Spirit Formed, page 22
“Fine. We fight.” Godric walked in front of the group, sheathed the dagger and drew his sword. “You win, they go free. You lose, I kill you, and I probably release them.”
Shasta’s heart sank. She couldn’t beat him in a duel, and she didn’t believe he’d release Cord and Shiloh. Her sword felt twice as heavy as it was, dragging her hand down. Then again, what choice did she have? If she didn’t fight, they had two hostages to torture and kill until she agreed. If she did fight, she would die, but they had a chance of living.
She reached for the earth, wanting to feel its steadiness and reassure herself that she would be back with it when all of this was over, but it was silent. She couldn’t even feel its usual hum. Perhaps it didn’t approve of her choices lately, or perhaps it simply wanted her to make the decision on her own, but either way, it was no help.
Shasta squeezed the hilt of her sword. Memories of every word her dad had ever said about a fight, every time her mom had pointed out the use of magic, rushed through her mind. She hoped this worked and that they would be proud.
“I accept.”
Chapter Fifteen
Shasta’s words cut across the clearing. To her own ears, they sounded strong and sure; two things she didn’t feel at the moment.
Cord closed the one eye he could still move. Tears trickled out, carrying blood with them as they ran down his face. Shiloh’s eyes went wide, and she shook her head, but those were not words Shasta could or would take back. Delilah smirked triumphantly and eased the knife away from Cord’s throat.
Godric grinned as he sauntered across the clearing. “I was hoping you’d say that. Imagine the stories I’ll tell after I’ve killed you.”
“I think you should actually kill me first.” Shasta cut him off, feigning bravado she didn’t feel.
Godric stopped only five feet away. He lifted his sword. “I’m ready.”
Lesson after lesson on preparing for a fight flashed through her mind. She blocked everything out but determination and hope. She would save Shiloh and Cord. She would find a way to kill Godric. She had to. Not because she was a hunter of evil and bringer of justice, but because there was no one else.
Shasta closed the distance, settled into her stance, and lifted her sword until it lightly touched Godric’s. She looked him in the eye and hoped he saw something other than fear in her face. “As am I.”
For one never-ending moment, neither of them moved. Then Godric batted her sword with his and lunged. She pivoted to the side, his blade missing her by a hair.
Shasta recovered, but not in time to attack. Godric’s sword was moving again, and it was all she could do to defend herself. He flowed around her blade, never there for her thrust to connect, his sword in constant motion. Any opening she thought she had closed before she could take advantage. Even moving at her top speed, utilizing everything she’d ever learned, it was only a matter of time before he won.
If beating him in a duel was outside her capabilities, she needed to change the rules. She backpedaled, barely avoided getting skewered, and reached for the vines covering the clearing. Ensnare Godric’s feet, she asked them silently.
You said we didn’t have to obey orders, they replied.
Godric slashed at her. Shasta parried the blow, pushing his blade to the side, giving her an extra moment. She turned her attention back to the vines. Please, I need your help.
The vines hesitated. We will help.
Godric recovered. Shasta watched his chest so she would know how to counter. He didn’t tense or lean in a direction. And then suddenly, he was in motion. She countered as quickly as she could. Their swords met, the vibration going up her arm. Then they met again as he continued into a set of attacks. She hurried to defend herself, but communicating with the vines had used up precious time, and she wasn’t moving as fast as she needed to.
Godric tried to step forward to put more power behind the blow and pitched sideways when his foot wouldn’t move. Shasta seized the opportunity and attacked. For the first time, he was forced to defend, but he was still fast. Luckily, being able to move more freely gave her quite an advantage. She kept an eye on his legs as the vines worked their way higher. When they were above his ankles, she disengaged, sucking in deep breaths of air as she circled around him. He couldn’t turn enough to fight behind him. Lacking in honor or not, this was the only way she was going to be able to kill Godric.
“You kill him like that, and I’ll kill your boyfriend.” A pained sound followed Delilah’s words.
