Page 20 of Shield of Fire

“Tell that to the people who’d lived in the Watergate Street terrace that was destroyed last night.” I climbed wearily to my feet, using the arm of a sofa as a brace, then swiped at the blood running down the side of my face.

I obviously looked as big a mess as I felt, because fear flickered briefly across her features, and she took a step back. Which was a totally sensible reaction in the circumstances, really.

“The door?” I prompted, trying to keep my voice as even and as non-scary as I could.

Her gaze swept me but after a moment, she said, “This way.”

I followed her down, my hand on the banister, its soft song telling me there were three other people in the building, all huddled in what appeared to be a storeroom toward the rear.

When we reached the ground floor, the woman glanced over her shoulder and said, in a tight voice, “This way.”

She led me away from the storeroom and her companions through a well-established nail salon to the front door. She opened it and then took several steps back. “Go.”

“Thanks,” I said, and hurried out.

She locked the door behind me. I sucked in a deeper breath that went some way to clearing the brain fog and then glanced up. I couldn’t see the elf and I had no sense of the ruby’s dangerous energy, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t there. I caught the wind and cast her toward the roof; she came back empty a few seconds later. The elf was gone, but his hairy friend remained. He’d obviously been knocked out cold when he’d toppled.

I turned and headed for the side street. Multiple sirens now filled the air, suggesting there was more than just one patrol car on the way. But all the emergency services would likely be on edge after last night’s massacre, and the report of an elf, a pixie, and a hairy giant fighting on a rooftop would undoubtedly have spurred them all into immediate action.

I turned into the side street and discovered a battlefield.

Mathi stood in the middle of the road, surrounded by three men—one of them the stranger who’d watched us earlier. A fourth man lay at his feet, as did, rather weirdly, a pile of brown mud on top of which lay a coat the same color as the one the stroller-pushing woman had been wearing. She was nowhere to be seen, but the empty stroller lay on its side on the pavement to the right of the group. If it had contained a child or anything else, there was no evidence of it.

I reached for the air to help Mathi out, but pain exploded through my brain and my vision blurred. I swallowed heavily, drew a knife instead, and then ran, with what little speed I had left, straight at the nearest man.

He heard me at the last moment and turned, but I was already in the air. My feet thudded into his chest and sent him sprawling backward. The second man swung toward me as I fell back to the ground; I ducked under his blow, then slashed the knife across his calves, severing flesh and muscle with equal ease.

He howled and bent, clutching at his leg. I quickly flipped a knife and smashed the hilt across his head. His eyes rolled back, and he crumpled to the ground.

Mathi took out the final man, then stepped forward and knocked out the one I’d sent flying.

I sucked in a quivering breath and said, “There’s one more on the roof.”

“The mage? Or someone else?”

“The mage has gone.” Which surprised me a little. He hadn’t seemed the type to be put off by a little toss across several rooftops. “But a hairy giant remains, and I don’t have the strength to bind him with the wind.”

He cupped a hand under my elbow to help me up, then guided me across to the nearest car. “You lean here. I’ll go take care of the hairy giant.”

“He’s big and fast?—”

“And I have a gun. Trust me, even hairy giants aren’t fools.” He scanned me, his expression concerned. “Will you be all right? You don’t look in a fit enough state to deal with a troublesome gnat right now, let alone any of these bastards if they wake.”

“I’m fine, Mathi.”

He raised an eyebrow, looking unconvinced, but nevertheless turned and went. A few minutes later, there was an almighty crash. I turned around so quickly my head spun, and I had to grip the car’s mirror to remain upright.

The stairs leading up to the roof terrace had collapsed, taking the giant with them. He lay unmoving on the ground, sandwiched between the stairs’ metal remains. Mathi was standing on the edge of the roof terrace and, for several seconds, didn’t move. Waiting, I suspected, to see if our giant was actually unconscious. When there was no sign of movement, he leapt lightly down, checked the big man’s pulse, and then strolled toward me.

“He’s knocked himself out and broken his leg, so he won’t be going anywhere soon.”

“He tried to break my head, so I’m not feeling any sympathy.” I scrubbed a hand through my hair, feeling a lump but no obvious cut. “What happened to the woman? Why is her stroller over by that wall? Did you throw it?”

“I did indeed, but that was no woman. It was a golem.”

Which explained the pile of dirt under the coat. Golems were animated, anthropomorphic, but incomplete creatures created out of mud or clay. They were also, if legends were to be believed, designed to be companions, messengers, and sometimes even a rescuer.

“Why on earth would the elf raise a golem? A correctly placed hit can easily destroy them, and that makes them ill-suited to thuggery.”

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