CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX—WRITHING TENDRILS
Shiro saw as Samira launched herself at the Node, missing the tendrils entirely and striking the outside plates. Her sword cut through its flesh and plat goo sprayed out, and yet despite her solid blow, she didn’t manage to cut very deeply.
She was not as powerful as Shiro or Raz or much less Debaku.
The Mar’a Thulian grunted as the thick green tendrils with sharp pends came at him, three at once, striking and slapping. One came at him from above while he was distracted.
“Look out!” Shiro shouted, and lunged for the tendril.
It seemed to react to him and moved before he could cut it. When it landed in the glass next to Debaku, it whipped away before Shiro could readjust his angle of attack. The speed at which the tendrils moved was incredible.
Not like before.
This was far faster than when Shiro had destroyed the other node. “Why is it so fast now?”
Something whumped to Shiro’s left and Samira cried out. He saw her flung from her place next to the node as she landed in the grass, flipped backwards and managed to land on her feet.
She put one hand back with her palm facing behind her, fingers spread and a gust of powerful air pushed behind her to steady her upon her feet. It was impressive magic—powerful magic, but it was not useful once her sword made contact.
Shiro’s own blade was glowing in a white hot hiss as the moisture in the air hissed and sizzled. His pantaloons and jacket were soaked through, either with sweat or with the dampness of the misty and hot environment near the Angor’s nodes.
“Are you all right?” Shiro asked.
She nodded. “I am fine,” but this is not working.
“It is working!” Debaku shouted as he jumped away from where he was. He landed next to Shiro and the tendrils followed.
“Look out behind you,” the Black Cobra said. “There are more of the smaller vines coming to attack from behind.
Turning, Shiro made short work of them as his white-hot sword flashed through their stocks, plant juices spraying and squirting forth. These vines did not spray the brighter, luminescent green goo that Samira told them had acidic properties.
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Even still, it was sticky and slimy all at once and clung viciously. Shiro wrinkled his nose at the smell as he jumped to the side, narrowly avoiding the thicker tongue that came in for a quick strike.
“Samira!” Debaku called.
“What is it?” she shouted back, her sword skirling against the vines.
“I want my sword back! Yours is too light for me.”
“Ah—I almost forgot, Mar’a Thulian.”
“My name is Debaku.”
“Whatever, Black—here!”
Shiro did not watch Debaku catch his sword as the tongues snacked in towards him. He ran and jumped, rolling over his shoulder across the grass. He was breathing heavily and his heart was pounding.
If Razul was alive, they needed to hurry up and get him out of there! But should I call on Jessamine?
He jumped as one of the tongues came forward again, straight at him. Like before, he landed atop it, kicking his feet and pattering across the top. When the thing curled in on itself, it pushed him, giving Shiro the momentum he needed to do a front flip and land on the other side of the node.
“Good!” Debaku called. “We must thin these vines out so we can attack the central part.”
“The Node!” Samira corrected, and she screamed a short battery, her two swords flashing with extreme speed.
That was her strength, he realized, her speed and ability move about the battlefield. Where she lacked strength, she made up for in mobility. Unlike Shiro, Samira did not need to use the momentum of the Node’s tongues to get about so quickly. She could use her wind magic and simply bound to the other side.
Which was what she did, then, positioning herself on the other side directly across from Shiro. “Attack the tongues!” she screamed. “When you have a chance, cut the Node open!”
“Yes!” howled Debaku with vigor and excitement.
Something crabbed hold of Shiro’s ankle. He jumped and it lifted him into the air. But he knew well what was happening. As the thinner more versatile vines caught him, he bent upward and cut it with his sword.
The stock came apart, hissing and spraying as he used his body’s momentum to land on his feet. Then he whirled and cut through their stocks like a hedge.
As the vines feel limply to the ground, he sensed a thicker tendril coming at him from above and he jumped out of the way, landing in the grass.
It quickly rose, came back down.
Shiro grunted, rolling to the side.
The tongue repeated the action, and if Shiro didn’t get out of there quickly, the other vines would intercede, hold him down while he was crushed from above.
He grunted loudly as he pushed against the ground with his fee arm, righting himself, when suddenly the thick tendril came at him sideways and hit him in the ribs.
Shiro tried to raise his sword, but had failed.
Rolling and grunting across the ground, he came up against the Node’s curled-in plates, using his momentum to lift his sword hilt over his head and sing his blade into the fleshy part of the Angor’s outlying parts.
A terrible sounded erupted from beyond, like that of a ponderous horn.
All of the tendrils writhed and seemed to coalesce where they came toward Shiro at once. His eyes widened as he was about to be attacked from every side all at once.
“SHIRO!” Debaku called.
His heart leapt into his throat as the spiny ends of the thick tongues came at him, their speed and agility cutting through the air like swords as the smaller vines pressed in like thickets and brambles, hemming him in from escaping.