I darted to the side. The jelmadag crash-landed, biting at the now-empty space I’d been standing in.
Ryder rushed over and tore the singed fabric off my calf. On the ground, it bubbled and scorched to a crisp. My skin screamed pink where the demon’s fire had gotten me, but otherwise there were no blisters, no burns to my leg.
What’s this now? Neck swaying like a serpent, the beast slowly pitched his head up.
I—I gulped. I don’t know.
Do you know what hellfire does to those that come in contact with it? His onyx mane rippled with the words. One lick of it should melt the skin off your bones.
Faint tendrils of smoke rose from the charred hole in my pants. My leg tingled, but it was true—there wasn’t even a mark, as if it hadn’t made contact with my flesh, but a body of... Water.
You should be a pile of ash right now. And yet you stand before me, whole.
Ryder wrapped his hand around mine, giving it a tug. “Let’s move.”
Planting my feet, I sank my heels into the ground.
“C’mon!” His head swiveled towards the jelmadag and back to me frantically. “We can’t just stand here!”
I didn’t go. Instead, I turned towards the demon, eyes burning hot, tears collecting on the lash line—probably from the steam seeping out of his pores.
“River.” For the first time in my life, I heard Ryder gasp. “Your eyes…”
Is this a trick of the old gods? the demon demanded.
What? I thought. Bringing my blade parallel to my face, I peered at my reflection. Blue flames danced around my pupils, the irises transformed into heavenly fire, just like the angels etched into the stained-glass window in my dad’s office.
My Source raged inside me, stronger than an ocean storm. It rushed over my skin, a cool and velvety current of power, like an invisible shield.
Like it was protecting me.
After all, water repelled fire.
“We’ll be fine, Ryder.” I brought the dagger to my side. Then with a confident smile, I said, “I’m the Angel of Water.”
Chapter 35
Every single one of the jelmadag’s eyes blinked, narrowing on me. He tilted his head, watching me closely, like I was no longer prey but a worthy opponent. An equal.
The crowd was still going strong, pumping their arms, hanging over the railings.
A steady stream of people filled the aisles, flocking to the lower levels. Rowdy elves, or maybe patrolling Eyes. Ryder’s yells were muffled by the beast’s steam, which was now enveloping me in a hazy cloud.
“River!” Louder, more frantic.
I turned towards Ryder’s voice, waving my hand to see through the thick, hot vapor. A shadow floated into the bowl of the arena. Tricks of the light, of the flickering hellish flames.
A wisp of silver parted the steam, right past my nose. With a gasp I stumbled back, and an agonizing roar tore through the dome.
My spine stiffened. As the haze dispersed, I dared a step closer to the jelmadag—who lay in the dirt in a snarling heap of starless twilight. Pure, unbridled fury stared back at me. A sword pierced his neck.
“Who did this?” I asked out loud.
I whirled to find Ryder standing a few paces behind me. He wasn’t alone.
Flóki left his side, stalking towards the injured beast—towards me. So that’s who’d snuck their way into the ring.
Ryder grabbed the elf’s arm, yanking him back. “C’mon, man.”
