Page 106 of The Tree of Spirits
“Fine,” Conner said, standing.
“Mostly.” Kato’s armor made an excruciating screech of protest when he rose from the ground.
“That doesn’t sound good.” Conner examined the armor. “It’s damaged.”
Kato stretched out his arms. “Don’t worry. My armor will survive the battle.”
The three Templars hit my shield with a combined magic blast that totally shredded it.
“I’m too weak,” I sighed as broken branches rained down on us.
“You’re not weak, Seven. They are too strong in those suits,” said Kato. “We need to even the odds.” He clapped his hands, and three mystical-looking handheld mirrors appeared.
“The Mirror of Woe,” I said as he handed one to each of us.
“Mirror of Woe?” Conner’s tone sounded amused.
“One of Altair’s creations,” Kato told him. “I asked him to make more of them after the original proved so effective at knocking the armor off the Techno Knight at the Tournament.”
I gripped the silver handle in my hand. The cozy scene in the stained glass mirror rippled, the artwork changing to display a pretty accurate depiction of the shorter of the two male Templars. I thrust the mirror forward, toward him.
There was a loud, crunching sound, then a chunk of his leg armor dropped to the ground, splashing into a puddle. More pieces of armor fell from his body, each one dented and twisted, like a giant had ripped them off and then stomped on them.
Beside me, Kato and Conner were using their mirrors to pluck the armor off the other Templars, piece by piece.
“Well, that’s one way to do it,” Conner said as he watched what remained of the techno suits spark and sizzle—before all the lights finally went out. “Though I have to say, defeating them like this is pretty unsatisfying.”
“I am not defeated,” the female Templar said as she shed her battered armor like a butterfly emerging from a chrysalis.
The other two Templars still lay on the ground.
Beneath her armor, the female Templar wore a black fabric suit from head to toe, with tiny slits for her eyes, like a ninja. “I don’t need a fancy suit to defeat you.”
Then she planted her feet wide, shifted into an enormous bear, and threw back her head, roaring. She pounded her furry fists together, and flames burst up on them.
“She’s a Polymage,” Conner gasped as we all ducked the fireball. “Even without the armor.”
“Didn’t you say we were the only Polymages in the Many Realms?” I asked the boys.
“I thought so.” Kato sounded pretty shocked.
The Templar waved her arms, using telekinesis to create a tornado of broken branches in front of us.
“Well, this isn’t good,” I commented.
The tornado was headed right for us. Conner grabbed our hands just in time, taking us just far enough out of this dimension that the branches went right through us. Then Kato’s spell dissolved them to dust.
The other two Templars were on their feet again, staggering under the weight of their warped, lopsided armor. They tossed aside their broken helmets, and they weren’t wearing ninja hoods underneath. I could see their faces.
“Do you recognize them?” I asked the boys.
“Yes,” said Kato. “They’re both notorious mercenaries. That one is a Dreamweaver named Starling.” He pointed at the man with a scar that bisected his face. “And he’s Harlyn, a Metamorph.”
“So they’re not Polymages like the other Templar?”
“No,” Conner said, putting up an energy shield to block the picnic bench Harlyn had tossed at us.
Meanwhile, the female Templar was chanting. A burst of bright purple energy exploded out of her.
