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The rhino thundered past me, and I got a quick peek of its head, the top half of it shielded by a thick bone plate bristling with spikes. The giant horn jutted upward, ready to impale anything in its path.
Armor or no, it still had to turn its head.
I sprinted and chanced a closer look. The rhino’s short neck was protected by segmented bone plates, but they were thinner than the rest. They had to be, or they would be too rigid, limiting the creature’s range of movement. The horn was its greatest weapon. It had to be able to aim it.
The neck. That was the sweet spot.
I had to find a way to pierce those plates and the monster's hide.
Kate
I rolled to my feet. We’d made it halfway across the field. The mages and hunters waited for me 250 yards away.
Crap.
The mage with the headband fringe spun her staff and clawed at the air.
I had to get there before she finished whatever she was doing. The effective spear-throwing range was about seventy to eighty yards or so, and if I ran fast enough, I should be able to dodge them.
I ran.
Behind me a deafening lion’s roar filled the air.
Hi, honey.
One of the hunters jogged back and raised his spear.
No way. I was still over 150 yards out.
He took a running start, his legs pumping, left arm thrust in front of him, and hurled the spear at me. It sliced through the air, whistling like a fucking arrow. I dodged left. The spear sank into the ground four inches away from my right leg.
What the hell were those shoulders made of?
The hunters backed up in unison.
I kept moving. 120 yards. At least twenty seconds across clear ground without cover. Too far for a power word, not enough time for anything complicated. I had to run and avoid being hit.
They had seven spears left. I could dodge seven spears.
The first hunter, the one who’d thrown the spear, reached behind a tree, pulled out a bundle of spears, and thrust them into the ground for easy grabbing.
Shit.
Seven more spears screeched through the air. I zigzagged like a rabbit, guessing the direction on pure instinct. Left, right, right, left… The sixth spear plunged into the ground right in front of me. I paused for half a second, and the seventh spear sliced across my side, grazing me in a scalding burn.
They were already reaching for more spears.
I dragged my left arm across my bleeding side, yanked the canteen of vampire blood off my belt, and poured it over my left arm, right over the blood already on it. The vampire blood sparked with the magic of my blood, coating my skin and clothes. I jerked my arm in front of me and whispered the incantation. Shaping it with my will alone wouldn’t be fast enough. The burn of magic expended too quickly scraped the inside of my chest with hot, serrated teeth.
The tortured whine of the new volley sliced through the air.
The blood armor sleeve snapped into place over my left arm, widening into a round shield three feet across. The first spear hit it and bounced off. The impact reverberated through my whole arm, right into my back and chest. Wow.
I sprinted, the spears hammering at my shield.
Erra would’ve loved this so much. I could almost hear her in my head. You run like a toddler. Slow and clumsy.
The spears rained around me.
A hundred yards. Seventy-five.
The hunters switched their grips and launched another salvo with a weird, underhanded motion. The spears flew almost straight. I thrust my arm with the shield in front of me and kept running.
I was almost to the fringe mage. The hunters backed away, trying to grab more distance. They were almost out of spears.
I unsheathed Sarrat, drew it against my bleeding side, soaking the blade in blood and power, and pushed my magic through it. The crimson liquid hardened into a razor edge. My pulse pounded in my ears.
The mage spun in front of me, her ribbons flying. I caught a glimpse of her eyes under the fringe, cold and dark, and then she stopped and spat fire.
A swirling cone of flames shot at me. I dropped to one knee and thrust the shield in front of me. The fire roared overhead, splitting around me. I held my breath.
She didn’t build it or shape it the way firebugs did. She spat it out.
The air turned to scalding soup and burned my face. A little more. I just had to wait a little longer…
The fire died.
My turn.
I surged up, turning as I rose, and struck. She jabbed her staff at me, but I was faster. The staff slid by me, and I hacked at her right arm. Sarrat’s blood edge cut through muscle and bone with ridiculous ease. Her right arm fell, severed just below the elbow, and the staff fell with it. She reeled back, screaming, and I beheaded her with a single vicious cut.
