The Fisans roar in fury.
That’s right. I’ve learned new tricks.
They charge. Beta Sinta maneuvers his horse in front of me, blocking the first attack and bellowing at me to leave. Weapons flash. The Sintans form a solid wall of horse and muscle between my enemies and me. They’re fierce and thrilling to watch, and for a moment, I almost think the Fisans won’t get through. But four against thirty never goes well, no matter who the four are.
At first, I’m the only one on my feet. Hooves grind the earth. Dust flies in my eyes. Metal clashes, sparking, heating the air and dulling my ears. I’m not sure how long it takes to unhorse the Sintans, but they eventually end up on the ground. Apart from the dead bowmen, no one has magic. Except Otis. I know what he’s got, and I can’t wait to give some back.
A hole forms in my line of defense. Kato is down and bleeding from a long gash in his thigh. He rolls to avoid a downward thrust, kicks his attacker in the head with his good leg, and holds off another with his mace.
I race toward him, reaching for a dagger that isn’t there.
“Talia!”
I skid to a stop to face Otis. Stupid, but it’s not as if he doesn’t know it’s me. He leaps through the hole left by Kato, who’s now grappling with three men on the ground. Beta Sinta roars something I can’t make out over the clash of swords. He’s probably still trying to get rid of me. He wants me gone now? He hasn’t let me out of his sight for a bloody month!
“She’s mine!” Otis snarls.
Oh, good. He wants me all to himself.
“You murdering little bitch,” he spits. “You’ll pay for what you did.”
I scrunch up my face and make fake sobbing sounds. “He didn’t have it coming at all. Let’s all stop fighting and cry.”
“Did you enjoy slicing him open?”
Not one bit. “Very satisfying. Really bloody. But you know all about that, don’t you?”
Otis smiles viciously. “Weakness is never rewarded.”
“Good thing I’m not weak.”
He smirks, gathering red-hot power in his hand and holding it there just to try to intimidate me. “You know what I can do to you.”
Yes.
“I’ve done it before.”
Now I can do it back.
There’s such maniacal glee in his eyes that it scares me. Not because I fear him, but because I could have been him.
The first lash comes too fast for me to defend myself. Long, thin, burning, the whip unfurls from his hand and strikes with the speed of a snake.
I cry out, a red welt rising across my neck and chest. With the pain and pulsing heat come a jolt of power as Otis’s Fire Magic fuses with my blood. I float on the wave of unfamiliar magic, readjusting. Then I grin, rather maniacally I imagine, and strike back.
Otis yelps and touches his face. The slash runs diagonally across his right eye, scorching off the middle of his eyebrow. His magic-induced injury doesn’t heal in a matter of seconds like mine does—another benefit of Poseidon’s gift.
“Just giving you a scar to match Beta Sinta’s.” I cock my head. “I’m rather impressed with my aim.”
Otis’s eyebrows, or what’s left of them, snap together. “Beta Sinta?” He didn’t even know who he was fighting, or that attacking the people with me would constitute a major act of war. He didn’t care. “Traitor!”
“Blah, blah, blah.” I pretend to yawn.
“Cat!” Beta Sinta bellows. He throws off two men, plants a dagger in the sternum of another, and then sweeps his leg around to bring a fourth one crashing to the ground. He created an opening for me. “Run!”
Fierce, skilled, powerful—utterly commanding—right now, he’s hard to ignore. Good thing I’ve had practice.
“He wears the scar better,” I say, turning back to Otis. “It’s much manlier on him. By the way, how’s your mother?”
Otis bares his teeth, gathering magic in his palm again.
Are you stupid?
Now I remember. Yes.
My sword raised in my left hand, I catch the whip of flame with my right one and then send it back. Instead of letting go, I strike one, two, three times.
Otis screeches, red blossoming across his face, neck, and torso.
“Not much fun, is it?” I keep striking until his tunic hangs in shreds. The skin beneath is raw and blistered, oozing blood. When he attacks again, his fire doesn’t faze me. It only strengthens what I’ve already claimed.
I laugh at the flicker of fear in his eyes. Using the same magic never means doing it with equal power. Otis knows I can skin him alive.