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As Fenyx moved to unlock my left, I brought the screw into play.
Sliding my left hand swiftly from the loose manacle, I drove the sharp piece of metal into the bastard's wrist, then dove forward and past him as he shouted behind me, staggering and clutching at the wound.
I glanced back. Fenyx was already fumbling at his breastplate, probably searching for the stone that had healed his face so rapidly earlier that evening.
I ran.
Past the table holding my uncle's defiled body.
Past the gruesome containers holding the bodies of dead fae that Fenyx had pillaged.
I ran straight towards the sword, straight towards Excalibur, straight towards my destiny.
My hand gripped the hilt, wrapping around the twisting metal vines. The feel of the metal was cool and reassuring in my grasp, and as my skin met the surface, a golden light began to glow.
I whirled around, holding the sword.
Fenyx was storming towards me. There was still blood dripping from the hole in his wrist, but I could see the skin already beginning to come together.
That fucking breastplate.
Raising his uninjured hand, Fenyx touched the yellow stone on his chest.
Compulsion. Of course the bastard would go for that first.
“Drop the sword,” he snarled, his eyes gleaming.
I waited for my body to do just as he had said.
“I said, drop the sword,” Fenyx snapped again.
Instead, I felt myself gripping Excalibur more tightly. The golden light was dancing now, casting beautiful shadows on the walls of the cursed chamber.
The light from the sword reflected in Fenyx's blue eyes as he glared at me with uncertainty.
“I don't think Excalibur likes you very much, Fenyx,” I said levelly.
And then I lunged, slashing the greatsword across the Lord General’s shoulder. Excalibur’s edge sliced through fabric and flesh. With pleasure, I watched the blood well up and begin to spill from the wound.
I danced backwards, separating myself from the Lord General by keeping a long, narrow, metal table between us.
Fenyx gnashed his teeth and touched the yellow stone on his chest once more. Sweat was beading on his brow.
“It takes something from you, doesn't it?” I was starting to understand. “Each time you use one, you give up something, too.”
I watched the wound in fascination. It was not closing as quickly as the one on his wrist had. Fenyx had already used the yellow stone’s power twice that evening. How many times could he depend on it to help him before it stopped working?
“I give up nothing,” he declared.
With a swift motion, he touched a black stone on his chest.
Instantly, the chamber was plunged into an otherworldly darkness, extinguishing Excalibur's golden glow.
I heard Fenyx laugh in the dark.
“Where are you, Princess?” His voice was closer now.
I lifted Excalibur then brought it down in a sweeping stroke. There was a crashing sound as one of the glass containers near me shattered, its contents spilling out onto the floor below.
