Page 130 of Pirate Witch
I’m outnumbered and disadvantaged by the fact that I’m actively trying to keep both of them away from Kier’s body as well as defend myself. The Eagle and the Alchemist are well suited to fighting with one another. Then there’s an added complication. The queen is healing before my eyes at a rate that’s fast—even by immortal standards. Is that a side effect of the mortal cure, or something Lily’s given her?
However she’s managed it, most of her minor wounds are already gone. It’s going to take a direct hit to the heart, or a beheading, to deal with her.
A fist flies out of nowhere and slams into my nose. There’s a sickening crunch, followed by an agonising pain that sends me staggering back. My eyes water, blurring my vision, but I don’t get a chance to wipe the moisture away because they’re on me again.
In a last ditch effort, I drop my sword and grab the Alchemist’s hair, twisting us both so she’s pressed against my chest, facing the Eagle. The move puts her in the path of the Queen’s next strike.
Something punches me in the gut, just below my ribs. The impact blooms quickly into a sharp, fiery sting. I push the Alchemist off me and stagger back, only to see the tip of a sword protruding from her body.
The Eagle’s sword went straight through her Alchemist and into me.
Lily falls onto Catherine, clutching at her queen while I stagger backward.
Goddess, that hurts.
I drag yet more Solar power from my charms into my own body, muttering a healing spell. The wound closes, but it’s a rough job. More like a magical bandage than a true healing. The charm is almost empty, and I curse myself for insisting on restricting the amount of Solar power I have access to. Yes, my back is burning more and more with each use, but that won’t matter if I die in the next five minutes.
I scoop my sword up again, sheath my athame and turn to face the Eagle. Lily is on the floor, unmoving, but I don’t dare assume that she’s dead. She’s immortal. A blow like that won’t keep her down forever.
Which means I only have a small window to end her permanently.
With one hand I parry Catherine’s incoming blow, with the other, I summon a spirit blade and stab down into Lily’s chest.
Her body disappears in a cloud of ash.
Dead.
Thank the Goddess. Maybe I finally have a chance now.
Killing her—although necessary—comes at a cost. For precious seconds while I’m distracted, my back is completely undefended. The Eagle raises her sword, yelling out a victory cry as she readies herself for a second strike.
Clang!The sound almost deafens me as her blade strikes a shield of solar power barely an inch from my kidneys. Catherine used so much force that, when her sword is deflected, she staggers backwards, giving me room to get back to my feet.
Cheap fucking move, bitch.
If not for the power of the Sun, I’d be dead. With a silent prayer of thanks to the other goddess, I let the golden curtain around me dissipate so I can meet my opponent’s furious glare once more.
“You’re going to pay for that,” she promises, drawing back and circling me.
Of the two of us, I’m the worse for wear. My nose is almost certainly broken. I have a barely healed stab wound on my abdomen, and I’m bleeding from my arm. On top of that, the sigils on my back are burning like they’re being tattooed on my back all over again.
In contrast, Catherine has a rapidly healing shallow wound to her spine and nothing more.
It doesn’t matter. I’ll win. I’ve got to.
Our swords sing as we duel. Her movements are desperate now, and it doesn’t take long for her to fall back on her stolen powers. I’m so focused on keeping her away from Kier that, without meaning to, we draw closer and closer to the missing wall. Furniture, papers, and tripods are knocked aside as we inch toward the open sky and the sea beyond it. My sigils are on fire with the amount of magic I’m channelling, and my stomach is in agony. It’s all I can do not to double over from the pain.
I can’t give up. Not now. Just a little longer.
Catherine’s sword clashes against mine again and again. She’s a good fighter. Well trained. And she has the benefit of her unnatural strength, which forces me to waste power on the strength sigils on my arms to compensate.
“You should’ve taken my offer,” the human queen growls.
“You should’ve run when you had the chance,” I retort, aiming a bolt of power through my athame towards her ribs, then cursing when she dodges.
Her blade glows with a mage circle for a second before the edge ignites, the flames adding an extra layer of danger to this dance. I parry her next blow and sparks fly, forcing me to close my eyes or risk being blinded.
Fine. If she wants to fight dirty, then she’s not the only one with a fancy sword.
