I sprout my dark angel wings, fly up the wall, and take hold of the spear by its wooden shaft even as a wave of nauseating energy sweeps over me.
Wow, there’s a lot of silver in this thing, though I suspect its made of an allow, as silver is too soft to keep much of an edge during combat.
Once done, I wave to a little girl who’d just rounded a nearby corner and is staring up at me, mouth open. Then I summon the single flame and see within it the cliff’s edge in the Grand Canyon.
And away I go...
***
Mark
There’s that bitch now. Oh, wait, does she have black wings now, or am I seeing things? No way, no way.What the hell is she?
And what’s that in her hands? A frickin’ spear?
I nearly laugh, except that the T-Rex’s can’t laugh, and how weird would it be if they could?
Well, it can’t, and so all I can do is watch as she tucks those black wings in, and dives down at me from high above, spear held out before her like she’s a jousting knight.
***
Samantha
Wind thunders over my ears.
I feel the dark wings shuddering behind me, as does my trailing hair. I hold the spear before me, my hands evenly spacedalong the shaft. I position it in such a way that I can make the necessary adjustments to ensure it lands home.
I almost feel bad for Mark. This is going to hurt.A lot.
I hear Anthony’s voice in my head:Play stupid games, win stupid prizes...
Well, big guy here is about to win a stupid prize.
I pour on the speed, slicing down through the hot canyon air. The river surges below. The sun shines high above. It’s easier to hunt a beast. Not so sure I could have driven the spear home into a man.
I cut through the sulfur-hazed sky like a shadow on a mission. Below me, Mark, no longer a man but a monster reborn, thrashes, tail carving trenches into the muddy river shore. His tiny arms swat uselessly at the sky, trying to keep me at bay. He roars up at me, jaws wide enough to swallow a car, serrated teeth dripping with hot saliva.
He’s too slow; I dive.
Wind screams past me, feathers snapping. His jaws lunge upward as a living guillotine, but I veer to the side, avoiding them. I circle back in a loop, and reappear between those ridiculous, flailing little arms.
In my hands: the spear. Silver laced with something else, perhaps steel, a weapon hammered during the Crusades (if I recall the speech of our tour guide from all those years ago) by an alchemist who believed dragons were still real. Its tip shines like winter frost.
Mark sees it too late.
Heart cold and resolve absolute, I steel myself and drive the spear down with everything I have. The alloyed silver point splits scales like wet parchment, punching through hide, bone, muscle, and the monstrous power beneath. It sinks deep... all the way to the hilt, then bursts out his back in a spray of steaming blood.
For a moment, time seems to hold its breath. His eyes, once ancient and furious, widen with recognition: silver, heart, death.
The T-Rex convulses, and the roar dies in his throat. Mark’s massive form stiffens, then collapses sideways, shaking the canyon like thunder. Dust plumes. Echoes bounce for miles.
The king has fallen.
I land on top of him, wings spread wide, spear buried to the haft, a dark angel over a slain god.
Minutes later, a big pile of ash takes the creature’s place. That’s a good thing. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with the body of a T-Rex...
Chapter Twenty-Two
