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38
SILAS
I was sofocused on Imrys's contorted face, I didn't see Anya charging at us until she was right there.
"Stay back!" I shouted, afraid that she might be hurt if I couldn't keep Imrys down.
A second later, I felt the scepter warm in my hands. My eyes met Imrys's as he laughed.
The large orb at the head of the scepter began to glow, just like the training orb, as Imrys called Re'Utu's energy to it. With barely inches between us, a storm began to swirl in the air, dropping us into a misty darkness.
"What's the matter, Silas? You didn't know what you had?"
I adjusted my palms on the rod, grateful for the protection of my scales as the heat rose to a blistering level. I closed my eyes and began my own prayer, trying to channel Re'Utu's wrath away from the scepter and through my body. I could feel the ebb and flow of the energy between us.
Imrys realized what I was doing and tried to rip it away from me, but I held fast.
"I will not let you destroy this place," I snarled, digging my heels in and leaning further into the scepter, gaining precious ground.
If I could get to him, I would crush his esophagus under the rod. I imagined myself grinding the scepter into his throat until his eyes bulged and he went limp. Just the thought of it gave me renewed strength, bringing me back from the brink of exhaustion. I only needed his strength to flag for one second, and I would win.
"And to think, I was going to let you live," Imrys growled back, shoving at me and regaining some breathing room.
"This throne means nothing to me anymore. Not if this is what it has become."
His laughter turned to a roar, and a blast threw me off my feet, slamming me into the wall with such force that my vision went dark. I blinked the fuzziness away.
Imrys remained standing behind the throne, the scepter in one hand. In his other, he clutched Anya's throat. I could see his brutal claws digging into the flesh beneath her jaw, drawing tiny trickles of blood and making her kick and moan with the pain. Her eyes were wild, terrified, and her face had turned bright red as she fought for every shallow breath.
"Let her go."
I dragged myself back to my feet.
"I wouldn't, if I were you," Imrys warned, flexing his fingers to draw another pained gasp from Anya's lips.
Hot rage boiled up inside me.
I stopped moving, desperate to find some way out of this for both of us. "Leave her out of this. Your fight is with me," I said slowly, trying to bring his attention back to me.
"Hardly," he remarked with a bemused smile. "As long as I'm alive, you will never take this throne from me." His eyes narrowed as he looked at Anya and brought his face very close to hers. "But I can take away everything you hold dear. Isn't that right?"
Anya squealed again as he toyed with her for my benefit. I was still trying to figure out what to do when a shriek filled the room, so suddenly that Imrys's focus was broken. His head snapped sideways to look at Tatyanna. She was on her feet and running toward him, throwing herself at him with her arms outstretched.
Before she could get close to him, he swung the scepter sideways and caught her in the side of the head, knocking her to the ground with a dull thud. It was just the distraction I needed though, and I threw my shoulder into him, crushing him between me and the back of the solid throne.
With his armor in place, my attack hardly slowed him down, but it was enough for him to let go of Anya, dropping her to her knees where she wretched and coughed.
I was circling back around, ready to charge again, when I heard a sickening tearing sound followed by a strained cry of surprise from Imrys. As I whirled around, I saw the shock in his eyes.
His hand dropped to his groin, feeling around desperately before bumping up against a large sliver of green glass protruding from inside his thigh. I stared for a second, trying to make sense of what I was seeing, but I didn't understand until he dropped to his knees. His body slumped forward and his head made a sickening sound as it struck the floor. The scepter tinkled lightly and then rolled away, forgotten.
Behind him, Anya's small form still crouched. Cupped in her lap was her bleeding hand, staining her robe an ugly red. She raised her head and met my eyes. In that instant, I could see all the fire and life in her. She was a dangerous, beautiful woman, and she had just saved my life. Again.
I rushed to her, lifting her into my arms and pressing my lips to hers. She pulled away from me and stared into my eyes with relief.
"Silas..."
"Shh. We need to get you bandaged up. Just relax," I said quietly, pressing my lips to her forehead, savoring the warmth of her flesh against mine. "I promise I won't ever leave you again, Anya."
"What about-"
"Don't worry about him," I said hastily before I lost my nerve. "Anya, I love you. And I intend to take you as my wife."
She looked up at me with watery eyes and a half smile, giving me an imperceptible nod. "I love you, too, Silas." And she rested her head back against my chest and fell quiet.
