88. Clash of Stone and Steel
Clash of Stone and Steel
Talyn
Talyn ported as soon as the dagger hit earth, not directly behind Samhail, but just off to his left side.
In all the times she’d seen him fight, she’d never been able to tell if he was weaker with one arm over the other, but porting to his left put her right hand, the one with her dagger, toward his back.
She slashed out with the dagger, but Samhail had moved as soon as the ceremonial dagger hit as well.
He was already swinging around, anticipating her port, and she had to abandon her attack to duck and roll out of the way of the fist and sword hilt that came swinging toward her.
She was on her feet again in a second, and she ported in front of him to thrust the dagger forward, aiming for the middle of his stomach. He swung his arm up between them and knocked her blow out of the way, though. Talyn nearly lost her blade when his arm hit hers, but she managed to hold onto it.
Samhail’s other hand swung down as he tried to hit her with the pommel of his sword, the blade too long to slash her from this angle, but she brought her own shortsword up to deflect the blow.
Her sword scraped along his leather vambrace and shifted his hand just far enough so the pommel came down on her shoulder instead of her head.
Talyn cried out and ported immediately. She reappeared a few feet away and tried to roll her shoulder to ease the throbbing there.
Samhail didn’t give her a second to recover.
He lunged toward her with swords raised, and Talyn ported again, but not far.
She appeared at his side, and his own momentum carried him across the tip of her dagger so the blade slashed a shallow cut along his side.
The cut would have been deeper, but Samhail must’ve tried to change course as soon as he saw her port, so the dagger only grazed him instead of cutting him open.
Talyn heard Cyra’s cry of fear when Samhail looked down at the red staining his shirt, but neither of them looked to the lady. Instead, they both attacked again.
It was all Talyn could do to stay one step ahead of Samhail.
He moved like lightning, his swords flashing like bolts in the bright sunlight as she tried her best to stay inside his reach as much as possible.
She wished there was a cloud cover because she kept having to blink from the flare of steel.
Staying inside his reach kept her safe from his blades, but as she’d feared, Samhail’s heavily muscled arms and large hands kept her from being able to land anything more than minor blows.
Her entire body would be black and blue from the fists and elbows she’d taken from him.
She had to do something soon, or she’d be in too much pain to move.
So far she’d been lucky enough that most of Samhail’s blows had been glancing, but her luck ran out on his next swing.
She ported to his side and was about to stab her dagger at him when Samhail swiveled, and one of his swords caught the sun just right so it flared in her eyes.
She squeezed them shut on instinct, but when she opened them again, the first and only thing she saw was the back of Samhail’s fist flying toward her head.
Stars erupted in Talyn’s vision as pain spiked through her temple, and everything went black for a moment. She heard someone shout her name, possibly Samhail, but she was too stunned to tell.
When she opened her eyes, she was on the ground and seeing double. She blinked to clear her vision and was relieved when she saw only one of everything again.
A large shape loomed a few feet away, and she lifted her head to see Samhail standing there, swords hanging at his sides as though he meant to drop down next to her and be sure she was alright.
He took a step toward her, then stopped and glanced to his side where the twins stood watching him closely.
He seemed to realize at the same moment Talyn did that he couldn’t check on her, couldn’t show her mercy, and he raised his swords to attack again as he lunged toward her while she struggled to her feet.
Talyn managed to get herself into a crouch before she ported behind him.
She shoved her shoulder into the back of his knee, and he swore as he fell backward.
She ported out from under him, and by the time his body hit the ground, she’d reappeared on top of him, straddling his torso.
Her dagger plunged toward his chest, but Samhail dropped his swords and grabbed her hands.
He twisted one hand so she cried out in pain and dropped her shortsword.
His other hand ripped the dagger from her and tossed it away.
Talyn shrieked in surprise as he flipped them both so he was on top of her as he pinned her hands to the ground.
“I need to stop letting you knock my knees out from under me,” he said in annoyance.
“Do you give up yet?” Talyn asked as he held her down.
Samhail arched an eyebrow then smiled. “You should know by now I’ll never give up where you’re concerned.”
Talyn ignored the shiver of pleasure that shot through her at his words and ported instead.
She appeared on his back and wrapped an arm around his neck.
