31. Lora #2
Her arm flowed forward in a graceful motion, tugging Erion’s along by the sleeve, as if she was merely clinging to his side and taking cover behind him. Fire erupted at the nearest creature’s feet—guided by Caldera’s subtle manipulation.
While forcing more flare into the blaze, Caldera continued howling. “Oh, mighty Dual Wielder, what a marvelous protector you are!”
Flames crackled up the creature’s legs, spreading like wildfire across pale-gray skin. Her act seemed to be working. People roared around us—not in fear, but in hope.
“The Dual Wielder!”
“He’s come to save us!”
As the two of them took on another approaching monster, I shoved a flood of water down the next one’s throat.
A man burst from a building beside me. “Miri? Miri! Has anyone seen my daughter?”
The familiar voice drew my attention. The museum owner. His eyes snagged on something ahead and a shrill shout tore from his throat. “Miri!”
I followed his gaze between roaring flames and trunk-sized legs. A little girl in a pretty dress stood frozen in the middle of the street, her mouth open in terror.
A monster loomed behind the girl, its massive claws raised high.
Wrenching a wave from the river, I sent it crashing over the girl, freezing it into a protective sphere around her just as those long fingers descended.
Bony claws struck the barrier with a crack.
The ice held, but those claws dug deep. I poured more water over the sphere, filling the cracks with fresh ice, sealing the gaps.
Sweeping my arms sideways, I pulled the bubble toward the river—toward safety—but the creature’s grip held it in place. Ebbs and darkness, I’d accidentally frozen its fingers to the sphere. The massive arm lifted, bringing the bubble along, high into the air.
The museum owner’s shriek of terror rang out behind me. I rushed forward, darting between scattered debris and massive feet that shook the ground with each thunderous step.
Muffled screams echoed from inside the frosty barrier, but the girl wasn’t visible through the clouded ice.
Yanking more water from the river, I sent it cascading up over the creature, freezing the liquid solid. Frost crept across pale skin where my cold magic surged forward.
But the tide-sodden creature leaned forward, and cracks splintered across the frozen restraints. It was too strong. My ice shattered in a cloud of sparkling frost. The creature’s arm swung free, the bubble still clutched in its grip, raised higher than the rooftops.
Drowning stars, freezing it from the outside didn’t work. I had to get it to open its mouth.
My boots pounded against the cobblestones as I rushed forward.
“Hey, you silt-tainted river-rot!” I shouted the words as loud as I could. “Look at me, you salt-cursed filth!”
The massive head swiveled down. Spiraling horns swept through the air as its jaw split wide.
A sense of victory surged through me, and I poured it into my movements, thrusting a torrent of water straight into that gaping maw.
The creature’s throat bulged as liquid poured down, filling its chest. Driving my cold into the water, I froze the creature from the inside.
It swayed, but the bubble was still attached to its hand. My heart slammed against my ribs. I had to get her out before the creature collapsed and smashed the sphere against the ground.
I couldn’t melt frozen water. How was I supposed to free her from the cage I’d created?
Only one solution surfaced in my mind. Desperation clawed through me as I shaped an ice spear and hurled it at my own creation. The spear punched through the bubble, bursting it into glittering fragments. The girl dropped from its midst, her high-pitched scream piercing the air.
Tugging on the river, I sent a wave surging upward beneath the falling girl. She plunged into it, the water catching her like a wet cushion. But she kept dropping too fast through the flowing liquid.
Dashing forward, I sent the water away and caught her in my outstretched arms before she slammed into the ground.
Her weight crashed into me, along with a spray of water in her wake.
As we tumbled to the ground, I squeezed her tight against my chest, breaking her fall with my own body.
A sharp crack of pain shot through my ribs, stealing the air from my lungs.
On my back with the girl on top of me, I blinked up at the sky. The creature swayed toward us. I clenched my teeth, already picturing it crushing us beneath it.
Its body veered just enough to miss us by a few paces, and I let out a shuddering breath. But as it tipped, its clawed hand dragged across the cobblestones, raking toward us.
I threw myself around, tucking the girl against my chest as I scrambled to crawl away. With a desperate heave, I hurled us forward. My knees and palm scraped across the rough stones as I landed, one arm locked tight around the girl.
Sharp pain tore through my calf, and a scream ripped from my throat as a bony claw dug deep into muscle and tendon.
Whimpering, the girl squirmed out from beneath me.
Gasping for air, I rolled onto my back. Darkness crept in at the edges of my vision, pulsing in time with the throbbing agony in my leg.
The creature lay motionless beside us, its massive frame sprawled across the street. Other monsters burned throughout town, flames licking up their hides. Fire had spread to the buildings around them, orange light dancing across shattered walls and splintered beams.
A small hand clasped my arm. The girl gave a gentle tug, trying to help me stand. But I couldn’t move. Everything hurt—my calf, my ribs, my lungs.
People ran in every direction, shouting about evacuation, some clutching a few belongings. But no more creatures loomed at the entrance to town. At least we had a moment to breathe. My eyelids fluttered closed.
The museum owner’s voice cracked through the chaos—broken words dissolving into babbling sobs. The girl’s small voice trembled beside him. A woman spoke, maybe Caldera. No, someone else. Perhaps the child’s mother.
Her voice drifted closer, just beside me. “Relax. I’ll help you. I’m a healer.”
Soothing cold spread through my chest, mending bruised and battered skin. The pain ebbed, and my ragged breaths evened out.
“Lora!” Erion’s voice was sharp with panic. Pounding footsteps approached. “Is she…” He rasped the words.
“She’ll be all right.” The woman’s warm tone washed over me.
I cracked my eyes open.
The museum owner stood at my feet, clutching his daughter. Erion crouched beside me, and the stranger knelt beside my legs, her hands glowing with soft blue light as they traced across my wounds.
“Thank you,” I croaked.