Shasta spun around. Delilah pulled the blade away from Cord’s face revealing a cut going along his jaw. Shasta locked eyes with Cord. He shook his head ever so slightly.
“Ivy, you will obey me,” Godric growled behind her.
Cord was right that this was her best opportunity to kill Godric, and she shouldn’t hesitate. Still, there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that she if she killed Godric, Delilah would kill Cord and probably Shiloh. Shasta felt the vines loosen. She was out of time. She had to find a way to neutralize Godric long enough to kill Delilah. Pivoting, she got her sword up in time to block a blow that was meant to shatter her collarbone.
“You think you’re the only one who can play those games?” Godric forced her back with each strike.
Hoping she wasn’t making a fatal mistake, Shasta split her attention between the fight and her surroundings. A vine crept across her foot and up her ankle, holding her right leg in place. Godric’s sword blurred as it moved through the air. She parried the blow, but she didn’t escape the vine. She wouldn’t be able to stay in the fight much longer.
“You will release me!” Shasta barked as her sword locked with Godric’s and brought them body to body. The vine settled back on the ground, but now she was stuck in a different way. Shasta bit back a curse. Her arms burned as she held him off. It was only a matter of time before he shoved her back, putting her at a disadvantage. She needed to do something to delay his next attack.
His sword gave ever so slightly under hers. A cold knot of fear settled in her stomach. Maybe she’d been thinking about this wrong. The answer wasn’t being more elven, but embracing both sides of her heritage. She grabbed what little magic she had left. As he knocked her off balance, she thrust her magic into the earth in front of him, forcing it to soften. “Orzu.”
She stumbled, reeling as she tried to stay on her feet. She silently prayed her trick with the ground would work.
Godric smirked as he stepped closer. His foot sank up to his knee, and he pitched forward as he lost his balance. He managed to keep his sword in his hand as he caught himself, but both his legs were knee deep in the soft spot.
Now if she could solidify the ground, that would buy her the time she needed. “Fehu.”
Nothing happened.
The drop of magic she had left wasn’t enough to counteract the softening spell. Still, this was the best chance she was going to get to kill Delilah. Shasta dismissed her sword and bolted toward the pile of her gear. She grabbed her bow and an arrow, nocking it as she turned. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Godric slowly pulling himself out of the sinkhole. Delilah stepped to the side, revealing most of her torso. Her eyes were locked on Godric, and she didn’t see Shasta at all.
Shasta carefully aimed at Delilah’s throat. She exhaled and released the arrow. While it was in the air, she set another arrow in the bow. Delilah fell, dropping the knife and grabbing at the arrow lodged in her neck. Shasta smiled as she drew back the string for another shot. Delilah thrashed around and then rolled, presenting Shasta with an excellent kidney shot. She took it. If one didn’t kill Delilah, the other should. She dropped the bow and twisted her wrist, resummoning her sword.
A line of pain opened up across her bicep, radiating up her arm. Her hand spasmed, unable to catch her sword as it blinked into existence. Godric’s dagger landed on the ground a few feet away.
“No!” Godric bellowed. He charged toward her, sword raised.
Still holding her arm, Shasta tried to form a loose fist with her right hand. Her fingers refused to cooperate. Swearing, she let go of her arm and held her left hand out. She focused on the sword vanishing and twisted her wrist. It disappeared from the ground. With her hand curled into a loose fist, she focused on summoning her sword again. With a quick twist, it settled in her hand and she pivoted, bringing it up to block.
Godric’s sword crashed into hers, quite nearly knocking the blade out of her hand. “I’ll kill you for that!”
Shasta panted as she blocked blow after blow. “You were always going to kill me.”
“Yes, but now it will be slow.” He bared his teeth and brought the sword up under hers, knocking it out of her hand.
She dismissed and then summoned her sword once more, lunging at Godric while he was still blinking with surprise. He tried to jerk his body out of the way, but she managed to open up a shallow gash on his rib cage. It wasn’t enough to even the fight, but it was better than nothing.
He retaliated with a flurry of blows. Wielding her sword left-handed, she simply couldn’t keep up. He knocked the weapon out of her hand again and followed it with a kick to the chest.