As she did, she shifted into a man, the largest man she could get her powers to stretch her body into, and she wrapped her legs around his waist to keep him from pulling her off as she squeezed her arm against his throat.
She yelled as he grabbed her shirt and dragged her over his shoulder anyway so she landed hard on her back and the breath punched out of her.
Her eyes widened as his fist came flying toward her face, and she shifted into a doe-eyed girl who let out a frightened scream.
“Fuck!” Samhail swore as he diverted his fist just in time to smash it into the ground instead.
Talyn ported over to where he’d thrown her dagger and picked it up, then shifted back into her own form.
“That was playing dirty,” Samhail said as he picked himself up.
They were both breathing heavily now.
“No, playing dirty would have been turning into Cyra,” she retorted, and he growled.
Samhail was weaponless, and Talyn had the impulse to port back to him, but she needed half a second to rest. She couldn’t do this for much longer. She could already feel her porting power start to wane.
“Aren’t you going to pick up your swords?” she asked him, nodding to the two blades still on the ground.
A smile curled his lips.
“No, because I know what you’re trying to do,” he said. “It was a solid plan, but it’s time to end this.”
Samhail held his hand out, and the ceremonial dagger Surgeon had thrown to the ground flew into it.
Talyn swallowed. Fuck. There went her advantage.
Her eyes widened a second later when he held his hand out toward her, and Talyn tried to throw herself out of the way of the forcefield that erupted from his palm. It was too big, and she cried out as she was thrown back hard on the ground, her chest vibrating from the blow.
Talyn coughed and tried to inhale as she picked herself up on her elbows.
Fear spiked her adrenaline as Samhail strode toward her, and she tried to rise, but another forcefield slammed into her, and she went rolling back on the ground.
Thankfully she’d at least managed to hold onto her dagger.
She needed to end this. Between her exhaustion, her injuries, and her waning power, she was quickly losing any advantage she’d had.
Talyn rallied her power and ported right in front of Samhail. He’d started to turn, anticipating she’d appear behind him, but he corrected himself just in time. Talyn barely dodged his swinging arm as it grazed her temple, and she stumbled a little before porting.
She ported again and again as she had that time in the woods, hoping to make him dizzy or at least keep him off-balance, but he kept up with her just enough to deflect any attacks she made.
Finally, she ported once more but reappeared back in the same space she’d left, thrusting her dagger out blindly, hoping to hit something.
Samhail had started to move and was bringing his dagger around as well, but he stopped with a grunt as they found themselves face to face.
Talyn’s dagger met with the resistance of flesh even as pain stabbed through her own stomach.
Time ground to a halt as their eyes met. Samhail’s eyes went wide with fear and pain, and nausea churned in Talyn’s gut as all of her limbs went numb. She could only see the hilt of her dagger because the blade was now stuck fully inside Samhail’s chest.
Panic made her lightheaded. Gods above, had she hit his heart, or was she just wide of it? She sent a desperate prayer up to the Protector that she was wide.
Talyn tried to pull the blade from Samhail’s chest so Cyra could heal him, but her fingers had gone slack, and she couldn’t seem to grip it. Her hand loosened on the handle and dropped to her side.
And then she was falling.
Both Cyra and Bressen screamed as Talyn hit the ground.
She heard the thud next to her as Samhail fell a second after she did, and she tried to turn toward him, but pain shot through her midsection.
That’s when she saw the handle of the ceremonial dagger sticking out of her own stomach, its jewels glittering in the sun.
It was several seconds before her pain-addled brain realized they’d stabbed each other at the same time.
Talyn reached a shaking hand toward the blade stuck just above her navel. Her hand was covered in blood, and she felt something wet and warm dribble over her lips as she coughed.
She turned her head and found Samhail lying on the ground close to her. Cyra was already kneeling next to him, terror and panic in the lady’s eyes, her voice frantic. Behind her, Lord Bressen’s face was ashen as he yelled to Samhail.
Talyn saw Cyra reach for the dagger in Samhail’s chest to pull it out, but he caught her wrist.
“Heal Talyn first,” he rasped.
“I’ll get to her,” Cyra said, her voice laced with terror. “Your wound is worse.”