In a place like Aimaxion, where everyone is fighting for their own survival, why would these fighters follow the commands of another.
Unless…
They must have arrangements: who they fight against, who they don’t. They’re gaming the system in a way.
A hammer nearly chops off my shoulder. A knife skids past my stomach, scratching me. Someone catches my ankle and nearly drags me down before I wrench it free.
Moe is not idle behind me. She hurls chunks of broken stone whenever someone gets too close, forcing them off balance long enough for me to finish them. Twice she shouts warnings that save me from attacks I never see coming.
Still, it is not enough. These lesser fighters keep coming in seemingly never-ending numbers.
The Tempest domain remains untouched at the back, watching with amusement as I struggle against his waves of minions.
Sometimes, he intervenes just enough to annoy me.
Like now.
A lightning bolt streaks toward me from over the shoulders of the crowd. Luckily, I spot it in time and I throw myself sideways. The blast shatters the stone where I stood and sends debris spraying into the air.
The impact draws my eye upward, to the walls. There’s something there, isn’t it? I squint to make sure.
A long crack runs through the leftmost wall. It’s deep and seemingly old. The entire structure leans subtly inward. That it’s still standing is pure luck.
An idea forms instantly; averydangerous and messy idea that’s likely to get me crushed.
Still, it’s better than dying here and giving that male the satisfaction he so clearly craves.
Moe and I share a look. Understanding passes between us. As always, we don’t need words to communicate. We both see the same opportunity; the same risk. And we both agree to take it, regardless of the outcome.
“Moe,” I say, my eyes on the wall. “When I tell you, run to me.”
She immediately nods. “All right.”
I start retreating left. The hunters take the bait, pressing forward with renewed confidence as though they think I am finally faltering.
The Tempest domain narrows his eyes, sensing something amiss.
Too late.
I seize every shadow in the courtyard at once—the darkness beneath fallen bodies, beneath shattered stone, beneath the hunters themselves. They all surge upward in writhing ribbons.
Everyone gets ready to fight.
But instead of using my shadows to attack, I use them to conceal.
The shadows lay over the males’ faces, across their eyes and turns the entire front line into a stumbling mass of curses and confusion.
At the same time I drive my shoulder into the fractured wall with everything I have left.
Stone slowly shifts before it suddenly collapses.
The side of the courtyard explodes outward in a thunderous avalanche of rubble and dust. Massive chunks of stone crash down between us and the hunters, crushing the nearest few beneath them while the rest stumble backward in chaos.
“Moe, now!”
She runs.
I catch her hand and drag her through the breach just as lightning blasts apart the rubble behind us.