Air whooshed out of her lungs as she fell. Her head bounced when she hit the ground. For a moment, her vision blurred. When it came back into focus, Godric was standing over her.
“I’ll kill your friends too.” His eyes were dilated so wide there was nothing but iris left.
Shasta stared at him, refusing to show fear. She may have failed to keep them safe, but she’d tried her very best. Her only regret was that her best hadn’t been enough.
Godric brought the sword over his head. He wasn’t lined up to properly decapitate her, but that didn’t seem to matter. His sword sliced through the air on its way toward her.
Shasta couldn’t stop herself from closing her eyes and turning her head away. She didn’t feel the sword, but she felt her collarbone crumple. She couldn’t hold back the screams. Nothing she’d ever felt before compared to this pain.
Distantly, she could hear Godric speaking, but her mind couldn’t make sense of the words over the pain. What felt like hours later—but was likely only seconds—she opened her eyes to see him eyeing her leg as he tightened his two-handed grip on the sword.
As if sensing the weight of her gaze, he looked her in the eye. “Perhaps you’d enjoy one of Gwen’s prosthetics.” He lifted the sword again.
Shasta closed her eyes and hoped she’d pass out from the pain.
The clang of metal connecting with metal surprised her into opening her eyes. Godric’s shoulders bunched as he tried to force his sword past another. Her eyes followed the other blade back to Wyrran. The hunter heaved Godric’s sword to the side and pushed him back with a quick thrust. “You were taught better than that.”
“I will not let that abomination live!” Godric screamed as he hacked at Wyrran.
Wyrran deflected the blows easily. “My brother taught you a great many things, but I know this type of blind hatred wasn’t one of them. You’ve gone insane. All of this to kill one of the two earth borns?”
Shasta sucked in small breaths, trying not to scream from the agony. While she agreed with Wyrran’s point, it would have been great if he’d shown up in time to stop Godric from shattering her collarbone.
Godric regrouped and attacked again. He moved as fast as he had before, but Wyrran was always a little quicker. “Elves do not have magic. That’s what was decreed. She violates that edict.”
Wyrran shook his head as he parried. “What was done can be undone. You more than anyone should know there are exceptions to rules. My brother made one for you.”
“Yet he denied me the knowledge of making a sword like the one she carries,” Godric spat. The edges of their weapons met, sending sparks into the air.
Wyrran opened up a shallow slice along Godric chest. “He proved he knew you better than everyone else.”
Godric slashed wildly at Wyrran, backing him toward the sinkhole.
Through the pain, Shasta reached out to the air for help. She silently asked for help. Carry these words to Wyrran, Force Godric to me so I can lay hands on him.
The air brushed across her cheek and carried her words away to Wyrran.
She could feel her blood seeping out, pouring into the earth. For the first time in hours, she sensed its steady hum. “I hope I pleased you and carried out the task you laid before me as you wished I would,” she whispered.
The heel of Wyrran’s boot sank into the soft spot, and he went on the attack. He chained combination after combination, forcing Godric to give up ground. As fast as Wyrran was, Godric kept pace, though Shasta could see the strain on his face. Wyrran maneuvered himself away from the sinkhole, and then he set his mind on turning Godric, forcing him to take steps back toward Shasta. Had she been in less pain, the sword work would have been a wondrous sight. Wyrran flowed through sequences as if they were meant to be chained together endlessly. When Godric did manage attacks of his own, Wyrran’s blade was always there, and his body was never in the path of Godric’s sword. While Wyrran was the best swordsman Shasta had ever seen, Godric was good enough to keep him from landing any debilitating blows.
When Godric was only ten feet away, Shasta started blocking out the pain. She couldn’t even feel the slice in her bicep, so she ignored that. Usually, it was better to have someone else do pain blocks on you, but she only had herself. She focused on her own body and stopped the feedback from nerves going to her right shoulder. While that didn’t take away all the pain, for the first time since the injury, she could think somewhat clearly. It was a temporary fix; the steady nerve input would overwhelm the block soon.
