EXCERPT:
Sapphira
I was going to die.
I saw the dagger coming too late to get out of the way, watched it spiraling through the air towards me with astonishing speed.
My eyes were open wide, my mouth was too – like a fish plucked from the sea, suddenly discovering it couldn’t breathe in the open air. It was apparent that shock was not a good look for me; the breath in my chest caught as my muscles tensed, waiting for the impact. Light reflected off the blade, shooting sunbursts through the room on each spin, like a deadly disco ball.
She had actually thrown it. Damn that heartless monster!
The monster in question stood a few short feet from me, grinning wickedly through blood-red lips, another dagger at the ready. Her brown eyes were bright, full of morbid anticipation as they followed the path of the weapon. Long dark hair was tied back in an unyielding braid that ran to her hips, beaded with sweat and blood. Red leather armor protected the majority of her body, a striking contrast to her flawless dark skin.
My shields locked into place a millisecond before the dagger could embed itself in my throat. The blade disintegrated on impact with the solid mass of jade magic, becoming nothing more than dust that rained down at my feet. I conjured knives of my own, willing the sharp glinting steel and silver into existence, small double-edged and deadly. I barely felt the weight of them in my hands before I tossed them towards her.
They didn’t move as fast as hers had, and she quickly maneuvered out of their way, taking cover behind a crumbling stone wall in the center of the room. No surprises there; I was nowhere near as skilled or experienced as she was. Still, I hoped for some luck – a miracle that gave me the upper hand I needed. I kept the barrage of crafted magic coming, even as I stepped toward her, hoping that the sheer number of deadly blades would beat the grinning assassin.
“Is that the best you’ve got?” She called out, mocking laughter in her voice. I could no longer see her, successfully hidden behind the wall, but I could sense her power – the magic like a beacon in the dark. It was mischievous and sinister, a wicked mix of death magic and sharp, experienced intelligence.
I called up more of my own power, jade smoke forming in the air around me, grinning as it coalesced and solidified into an almost exact replica of myself – a trick that I had only learned recently.
Shoulder-length golden blonde hair tied back in a messy bun, bright green eyes, and a curvy figure dressed in black leather armor, both hands gripping blades– the entire image glowing faintly with dancing green light, like an otherworldly aurora.
I sent my magic clone towards the wall and the assassin behind it, strengthening the mirage until the aura light vanished within it. Now it looked exactly like me – no one would be able to tell the difference, not even the woman I had unleashed it upon.
Her daggers flew towards the clone as it rounded the corner, the assassin huffing a victorious laugh as they embedded themselves into the armor protecting the chest. The clone fell backward, landing heavily on the floor, unmoving. The killer followed, standing over it, hands empty now. She was out of weapons at last, just as I had hoped she would be.
I made my move, grounding my feet and lashing out with my power, sending wave after wave of despair into her body – the emotion appearing as a purple so dark it was almost black. It pushed its way in, her body sagging until she could no longer stand. As she fell to her knees beside the clone, I willed the despair to transform, becoming barbed vines that wrapped themselves around her, holding her tight.
I sauntered over, a sword forming in my hand, shields coming down. The woman tilted her head so that she could watch my approach, eyes wary. I held the sword out, the tip of the blade under her chin.
“You’re finished, Assassin Barbie,” I said breathlessly, a smile playing at the corner of my lips. “This is done. Say it.”
Her eyes narrowed, lip pulled back in a silent snarl. I pushed the sword harder, a line of crimson running down her throat, the vines squeezing tighter. “Say it.”
“We’re done.” The woman hissed, a little breathless now too. “Get this thing off me.”
I beamed in triumph, watching her fall to the floor as my magic came back to me, the vines and sword vanishing as quickly as they had appeared. I should have expected it – should have seen her plan – should have seen her reaching for the dagger left behind when the clone vanished. But I was too caught up in my imagined victory, too busy gloating. So fast I barely saw her move; the assassin had me on the floor, her body on top of mine, knees pinning down my arms, and the blade she’d retrieved from the floor at my throat.
“Never trust an enemy.” She hissed in my face, eyes flashing with bloodlust. “They lie.”
Shit. My eyes followed the movement of the blade as it was raised from my throat and into the air, the woman’s grip firm on the handle as she brought it back down again, aiming for my heart. My magic pulsed out, sending a shockwave through the room. The assassin was lifted off me, flung backward, and thrown into the wall. She lay there, stunned, eyes unfocused.
I got to my feet slowly, my body heavy. I made sure to keep my eyes on my assailant, warily waiting for her next attack. She crawled toward her daggers, shaking her head to clear it, her movements sluggish. Blood dripped from a gash in her forehead, creating a red drip trail on the floor as she moved.
I couldn’t let her reach them. Calling up my magic again, I was distressed to feel it beginning to tire – exertion still an issue – even after months of building my strength and stamina. I had to end this fight soon, or I would be helpless. I willed the power within me to hold out a little longer, to keep from vanishing and leaving me defenseless.
