The fey looked down at it, too, for half a second, before toppling over and smashing into smoke against the floor. It wouldn’t last; he wasn’t dead. This whole thing would have disappeared if that were the case. But he was hurt, and that meant—
“Whatever you’re trying to do,” Billy yelled, sword in hand, “do it now!”
I stared around, knowing I didn’t have long. But it wouldn’t take long. If I could only find the right image, the right mind—
And then I did. It was small and far away, but when I concentrated, it zoomed toward me. Like a wide-screen TV and then a theater screen and then an IMAX, filling my view.
And this time, I let it come.
Chapter Fifty-eight
The sky was blue again. It arced overhead, like an upside-down bowl, clear and strong and perfect. I could see glimpses of the fight that raged beyond: the shadow of a body, as if thrown against the sky, magnified to giant-sized before disappearing again. Streaks of light, like deadly rainbows, flashing overhead. Flames dancing in the distance, like trees glimpsed through fog.
But all of it strangely peaceful.
Because all of it was outside the watery protection of Nimue’s shield.
Under the dome, the Svarestri I was possessing dodged a stinging arc of sand and then threw it back, laughing. Because earth was his
element, and wasn’t likely to work against him. And because Nimue was at a serious disadvantage.
Aeslinn’s brain obligingly informed me that the fire the witches had started had been aimed at the shield. Being attacked by a wave of Svarestri early in the duel had forced her to encase the combat area in her protection, ensuring no further interference. And putting Aeslinn’s device completely out of reach.
I could see it now, glowing under the sands of the arena: Arthur’s sword was pulling power from the other pieces of that cursed armor, and becoming stronger by the second. But one look at Nimue’s face showed that she was too lost in an Ares-inspired frenzy to notice. And no one else could reach it until the duel ended.
But it didn’t look like that was going to be anytime soon. A tornado exploded through the small area under the dome, sweeping the body I was using off its feet and into a maelstrom of fury. But not for long. As soon as Aeslinn hit earth, it flowed over him, cradling him, pulling him in. Building a bulwark around him that the pounding winds couldn’t penetrate, and allowing his opponent to exhaust herself for nothing.
Yet he didn’t go on the offensive when the winds abruptly stopped, raining sand down everywhere. He didn’t do anything. Because he wasn’t trying to win; he was trying to run out the clock.
And he was succeeding.
Pritkin and the witches were turning the stadium into an inferno to try to evaporate that shield, and let them in. But it was like trying to burn through the sea; all their spells barely touched it. And deploying it had limited Nimue to a single weapon in an element that was not her own.
The result: she was losing, but not fast enough. And I couldn’t help her; the immense amount of effort needed to throw that other fey’s spear offside had been nothing to this. No matter what I did, Aeslinn’s efforts remained undisturbed, elegant and lightning fast. I wasn’t the one holding him back—he was.
He was teasing her, egging her on, keeping the fight going and them entrapped in their own little world. But not hurting her—not really. Because then . . .
What would she do then?
I stared at Nimue, at the beauty hidden behind a mask of blood, at the eyes gone wild, at the face set on snarl. It was easier to see the woman within now, to glimpse the iron usually covered by velvet, the warrior instead of the queen. And the vicious pride that matched anything Aeslinn could boast.
I thought I had my answer.
Which was why, the next time Aeslinn sent a blast back at her, laden with cutting sand and smothering earth, I didn’t oppose him. Instead, I helped, adding whatever small effect I had to the strength of his assault. And maybe I was more powerful than I’d thought, or maybe he was just overcompensating for my previous efforts. But for whatever reason, the blow landed.
And it landed hard.
I heard Nimue scream, saw the shock register, saw her personal shields dissolve in tatters. And saw her look up at the only other protection available to her, which was also the only thing keeping out the inferno. It was barely a flicker of her eyes, but it was enough to tell me that I’d been right.
Because if she was going down, she was taking Aeslinn with her.
He realized it the same moment I did, but he was halfway across the arena and the shield’s source was on her arm. He dove for it anyway, and with his speed, he might have made it. I’ll never know if throwing everything I had left at him was enough to slow him down, or if Nimue was just that fast.
I only know he missed.
And suddenly, the world was fire.
It burned through the towering stands that rose around us on every side. It blew through the air in flaming bits scattered through choking clouds of smoke. It roared in the howl of the winds that were released when our protection dropped. And it sizzled in the avalanche of spells that threatened to melt the very sand underneath my feet.