Page 82 of House of the Iron Reaper

Ronan’s words come back to me.

I tap into myself. Every inch of my body, down to the bones, the sinew, the muscles, everything. I feel my soul in the palm of my hands, like… like molten glass I need to mould.

In. Out. In. Out.

I feel the fractured bone in my arm and the pain is clear but slides around me like river water. Dragon glass is strong as steel but before then, in the depths of fire, it flows like syrup into any shape needed. I smooth faeth across the fracture like a balm and think of the shape I need, I think of a healed bone.

The fracture snaps back together.

I breathe out and flex my arm—painless, healed, and whole.

A smile crawls across my face. Now the fight can really begin.

Chapter 42

Novalie

There is a weakness in every creature—my only task is to find it and exploit it.

The crab lurches side to side, screeching in frustration. I look up at its stomach but there’s no soft underside, only more impenetrable crystal. It must have a weak spot somewhere, but I won’t be able to see it from here.

The doomkin comes to a halt, eerily still.

Oh, fuck.

I dive out of the way a second before it slams its body down with a boom that rattles my teeth. It turns, looking for me and I sprint to the side, keeping out of its eyeline.

Before it can circle around, I jump and grab onto the top of its back leg. Swinging onto its back, it screeches and tries to reach me with its claw but cannot quite reach. I force my fingers at the joint between its body and its leg, trying to find a weak spot there.

I only find hard crystal, welding the joint together like steel. I gape at it. It should not even be able to move like this. I slam a fist against its leg. Fucking doomkin.

The crab shrieks and turns suddenly.

“Shit!”

I go careening across its back. I flail my arms, trying to grab onto something, and my fingers find a gap. The crab jerks again but I hold on with all the finger strength I have.

A seam runs up the middle of its back—just enough for me to hold on but with no deeper gap in its shell. But no matter. Because I find something better.

Near its stalk eyes and under the seam sits a heart, small and black as coal. My eyes widen. The Saints must know about my plan for they have served up exactly what I need.

If I can just get to it.

The crab tries again to throw me off its back. My fingers lose their grip on the smooth crystal seam and I tumble away, cursing. I land on the ground hard. The doomkin turns, looming over me. It screams.

Right. Time for a calculated risk.

I scramble back onto my feet. As the claw comes slicing through the air, I jump onto it. I skid across the smooth crystal and nearly fall but manage to grab onto the joint of its arm. The crab holds its claw up, looking at me. I dangle precariously over it. It screeches and tries to shake me off—it nearly succeeds but I squeeze my arms like a vice grip around it.

And then its other claw comes looming into view. It’s going to snap me in fucking half.

Teeth gritted, I haul myself up, scrambling for purchase. I swing my legs up just before it can slice through me and start running down its arm. It tries to snap at me again and I leap out of the way, feeling the gust of air pass over me from its strike.

I land on its back. I grab one of the stalks its eyes sit upon.

My plan is not based in very much logic. The thought only occurred to me when I found the joint between its leg and its body, welded together. Its crystal shell is unbreakable.

Like me.