Page 82 of Tiger's Destiny
Ren and Kishan briefly studied Shala’s staff, which I knew a little about, having heard Li go on about weapons after each martial arts film we watched. The shaft along the middle ended in polished gold guards and was crisscrossed with leather thongs, which would make it easier to grip. Long razor-sharp blades sprung from both ends. Each blade faced in an opposite direction and had a pointed tip.
Wyea’s weapon appeared to be a morning star, a heavy studded mace attached with a chain on one side and a polished black spear with a large, pointed head on the other. But when Ren ran his thumb across the top, the head snapped as quickly as a mousetrap. Sharp barbs sprung out at every angle, and try as he might, Ren couldn’t get the weapon to reset. Wyea took it from him, and the barbs slid back into their hiding place. The handsome Lord handed Ren his trident and sword and admired his own weapon.
“It’s beautiful, is it not?” Wyea asked, looking directly at me. With a cocky grin and a wink, he turned and said, “Whenever the two of you are ready.”
Ren nodded mutely while the twin Lords moved toward the center of the battlefield.
I put my hand onto Ren’s arm. “I know what that weapon is,” I whispered. “Mr. Kadam mentioned it. It’s aGáe Bolga.”
Kishan frowned. “What’s that?”
“It’s from Norse mythology. I won’t go into all the details but when the weapon enters flesh, the barbs pop out. The only way to remove it is to,” I swallowed thickly, “cut it out.”
Ren grunted. “Good to know.”
“Are you prepared?” Shala called across the battlefield.
I pressed Durga’s brooch into Kishan’s hand and heard him mumble, “Armor and shield.”
The brooch grew, encompassing his upper arm in gold and swiftly moved across his entire body, covering him in gleaming black and gold armor. The brooch became a handle, and circular segments flipped out, snapping into place until Kishan had a large shield with a roaring black tiger on the front.
Ren held out his hand for the other brooch. His fingers clasped mine briefly before he whispered some words in Hindi and his own brooch began to grow. Segments flipped over and around his limbs, connecting with a weighty snap. Soon his body was protected as well, encased in armor of silver and black. His heavy shield sported a snarling white tiger.
I helped thread the trident through Ren’s belt and then knelt to pull my bow and arrows from my pack.
Ren’s gloved hand soon covered mine. “What are you doing, Kelsey?”
“Fighting with you,” I replied and pushed some stray hair from my eyes.
He shook his head and sighed. “I don’t want you hurt.”
“I’ll shoot from a distance.”
Ren was about to say something else when a fire erupted in my hands. The bow and arrows burst into flame and disappeared.
Wyea suddenly appeared behind me in a circle of flame. “You are the prize, my dear, not a warrior.”
“I think I’ve heard this before. I’m done sitting on the sidelines. I wish to fight for my own freedom. Surly you can’t begrudge me that.”
The burning form of Shala materialized next to his brother. “Why are we waiting?”
“She wishes to fight,” Wyea explained.
“She may not.”
Wyea wiped some black dust from his armor. “I admire her spirit. Perhaps we should let her.”
“No,” Ren and Kishan admonished at the same time.
“See how protective they are? This battle will be memorable.”
Biting my lip, I came to a decision. “Alright. I’ll watch this time— under one condition. You two,” I pointed to the twins, “have to make it a fair fight. No . . . dematerializing or throwing them over the cliff.”
The Lords of the Flame shrugged.
“It will be fair,” Wyea said, “but you will accept the winners without argument, whomever they may be. Agreed?”
“Wait a second, Kells,” Ren started.
