Page 201 of The Last One
The impact of the blades makes sparks fly.
Elyn kicks my chest, knocking me back.
This gives me time, though, to tighten my grip around Fury’s handle.
Elyn charges forward and swings—and swings too forcefully.
I parry, and she stumbles. I kick her in the back.
She cries out but spins around.
I don’t wait to swing.
She meets my blade with hers and backswings, hitting my side, splicing open the luclite.
With a scream of agony, I send a last burst of wind.
She stumbles but gains her balance and charges forward…
Right into my swing.
The blade nicks her neck, hitting a vein that spurts blood. The grip on her sword loosens as she tries to decide if she should tend to her neck or keep swinging. She holds up a hand, and I watch as she conjures tiny bolts of lightning that pop from her fingers.
But she’s waited too long.
My fireball hits her hand before she can get a bolt off.
She screams again, her face twisting. She may be a judge, but she is no warrior. She nurses her left hand but sets her feet anyway. Her glazed eyes flick past me.
Is that fear or acceptance that she will end soon?
I knock her back again with a tiny puff of wind.
She presses against the bleeding wound in her neck, so weak that my pitiful burst makes her stumble backward. Her eyes flick away from me again. She takes a deep breath, grabs her sword, and staggers in my direction, her sword as high as she can hold it.
I step forward to meet her swing but knock her back with a kick.
She drops her sword again.
I kick that sword up with the toe of my boot. Now I have dual blades. One with a bloody handle.
Elyn’s eyes widen. “Kai—”
“I know,” I say. “And I’m not even wearing fancy fucking armor. Give me my amulet.”
“Kai—” Something in my expression alarms her, and she tosses the amulet to the ground. Her nostrils flare, and she looks behind me with wild eyes.
“What are you looking for?” I ask, drawing closer. I’m not cocky, though. Dying snakes always have one last bite left—and that bite can kill. “Keep hoping, Grand Adjudicator, blah-blah-blah. No one’s gonna save you.”
The muscles in Elyn’s face relax. “Oh, but you’re wrong. He will.”
This time, I look over my shoulder and see that her help has arrived.
Jadon.
62
Jadon Wake stands twenty paces behind me, sword in hand. Thick fog builds behind him, and his face eases with the relief of seeing me alive…and then his face goes rigid with thedreadof seeing me alive.
