He didn’t know what he could do to help his parents, but as his mind flashed to the moment where he’d decimated the fae kidnappers in Boston Below, he knew, he justknewhe could do it again.
The switch had been flipped, and now Clayton was the one in the driver's seat.
“See you soon,” Clayton said, giving Eira a cheeky salute, and then he leaped over the railing into a swarm of angry fae warriors clamoring for his blood.
Chapter
Thirty-Four
CLAYTON
It was like he was water flowing over river rocks. Simple and natural.
Clayton landed lightly on top of a fae warrior’s shoulders, crouched and ready. Before the man could react, Clayton plucked a sword from the man’s back sheath and sliced it across the throat of the warrior beside them.
Clayton got the urge to lean back, and the blade aiming for his face missed and sliced off the ear of the man he’d been standing on.
Clayton slid down the man’s back before he could retaliate, easily dodging several attacks from several enemies, all of them somehow taking out a fellow soldier rather than Clayton.
If Clayton had allowed himself to think about what he was doing, he’d never have been able to do it. Instead, he allowed himself to sink deep into a sense ofknowing.
He knew he would be okay, so he was. He knew he would win, so he did. There was nothing more he needed to do than trust the knowing and act.
Some of the warriors were throwing spells instead of physical attacks, and Clayton dodged them with ease as well. If he kicked a pebble, it went directly into an enemy’s eye. If he lashed out to strike, he always hit a vital area and sent his target careening into other warriors in the most devastating way possible.
Clayton was a one-man wrecking machine, slowly carving his way through the ranks of an increasingly flustered army.
A quick glance back at the boat showed Holly’s shield growing brighter than ever, and he was able to catch a glimpse of Holly sitting in a circle with Tommy, Merry, and Eira. She had a soft smile on her face, and it transformed her from a scared, angry kid to something ethereal.
Now that Clayton knew his home and family were safe, he could do something truly brilliant. Or stupid, depending on who was watching. The line between the two was razor-thin.
However, Clayton trusted himself, his plan, and Holly’s shield, so he was doing it.
Clayton had accidentally used some kind of force magic on Marshall back at Astraea’s glade. He didn’t know how he did it; it had been an automatic reaction when he was protecting Mal. Somehow, he had to figure out how to replicate the situation.
Clayton started to calculate positioning and distance between him, the loved ones he needed to protect, and the people trying to hurt them. Clayton had been right in front of Mal, and Marshal had been right in front of Clayton when his magic had activated, so maybe if Clayton was able to figure it all out just right…
Fuck it. Overthinking things always got him in trouble in an emergency. He had probability magic. All he had to do wasbelieve it would work out and then act. The details would sort themselves out.
He jumped on the back of another fae—a mage, it turned out—and the woman’s response was to use a spell to repel him into the ceiling. Clayton sailed upward and latched onto a sturdy stalactite. There was a handy little notch for him to get a good foothold and another one at the perfect spot for him to grab with his hand.
Clayton imagined being unrepentantly awesome and raining hell down on his enemies with magic—whilst avoiding his loved ones—then he grabbed his essence and projected it outward.
There was a brief tension in the air. Then, with a sizzle and the smell of ozone, drops of something hot and glowing began to drip down onto the fae soldiers below, forming a perfect circle around Holly’s shield and avoiding the confrontation between Kendric and his parents.
The soldiers screamed in agony as the magic rained down on them. Faces melted, armor shattered into dust, and entire limbs disintegrated into nothing. Anyone who got even a drop on their bodies was out of the fight, and those with more began to turn to charred ash like it was corrosive.
The magic didn’t touch anything but the soldiers—not Holly’s shield, nothing near the battle on Kendric’s side of the cave, and not even the cave itself.
Wow. That was far better than what Clayton had done to Marshall. Actually, it was really good that he hadn’t done that to Marshall, or else Clayton would never be able to show his face in the Real again.
Not that he was certain he’d be able to go back now that Marshall knew about Mal.
Clayton would cross that bridge later.
He saw Naerith looking up at him and cheering with his fist in the air. Clayton couldn’t hear him, but he assumed he saidsomething like, “That’s my boy!” or “My son is the best person ever, and everyone else’s kids are shit in comparison!”
Something fatherly like that.
