Page 51 of Shifter King
Groans rose from the other side as the illusions Umit cast faded and the prisoners escaped. Naatos stalked around Enver, tail lashing, claws scraping on stone.
Only six of the remaining Vawtrians were stuck in the illusions. Soon they too would break free. Their friends and companions kept them from lurching too close to the edge of the stone and supported their heads as they thrashed and convulsed.
Yet fear shone in the Abliato's eyes now. He lifted his chin as he grasped his staff.
"Saptu karuk," Enver said with perfect enunciation, clenching his fists tight as he pointed the staff at Naatos.
"You have to rely on clear words now, grand contender?" Naatos let the saber tiger form fall away. Scales replaced fur as his spine lengthened. His neck cracked, and his joints popped into a new position. The iron komodo was one he hadn't used for decades, but it was familiar with a powerful bite full of bacteria and slow-acting venom. Fear tasted especially rich in this form, sweetly sour and metallic.
He lunged at Enver. The Abliato dodged, nearly tripping over his robes. He bashed at Naatos with his staff, but it struck the marble with a loud clank.
Naatos hissed, advancing on him. His scales scraped across the smooth stone.
Enver backed away, jaw set and veins bulging.
He cast his hand out in a throwing motion. Four of the Vawtrians collapsed, shrieking.
Naatos didn't break his stride. They would be wounded, but they would survive and come out stronger. And they would realize they could endure illusions. Illusions always had an escape. There was no better way to gain immunity to illusions than to endure them and break free.
Enver struck again, sweat rolling down his neck and soaking the collar of his once impressive robes. "Those skinchangers—Vawtrians—they are trapped. I can make it so much worse for them."
"And then you will die and that will end." Naatos stalked closer, growling. "Your power does not extend beyond your will and breath. You are neither god nor spirit. And you will release them now so that your own death will not be so painful."
Enver's lips curled back. Hate danced in his eyes. He drew his hand down as if pulling something from the sky. Sweat shone on his brow.
This time a minor claw dug deeper. Just enough to create a slightly uncomfortable sensation. "Good," Naatos said. "I actually felt that. Did you finally decide to tap into your powers? Now would be a wise time to use them."
Enver cast his hand toward the Vawtrian youths. This time only one fell, and another one twisted free, gasping as she clawed her way to a seated position.
Time to wrap up. He brought the black storm dragon form to his mind, then let it tear through him. He didn't even have to lunge at Enver as his neck lengthened and his jaws transformed. He snapped his teeth in front of Enver's face, then seized him with his claws and flung him across the sand pit. When Enver struck the textured stone, he skidded and rolled.
Naatos followed across, moving with slow deliberation and giving the Abliato time to recover enough of his senses to process his situation. The sunlight beat hot against the back of his skull, the heat intensifying the muted scent of blood.
The Vawtrian youths backed away, crowding together and pulling the trapped ones with them. They stared at him, eyes wide and mouths agape as if suddenly uncertain what to think about anything. As if he might turn out to be the enemy. Fair enough.
Enver struggled to right himself, the torso of his robe shredded. A long slash ran down his chest along with three gouges in his chest and side. The wings on his back had not broken, but they flickered for a few breaths, then stabilized, still solid though the scales were less detailed.
Naatos grabbed him by the leg, dragging him across the textured stone and then flinging him back to the other side. More bones cracked as the Abliato collapsed back onto the marble. Still those wings held.
Shaking his head, Naatos crossed back with a single stride. Then he returned to his state of rest.
The sand sifted and swirled as two tentacles reached up, groping along the textured stone for more bodies. The Vawtrian youths backed away, eyes now fixed on the kraken.
He picked up his spear and swiped one of the tentacles with it. The tentacles flared back, a small streak of red along the outer side of one. He pulled the spear back in and sidestepped it easily. The tentacles dropped against the marble, striking the trails of blood and then moving along them.
Excellent.
Enver struggled to drag himself away, but Naatos stepped on his forearm. Crouching, he then tapped the double spearheads against the Abliato's chest. "I've heard that you have a habit of collecting skulls. I like that idea. I also like the idea of letting your precious kraken eat you."
Enver gurgled, his mouth stained with blood and his tattoos now livid and twitching against his forehead.
Naatos shoved him back easily, then stood. The kraken was getting closer. "But I want everyone to see you for what you are. A disgrace to all those who came before you." Shaking his head, he circled the fallen illusionist. "Now, my veskaro likes to tell me I can't have everything I want. Something about compromise. So I am considering the compromise that I might make here. How can I have all this and you suffer? Oh. Yes, I know. I'll just let the kraken take you after you've been put on display. For now though, you die." Lunging forward, he stabbed him with his spear.
It was good to make progress.
DREAMS AND SHIFTING
Amelia stared into the red eyes that had opened within the doorway. If there had been a door, she would have slammed it shut. Imagining one there accomplished nothing. Not even a plank within the doorway.
