It certainly hurts like hell every time she knocks me onto it.
“You rely heavily on your claws,” she says, looming over me for the tenth time as I lie on my back and try to catch my breath. “Which is completely natural when they’re your greatest weapon. But every part of your body can be just as deadly.” She holds her hand out to help me up. “Don’t worry. I’ll show you how.”
By the time dawn glimmers on the horizon and I reach for a blindfold again, I’ve got sore muscles everywhere.
But the night isn’t over.
The keeper returns with the panthers, who mill about on the beach in seeming anticipation, and I can only guess that the keeper has decided to try breaking their curse.
Anarchy stays on the training hall’s porch and Lucian joins her there, while I position myself at the bottom of the steps.
Based on what the keeper told me, I’m certain he won’t try anything too dangerous to start.
Probably.
I reassess my assumption as I take him in. He’s an imposing figure in his brown-eyed, dark-skinned persona, his feet planted in the sand and the look of concentration on his face intense.
He growls at the panthers, “Which of you is brave enough to go first?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Strife lurches forward, hissing and baring his silver teeth in the moonlight.
“Very well, but be warned: This might not work.”
The keeper raises his hands, dark light splashing across his fingers before he draws his arm back and pitches the magic forward.
It arcs in the air, hitting Strife’s shoulder and splattering across his side like liquid, the same way the keeper’s magic hit Anarchy before he broke her curse.
I brace for the ripple of energy and the explosion that will indicate the curse is broken.
Instead, Strife lurches backward with a yelp, throwing himself into the sand, rolling side to side where the magic struck him.
The keeper’s eyes widen and, with another shot of dark magic from the keeper’s hands, Strife stops frantically rolling around and turns on the keeper with a savage hiss.
Now I can see that all of his fur is missing from the patch where the keeper’s magic hit him.
Ouch.
At least it seems that the second blast of magic stopped the pain.
The keeper’s brow is furrowed. He chews his lip before he seems to rally. “Who’s next?”
Rumble and Riot cast glances at each other before Rumble prowls forward.
Meanwhile, the keeper is muttering to himself, “Maybe if I replicate the original sequence with an illusion first…”
Sapphire light shoots from his hand, taking on the appearance of the same illusion magic he used to turn Anarchy into a rabbit before he broke her curse.
The light is so bright, it breaks across the distance, lighting up the space around Rumble before it smacks into his body, which reacts instantly. His tail shortens, his teeth become rectangular, and his ears elongate.
A second later, the keeper sends another splash of dark light across the air, this one dark like ink.
Smoke explodes around Rumble’s body, billowing out across the beach.
I hold my breath, filled with both hope and fear, needing to know that Rumble hasn’t been hurt. Trusting that when the smoke clears, he’ll be his elven self.
The keeper is acting quickly, his hands making a pulling motion in the air. The smoke rushes toward him, seeming to suck into his palms in streams, quickly leaving Rumble fully visible again.