Wyrran forced Godric back another step. One more, and she should be able to grab him. She’d have to act fast, especially since their positions were wrong for Wyrran to easily defend her.
Godric spun to avoid Wyrran’s sword, bringing his own down toward the hunter’s legs. Wyrran jumped back but wasn’t fast enough. Godric’s sword cracked into Wyrran’s right leg, leaving a dent in the bone. As Wyrran crumpled to the ground, Godric stepped forward. Glancing past him to Shasta, Wyrran nodded ever so slightly. He tossed his sword in the air and grabbed it like it was a spear. He hurled it directly at Godric’s chest. Godric lurched back, dodging the sword and bringing both his legs into Shasta’s reach.
Shasta didn’t hesitate. She grabbed his ankle, forcing her fingers between his pants and socks until she touched bare flesh. He started to turn, but she knew her target. She focused on his heart and blocked the electrical impulses that made it beat. Then she drained all the energy from the part of the heart responsible for regulating the heartbeat. Godric’s heart stopped. She kept draining energy until the cells died.
He pulled out of her grasp and turned to look at her, his face pale. His sword fell out of his hand, plummeting toward her leg.
Shasta tried to scoot to the side, but the pain block on her shoulder failed, and she lost herself in the flood of brutal sensation. When another sharp pain cut through the rest, she didn’t have it in her to do anything other than scream.
Sometime later, she became aware of her name being called over and over again. She forced her eyes open.
Gwen leaned over. “Can you hear me?”
“Yes,” Shasta rasped.
“Which charms do I give everyone?” Gwen held up several of them.
“Red for whoever’s most injured other than me. Yellow for the next most injured. Give someone two if one charm isn’t enough.” Shasta closed her eyes. The torment was never going to end.
“I only have one red charm.” The pitch of Gwen’s voice increased. “What do I give you?”
Shasta didn’t bother to open her eyes. “It doesn’t matter. None of them, in any combination, can heal me.”
“Just hold on. I’ll … I’ll think of something.”
Gwen’s voice moved away. Shasta hoped she could go back to being unaware. The pain was terrible, and without a truly skilled healer, her shoulder would never be the same. Underneath her, the hum of the earth picked back up and almost seemed to carry her away. With it came words that were nearly indiscernible, even to her ears.
I am proud of you.
For a time Shasta basked in the earth’s approval. Yet she couldn’t help but ask, Why didn’t you help me?
Oh, child, only you can show others what you’re made of. I do not have the power to make them believe in you and your abilities. I am sorry for your pain.
Shasta relaxed back into the earth’s soothing rhythm. As much as she wished there had been a different way, she understood. But with the pain so close, her mind started back down the path of why everything had happened. Each time her thoughts strayed in that direction, the earth repeated itself.
Before long, the words began to sink in. Perhaps the earth could have turned the fight earlier, preventing these injuries, but it would have taken extraordinary actions to save Cord and Shiloh. Ones she had managed. And no matter what action the earth took, all that would have proved to the elves was that the earth came to her rescue, not that she was capable in her own right.
If only being capable didn’t include so much pain and debilitating injury.
Voices, ones not belonging to the earth, pulled her out of the trance. Shasta regretted the change because the pain came back with it. She clenched her teeth, unable to stop the whimpers from escaping.
“She’s still bleeding. Give me one of those charms,” Cord demanded.
“Here.” Gwen’s voice was clipped. “She said they couldn’t heal her. That’s why I gave Wyrran the strongest one.”
Cord swore. “I can’t heal her, but maybe …” He exhaled audibly. “We need to get her back to town. I can treat some of this, but not out here.”
The pain crashed over her, and she couldn’t hold back the screams. Whatever they were going to do, she hoped it included knocking her out. Warm hands cupped her cheeks. She forced her eyes open.
Cord tried to smile at her, but he couldn’t make it happen. Whatever charm Gwen had given him was doing its job because the cuts on his face were healing and the swelling was going down around his eye. “I got you. You’re going to be okay.”
