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This time, it’s a mix of water and air, both as cold as I can make them.
The golems shatter with high-pitched screams. Bits fly in every direction, including toward Hallr, who raises his arms to protect himself.
“Behind you!”
Leesa’s warning is almost too late as the ground crumbles under my feet.
Forming steps conjured from ice, I climb up and out of the way while hunkering low to avoid the flock of ravens trying to find a way to get down to us.
A pack of Terro’s pangolins tunnels out of the ground. Muck and dirt stick to their hairy sides, their long, sharp claws still covered in grass and mud from their digging.
I spin, but I’m a heartbeat too slow.
Two pangolins reach out for me, and claws the length of my forearm close in.
Pangolin heads, necks, and backs are shielded by scaled skin so thick and durable, it would make for great armor. Though hunting them is useless. They’re nearly impervious to heat, cold, and physical attacks.
A sudden gust of wind howls.
The startled pangolins curl into tight balls.
The wind forces them out of the hole like corks from shaken beer barrels. Spinning, they fly into the air, through Lark’s dome, and into the murder of crows before disappearing from sight.
“Thanks.” I salute Rafe before shifting to confront the next threat.
“Left!” Lark slashes an arm my way, and I duck without hesitation.
A stream of her fire roars over my head, so close it singes my hair. A winged horror diving toward us is engulfed in flames, its feathered body, too many wings, and too few limbs consumed in an instant.
The freaky fuck plummets, a wailing comet of burning flesh that smashes into the arena floor and lies twitching.
“They’re starting to work together.” Leesa kicks a tiny creature, the remains of a sylph, from the back of the winged creature. “This thing guarded against the fire so the others could enter through the dome.”
Her words are barely out of her mouth before a portal opens between us.
Without thinking, I cover the portal in ice as Leesa and I jump clear of it.
Is this what being a god feels like?
The thought is both exhilarating and terrifying.
And so wrong.
A creature slips through the ice and past my guard. The thing has too many mouths, each lined with grinding, gnashing teeth that move independently. It’s on me before I can react, one of its mouths latching onto my shoulder. Razor-sharp teeth sink through cloth and armor to find the flesh beneath.
Pain explodes through me, white-hot and all-consuming.
My concentration shatters.
The water I was manipulating crashes to the ground in a useless splash, and a strangled cry rips from my throat. Through the haze of agony, I feel a cool, familiar presence brushing against my consciousness.
Lark.
Her mind touches mine through our merged magic. “Sterling! Are you all right?”
“I’ll be fine. I swear. But you’d better take control of the merge.”
Black ichor sprays across my face as the creature explodes, the substance burning where it touches my skin.
