“A dog would listen better,” he grates out.
“Five of us. A dozen heads.” Carver looks back and forth between the Hydra and us. “If we consider each head an enemy, we’ve fought our way out of worse odds than that.”
“Except each of those heads is the size of five men grouped together,” Kato says. “Or ten Cats.”
“I heard that,” I mutter indignantly. It doesn’t matter that it’s true.
“Let’s not get technical,” Carver says. “It’s bad for morale.”
“Fourof us.” Griffin looks pointedly at me. “You have no magic left to fight with, at least not any magic you know how to control. Youwill notbe foolish.” His deep voice resonates with that authoritative quality I find intriguing in a number of situations, particularly in the bedroom, but which lately, usually coupled with his nearly pathological overprotectiveness, I could do without.
“I have knives,” I counter. “And a sword. I’m not exactly useless.”
“If you throw any blades, do it from back here.” I open my mouth to argue, and Griffin’s eyes narrow. “We both know you’re not too far away to hit your mark.”
I close my mouth with a click.
“Kato, Flynn, take that side.” Griffin points to the left. “Carver, you’re with me. Cat, don’t move.”
They all charge at once, leaving me high up and alone on the spongy bank. I unhook my cloak, drop it, and then race toward the fray. Did Griffin honestly think I wouldn’t?
The fight is a blur, and not one of us even comes close to severing a Hydra neck. I dart away from sharp teeth and whipping heads, getting soaked by the waves the Hydra’s ferocious gyrating generates. Otherwise, I avoid Griffin. He’s spitting mad and won’t stop yelling at me.
Too focused on me, Griffin gets blindsided by a sweeping head. It smashes into his back and propels him into the water. He goes down face-first, and my heart stops dead in my chest. A wave crashes over him, and the strong backward pull drags him into the Hydra’s body.
I bolt forward. This is my fault. If I’d let him be effective in battle instead of worrying about me, he never would have left himself open.
The Hydra snaps and hisses, forcing us to scatter as Griffin staggers to his feet. His wet cloak tangles around him, hampering his movements. Terrified, I hold out my hands and aim my fear at the Hydra.
No lightning. Not even a tingle of power ripples down my arms. Only the pendant around my neck pulses with cold, as if reaching for my magic along with me.
Filling with dread, I watch the man I love dodge wide-open jaws. Hydra mouths smash into the lake, sending plumes of water jetting into the air. Currents churn around him, pushing and pulling. But Griffin’s agility is his own magic. With strength and coiled efficiency, he spins and brings his sword down hard on the closest neck, severing it.
The Hydra screams. All the mouths shriek at once, and the nightmarish sound echoes off the mountains.
The rising triumph in me crashes the instant two new appendages sprout from the severed stump. The fresh necks and heads grow fast. I blink, and they’re the size of me!
“New plan!” I shout. “Donotchop off its heads!”
Griffin struggles through chest-high water, swinging his sword defensively. When a full-sized head dives for him, I throw a knife and bury the blade between its eyes. The head jerks back and then falls, sloshing a wave up the shore that helps propel Griffin out of the water. While he’s scrambling up the soggy shelf, a set of teeth snags the bottom of his cloak, tearing it. A ball of fire erupts in the mouth, and the Hydra howls, plunging its head into the water.
Griffin races to my side. I throw every knife I have, felling heads until I’m out of blades. Flynn and Kato follow my lead and drop all but two of the remaining heads.
“I need more knives!” I cry.
“We’re out!” Kato yells back.
Griffin hands me his. “Only one.” Breathing hard, he slicks his dripping hair back from his face.
I take aim, throw, and hit my target. Only one head left.
Flynn gets ready to throw his ax, but the remaining Hydra head starts ruthlessly biting off its limp counterparts, severing its own necks so that two heads replace every one that was lost. Blood floods the lake. Within seconds, the monster mushrooms into a creature twice as deadly and terrifying as it was before.
“Retreat!” Griffin shouts.
I hesitate. Two severed heads with my knives in them lie just at the water’s edge. We’ll need those blades. I’m sure we will.
Ignoring Griffin’s panicked shout, I race for the weapons, rip one free, whirl around, and then grab the other.
