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Battle in Etherium pt3

Battle in Etherium pt3

Winterprince was rising through the faun’s flood, burning it away into steam as he soared across the intervening space –

Was this unconsciousness calling me? I couldn’t pass out.

I watched as Winterprince reached Olbru and put his now searing-tipped blade through the faun’s tiny chest, and I couldn’t move my arm, couldn’t move him away… it was too late, anyway…

If I pass out, they all enter Treetown. She could have… have anything there… waiting…

Em…

I couldn’t move my hands – they were cold – but I could move my jaw. Bite down on the lower lip.

Draw even more blood.

He killed Flood Boy.

It wasn’t enough. The pain wasn’t enough. I was slipping. There was a velvet blackness awaiting me – it was unconsciousness, it was death, it was suicide –

I watched, through blinkered, closing eyes, as the arch-wizard raised his foot and savagely lashed out, the massive translucent boot thrusting into Olbru’s face, kicking the faun’s corpse clean off the sword to lie in the dirt.

Tiny green leaves of energy rose from the dead faun’s skin into the air, like luminous snowflakes falling in reverse, his spirit breaking apart as the plane swallowed him up.

He… kicked… Flood Boy’s… corpse…

I stared on, as he flicked my trusty faun’s blood from the blade.

There was another well beneath the well. There was fire beneath volcanoes. An ocean of it.

I might’ve been unconscious, but now I could feel my shield as it brought itself shuddering back into reality.

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I flopped about, onto my chest, the left leg non-responsive – but it was mercifully pain-free, doing little more than tingle now.

That was probably a very bad sign.

Drop on it!

I forced my hands into claws and tried to crawl towards the wizard, my stars buzzing, made of pure will –

“Oh no, boy,” he snarled, whipping back to face me.

He pointed his sword; the fire flowed, and it was all I could do to deflect the attack.

I was helpless as together we ignited Xiatan, not three feet from me. A gush of lava consumed the dryad layer by layer, then it seemed to bubble up inside him, smoke and incandescent fluid pouring out of the cracks of his eyes and mouth.

The treeman collapsed into smouldering ashes next to me.

“I said – you – were mine.”

Fingertips of frost clawed their way through my shield. Head bowed, I awaited the end, however it came. I couldn’t see his blades. Only sense them as he broke my defences.

Broke me.

I saw the pink lightning through my closed eyelids, though.

“You!”

I’d never heard Stormsword sound scarier. It was the voice of a tornado that struck the battlefield, struck Winterprince.

And then she was drawing me back with her wind-magic, sliding me across the ground away from my would-be killer, even as she drew closer, tagging in for me.

Thank… you, I tried to think at her, but it didn’t go through. Does that mean… I have to handle Starsight?

I collapsed forwards onto my face, letting her pull me – letting go…

But as she crossed over me, something fell unerringly into my fingers, nestling itself in my grasp –

The chain. Her healing potion.

I lurched onto my elbow then collapsed, face near to my hand – the fingers were still cold, so cold, but I could draw out the stopper with my teeth –

“Avaelar!” Zel was shrieking. “Help Timesnatcher!”

Help… Timesnatcher…

My sh… shield… gone…

I poured the first drop of the healing elixir, missed my mouth; I thrust my neck forwards desperately, put out my tongue –

A boot smashed into my jaw, crunching down, shattering the glass between my fingers and snapping my bones like kindling.

“We can’t be having that, I’m afraid,” Starsight intoned.

He leaned down, his minty breath in my nostrils.

I tried to meet his eyes, but all I could make out was the gleaming star of his mask.

“I’m sorry things went this way,” he said softly, “but you stepped off the path, Feychilde. A thing ill-destined is better finished swiftly, nay? Else it become an abyss to drag down all in its wake.”

He did something to me and I was on my back, spread-eagled.

The glitter of a golden dagger-blade in his hand as he stood over me –

* * *