Page 29 of Bound By Fire and Magic
She was already working on the orange orb. Even though it was only the size of a marble, it stung her already tender flesh. She kept working it, ignoring the pain.
Kirin crept along the edge of the light, slipping in and out of shadow. She went the other way. The orb was the size of a melon now.
The tulpa took a giant step toward Kirin, its hand swiping at him. He rolled out of reach, came back, and tore off the tulpa’s hand with his teeth. It screeched as though in pain, its muddy essence pouring out of the stump like smoky blood. Within seconds, the hand regenerated.
The severed hand on the floor didn’t fade away, though. It morphed into a blob that moved, shook, and became an independent form.
“Holy crap,” she said. “I don’t think it’s supposed to do that.”
Kirin watched, his body rigid. “What the hell? It didn’t do that before.”
The smaller tulpa rushed at him, and Kirin knocked it like a baseball with his tail. It shot up into the darkness of the ceiling. She was so shocked that she didn’t even see the huge hand before it smacked into her, sending her skidding across the floor. The orb spun several yards away, coming to a stop just above the floor’s surface. The tulpa reached down toward her. She backed away but came up against the wall.
Nowhere to go.
Kirin roared, diving between the tulpa’s spread feet and sliding across the floor toward her as the tulpa’s hand slammed down—right on top of him. The spikes on his back speared right through the tulpa’s hand. It jerked upward, looking at its palm. She scooted sideways and summoned the orb back to her. It trembled but wouldn’t move. Dammit. The orange wasn’t as reliable because of the amount of energy it contained.
Kirin rolled to the side as the tulpa inspected its hole-ridden hand. Little bits of the displaced “flesh” jumped to the floor and scrambled like cockroaches toward Kirin. He stomped down on them.
The tulpa kicked him while he was distracted. Kirin flew through the air and slammed into the metal wall, leaving a huge indent. He slid down to the floor in a heap. Elle screamed, inadvertently catching the tulpa’s attention.
“Yeah, come and get me, you big, fat blob.” She worked up a blue orb, dodging the hand that kept trying to grab her.
The tulpa groaned in what sounded like pleasure. Did it like what she’d called it? “Yeah, I hate you too, you ugly, worthless piece of crap.” She spared a glance to Kirin. “You all right?”
He was on his feet but wobbling. “Don’t worry about me, love. Keep your attention on killing that thing.”
The tulpa made another pleasurable growl. Oh, shoot. It did like negative words. They were feeding the hatred that already fueled it. How easy it was to fall into anger and fear. What she felt for Kirin was close to the surface and easy to dredge up. She looked at him. “I love you, Kirin! Do you hear me? I love you. You were everything to me, too. When we made love last night, it was the first time I’ve felt complete since…the last time you touched me.”
He gave her a dumbfounded look. “You’re telling me this right now because…”
She nodded toward the tulpa as it started moving toward her. “Positive emotions, remember? Goron was telling the truth. It likes the negative ones.”
He got it. “I’ve never wanted anyone but you, Elle, not since that first day I started working here and met you. You completely slayed me with that shy smile you gave me when we were introduced. But then you reached your hand out and shook mine with such confidence, more than any other teenaged girl I’d ever met. And you kept slaying me. You’re beautiful and smart and everything I want.”
The tulpa made a sound like brakes grinding to a stop, just as it did.
Kirin took advantage of its temporary confusion and slammed it from behind. But he wasn’t moving as gracefully as he had been a few seconds earlier. He was hurt. Her spear of panic spun the tulpa toward her.
She shouted, “I’m so in love with you?—”
But her fear overpowered her love. The tulpa grabbed her, its thick hand encircling her as it lifted her toward its open mouth. Good God, it was going to devour her. Inside its mouth and throat, she saw nothing but roiling darkness. But wait. If it ingested her, she could break herself and Kirin’s father out from the inside. Because your father did this. Make things right. She stopped fighting as the tulpa lifted her toward its maw. She squeezed her eyes shut and whispered, “You’ll be all right, you’ll be all right.”
“No!” Kirin’s voice echoed from somewhere.
He flew down from the top of the huge space. His red and black wings were spread, the smooth, leathery membrane stretching for a span of ten feet. He whipped around so that his tail sliced off the tulpa’s head. The body stumbled, its hand loosening enough so that she could get out of its grip. Its essence poured down its chest like black lava, cold and clammy where it touched her.
She landed on her feet. “Kirin, I had it under control!”
He landed hard on the floor. “Fine. Next time I’ll let it eat you.”
“That was the point!”
“What? Are you…”
They both stopped and turned to see the head rolling on the floor. It bumped into the table…and began to move of its own accord.
“Uh oh,” they both said simultaneously.
