“My own daughter won’t even spend quality time with me,” he tutted at her.
Elyse ignored the way his words slithered through her stomach. He had no right to call himself her father, not after the upbringing she’d had.
“She might not—but I will.”
Lazarus spun toward the voice. It was Killian who had spoken, his tone threatening. In one hand, he clutched the Blade of Hanael, his grip tight. The other hand was splayed open towardLazarus. It took a moment for Elyse to realize that he was standing inside the circle.
Killian let loose a barrage of flames that blasted Lazarus’s shield. His face was contorted as he gave everything he had to his magic. His shoulders rose and fell rapidly. Elyse had seen the gash across Killian’s back, the blood that coated most of his shirt. But she knew he wouldn’t stop until his mission was complete.
Lazarus leaned into his shield as he pushed back against the flame. Without warning, Killian let the fire sputter out and immediately raised his own shield. Lazarus was already on the attack, sensing Killian’s intentions. Killian whipped his shield up in time to block the incoming death hex.
The men engaged in a battle, back and forth, shields dropping and spells firing. For each spell Killian shot off, Lazarus blasted three in return. Elyse transported around the edge of the circle, trying to fire spells at Lazarus when his guard was down. Without needing to shield herself, Elyse was able to release an onslaught of magic. She pushed herself to move faster, to strike harder, even as her body and magic both screamed at her. Each time, her magic was too late. Even tired and suppressed, Lazarus’s power still outmatched hers.
Killian was slowly closing in on Lazarus, the Blade of Hanael raised and ready. Yet he was still too far. The Blade was too short, and Killian would need to get within a few feet of Lazarus to stab the demon. Still, he pressed forward, chasing Lazarus around the enclosure.
Elyse’s arms ached with each spell that shot from her hands, and sweat soaked her hair. Killian was breathing hard, but hewas still fighting. He dropped his shield and sent a stunning spell at Lazarus’s chest.
Lazarus was ready.
Elyse saw it all plainly. Lazarus side-stepped the spell with ease. At the same time, he sent a death hex barreling toward Killian.
Killian wasn’t ready. He flicked his hands to raise his shield, but the spell was already hurtling toward him.
”No!” Elyse screamed. She would not lose him again.
She lunged forward. With a desperate force, she sent an explosion of air toward Killian. Dirt whipped through the air as Killian was blasted backward. He flew outside the circle, back out to safety, right as the death hex dissolved into the barrier.
Elyse landed on her knees in the hard dirt, her hair falling into her face. Between the silvery strands, she could see Lazarus’s boots marching toward her. She lifted her head to see Lazarus peering down at her, a grin across his wicked face.
”Come to play at last?” he asked.
Dread seeped into her stomach like venom. On instinct, she flicked her shield into place. As she looked over her shoulder, she realized with a sickening horror that she had landed inside the circle.
She tried to scramble to her feet, to call for Killian’s help. But Lazarus clapped his hands, and a circle of fire erupted around them. The flames were nearly ten feet high, and she couldn’t see anything beyond them. Yet she could feel their heat lapping at her shield.
It was just the two of them now. Until death claimed one of them.
46
Killian
Killian’s back collided with the ground before sliding an extra ten yards. He grimaced as the dirt tore at the wound in his back, but that wasn’t the worst of it.
The explosion Elyse had set off was powerful. The air had been strong enough to tear holes in his shirt. It had ripped the crystal from his wrist, the bracelet landing somewhere on the arena floor, likely trampled already. But worst of all, the Blade of Hanael had been knocked from his grip.
He rolled onto his side and squinted through the anarchy around him. There were fewer people sprinting through the arena now, most civilians hopefully having been escorted to safety. But there were still those who fought for a chance at wealth.
The rulers looked to be safe, sequestered away in the pagoda, a small army of soldiers surrounding them. A handful of civiliansattempted to push their way past the guards, but none were successful. Hellhounds tried to pick at stragglers, but Zubir’s cousins were doing a good job of holding them off.
Killian spotted Elyse. Her shield surrounded her, but she looked exhausted, her shoulders slumped and her hair wild. Lazarus was towering over her. Which meant, Killian realized, that she was trapped inside the circle.
He blinked, and she was gone. A wall of flames surged from the ground, blocking her and Lazarus from view. He didn’t know whether it was Elyse’s doing or Lazarus’s, but the pit of dread in his stomach told him it was the latter.
Shit. Killian scrambled to his feet. He was no use without the crystal to channel his magic, and there was no getting through the fire. He breathed hard, trying to remind himself that Elyse was a warrior. She wasn’t helpless in there, even if she was alone.
“Hold on, Elyse,” he uttered aloud. “I’m coming.”
He pivoted, his gaze scanning the dirt for any sign of the Blade of Hanael. Other weapons had been discarded around the arena, either from those fleeing in terror, or those dropped by the dead and wounded. None of them had the distinct curved blade and dark hilt he sought.
