Page 9 of Junk Magic

Which was why the next few seconds devolved into a tornado of magic, flung potions and flying weapons, the latter because a war mage’s arsenal can levitate and fight independently.

Not that that made any difference. My weapons were firing, stabbing and blowing holes the size of basketballs in the sides of Cyrus’s new digs. But the creature moved like nothing I’d ever seen, so fast that I literally couldn’t track it with my eyes, only getting glimpses whenever it paused for a millisecond.

And it didn’t do that much.

Even worse, when something of mine did connect, it didn’t seem to have much effect. The bastard shrugged off bullets and knives like bee stings, barely paused at potions, and didn’t seem to mind when half of the roof caved in. And when I rolled off the table, hit the floor, and sent a spell powerful enough to have knocked the damned creature the length of a football field away, the only reaction was the blowback—on me. I went sailing through the door to the hall, like from the recoil of the world’s largest gun, while the creature went nowhere.

Except straight at me again.

I caught a glimpse of liquid movement and did the only thing I could think of, namely the opposite of the spell I’d just thrown. Instead of trying to eject him from the camper, I drew it in on top of him. Casting a spell that caused the two sides of the hall to scrunch in on each other like a metal fist, in an attempt to trap the thing.

Which . . . might not have been my best move.

Because it tore free by the simple procedure of ripping the trailer in half. My part must have gotten shoved backwards in the process, because it abruptly went rolling on the two wheels it had left, scattering the fire and knocking me back to my knees. But the distance finally gave me my first good look at what I was fighting.

I almost wished it hadn’t.

It had the general shape of a wolf, if wolves were sixteen feet tall. And had strangely elongated limbs, a hunched back, claws like short swords and a maw that looked big enough to swallow me whole. It looked like someone had taken the idea of a werewolf and told some Hollywood effects studio to push it to the limit, and then to push it some more. And to keep on pushing until it broke the brain to look at it, because what was left wasn’t the sleek, deadly predator of legend, which was beautiful in its own right.

But something straight out of a nightmare.

It leapt for me again and I forgot my training, at least the part about not screaming and wetting yourself. But I nonetheless managed to throw the worst item in my arsenal: a very nasty little device called a dislocator. It does exactly what the name implies, relocating the parts of your body that it has selected to fuck up to other areas, leaving arms growing out of your sternum or feet quite literally in your mouth.

Or, at least, that’s what the illegal street versions do. The Corps’ variety isn’t so kind. What I threw should have had pieces of the creature springing off its body and adhering to any available surface—the other half of the trailer, the surrounding rocks, each other—until there was nothing left but a scream echoing in the night.

You notice I said should.

Because the dislocator landed—I damned well saw it. But the effect wasn’t what I’d intended. The creature’s body literally leapt apart all right, pieces springing off the trunk and scattering into the air like a fleshy bomb—

For about a second. Then they were flying together again as if they’d been attached by a bunch of rubber bands, ones that had reached their limit and snapped back. Although into what, I didn’t know.

All I could see was a storm of fur and bone and sinew, a working mass of body parts wrapped in a fog of blood. It was horrible and fascinating and terrifying, all at the same time. Although not as much so as when it stopped.

And the creature stood there, not in part but all of it, together again as if nothing had ever happened.

And immediately leapt for me again.

But, this time, something leapt for it, too. Out of the shadows came a blur of motion that I didn’t identify as Cyrus in wolf form until he landed on the thing’s back, ripping, snarling and tearing. And dying, any second now, if I didn’t do something!

The momentary paralysis that had left me staring in shock finally broke, and I leapt out of the still moving trailer. I felt dirt and burning embers under my feet, along with some glass shards from the shattered window that I’d picked up when I hit the kitchen floor. I barely noticed. Like I only dimly saw the other wolves gathering around, their eyes shining in the night, reflecting the light from the few scattered logs that were still on fire.

They registered, but they were distant, vague, like the pain in my body where the creature’s blow had connected, like the sighing of the wind over the desert, like my heart pounding in my ears.

None of it mattered; only Cyrus.

The darkness brightened, time seemed to slow down, and for a moment, I could see everything: the motes of burning ash in the air, like fireflies drifting across the scene; the beams of moonlight cascading through a gap in the clouds; the surrounding boys, some still in wolf form, others just changed back and crouched low to the ground, disbelief and horror on their faces.

And Cyrus, locked in a battle he couldn’t win, but that he would fight nonetheless—to save me.

Then I was up and moving, my coat in one hand, my potion belt in the other. Because I wasn’t a damsel in distress; I was a war mage. I did the saving.

And I’d better do it soon.

I started running just as Cyrus slashed a gash across the creature’s throat, spewing a gout of blood out onto the air. It hadn’t even hit the soil when a great claw grabbed him off the misshapen back and threw him what must have been forty feet, into the side of a cliff. I didn’t have time to see how he landed or if he was all right. Because the hero-worshipping circle of boys gave a howl, and jumped for the monster who had hurt their mentor.

And were savaged by a hurricane of slashing claws.

“No!” I yelled. “Get back! Get out of there!”

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