, I was in over my head.
“Stop that!” Miles slapped at Julian and my entwined hands. “You’re making it harder for her to be confident ifyoudon’t believe in her.”
“I do believe in her!” Julian clenched his fist against his thigh, his expression darkening—I didn’t have to feel his emotions to plainly see his growing panic. “Don’t put words in my mouth. I just don’t think she should—”
“Get a grip.” Miles narrowed his eyes. “You’re letting your own issues interfere with how you treat her!”
“I’m not!” he stammered.
I was almost taken aback by the sudden wave of doubt—it was a strange feeling, not having it come from me for once—and I probably would have inquired as to why Miles and Julian seemed almost ready to fight, but the more pressing matter came to a head.
“Not the time,” Damen had said, retrieving his katana and jumping past us. “You can have it out later.” He joined Titus, sword swinging, as he fought the Snallygaster.
But I knew—since Miles had so kindly reminded me—that no matter how many times the two of them wounded it, they’d never be able to win.
What were we waiting for?
Me.
Self-loathing made my skin thrum. From a distance, it hadn’t been so evident—but now it was obvious that the three of them had been fighting for quite some time. Damen’s movements were slower than usual, which might have been the reason he’d been hit to begin with. And Julian’s clothes were as tattered as his expression was worn.
They were exhausted, except for Titus. The dragon seemed to have gained a second wind, and his slowing movements quickened. He’d gotten into such an uproar that he wouldn’t even so much as look in my direction.
I hesitated, but only for a moment. The feeling that had been gradually swelling in my chest from the very first time I’d seen Damen fight was almost choking me now. Damen jumped down from the front of the beast, narrowly missing a swipe of its lethal-looking claws as he ran his blade across the creature’s front legs.
Green blood poured from the wound, and the beast stumbled slightly, but it had already begun healing by the time Damen had righted himself.
“Ready?” Miles asked again, but I was on my way before he’d even finished speaking.
It had been over ten years since I’d picked up a sword—not counting the mishap with Daniel Cole. And technically that was a dagger, so it didn’t count. And although I was no expert, there were some principles I couldn’t forget: proper stance, defense, speed…
And being proactive.
Unnecessarily prolonging a fight due to indecision made it much more likely you’d get hurt.
The heart.