I conjured a bow – feeling smoke swirling through my fingers, using the image in my mind to create it, only for the weapon to solidify in my hand. Arrows were next, sharp and gleaming tips of metal that connected with dark wooden shafts. Black feathers on the ends shimmered green as they moved. They were as beautiful as they were deadly. I nocked one, drawing back the bowstring, and let loose, following the arrow’s progression as best I could as it sped towards the assassin.
She was on her feet now, daggers in hand, eyes narrowed as she, too, took in the flight of the arrow. I readied another one, hands shaking and eyes wide, as the woman simply knocked the bolt out of the air with the tip of her dagger. What the actual hell?
She smirked and started towards me, her steps confident and unhurried. Another arrow shot toward her. Again, an effortless evade. Another and another, over and over, until there were none left. Assassin Barbie was too close for me to conjure up anymore anyway, barely out of arms reach. I let go of the bow; it vanished before it hit the ground, the magic returning to me slower than it had earlier.
A dagger bounced off my hurriedly made shield, the magic too weak now to disintegrate it. The assassin hissed anyway, vibrations from the contact running up her arm as her hand shot back from the unsuccessful attack.
She eyed my defenses critically, a leer creeping over her lips as she circled me. I turned as she moved, keeping her from my back and making my own observations. She was limping slightly, her right leg injured. “You’re weakened,” she said, brown eyes gleaming. “You'll be defenseless in minutes, and then I can kill you. All I have to do is wait it out."
I fought the urge to roll my eyes, even as my heart pounded in my chest so hard that I was sure she could hear it. I wasn't out of the fight yet, I reminded myself, but I needed time. I needed a distraction to keep her busy while my energy was replenished.
"Tick." My shield faltered as she spoke, and the evil grin widened on my attacker's face. "Tock."
I took a grounding breath, digging deep within myself. I could do this.
"Tick."
Time seemed to slow as I pulled up the last of my magic, wrapping it around myself like a blanket. I pulled what I could from the room around us, too, the shadows dancing like a black flame. Then, what little light there was, was extinguished, throwing the world into suffocating darkness.
"Tock."
I dropped my faltering shield, spinning through the gloom in silence, spinning out of reach of the daggers that arched through the air towards my face.
The shadows enveloped my attacker, growing heavy – heavier with each passing second. Each breath she took thinner than the last, the shadows constricting against her on every breath out. I wasn't going to be caught out again – I couldn't be – there was nothing left for me to use. I couldn't declare victory until it was utterly irrefutable. This woman had to bleed all over the floor, and it had to be now. She was still trying to fight; I could hear her struggling against her bonds, daggers remaining in her hands.
As she fought for air, small gasps permeated the silence, the only way that I could pinpoint her location. The shadows tightened again, and those daggers dropped to the floor as her arms were pinned. I dove for them, sliding the short distance along the floor on my knees, scooping one of the blades up with my left hand, slashing out into the shadows. The knife stuck into something substantial, and my firm grip on the handle, mixed with the speed of my movements, spun me around.
I let go, using the momentum to thrust me to my feet on the opposite side of the woman from where I had started. I heard the other dagger clatter across the floor, having kicked it away from her in my travels. It was in the darkness to my right, close but not close enough. The woman wrapped in shadows screamed, the sound full of pain and fury, dampened only by her lack of full breath.
"Bitch!" She howled. "You fucking piece of shit!"
I searched for the final weapon, falling back to my knees and using my hands to feel around in the dark. My magic sputtered out entirely, the shadows and light returning to their original forms and places.
As the light returned to the room, I spotted the dagger, inches from my splayed hands. I grabbed it, spinning to face the screaming woman. She was unrestricted now and so full of fury.
The woman was free. I had her dagger. And then… I didn't.
It left my hand, flying end over end towards her, moving so quickly that she hardly even noticed it – too intent on pulling the other one from her thigh, hissing and throwing curses at me. It hit her in the chest, dead center. The loud thump as it entered the leather armor amplified in the silence that followed it.
We both froze, looking at it in disbelief. The quiet stretched out as I stared, my mind struggling to comprehend what I was seeing.
"You're dead, Valdis." A laugh bubbled up from my chest and escaped my lips as I spoke. The shock and exhaustion were making me giddy.
"Well, fuck me, Sapphira." She huffed incredulously, eyes alight. "What an epic throw. Who knew you had that in you?"
I giggled again, all of my muscles jumping while my head spun. "I hate to admit that it was a fluke. I doubt I could do it again."
"Yes, well. Don't try and cut my leg off again, either. That fucking hurt."
Slow clapping interrupted us from nearby, a whisper of mocking laughter. We both turned to see a monster standing in the doorway. Black hair matched her eyes, brown leathery, semi-translucent skin, and long claw-like nails on skinny fingers. Murky fog billowed around her skeletal feet—a creature of darkness – of nightmares and fear.
"And so now our savior can fight," the Night Hag stated impassively, black eyes burrowing into my soul. "At last."
"I told you she could learn, Mora," Valdis said, grunting as she yanked the daggers from her body, watching her own blood drip onto the floor. "Just like I did."
I swayed where I stood, the room spinning as they spoke. Now that the fight was over, the adrenaline left me, nothing but fatigue running through my body. My mind struggled to follow the sudden shift – from battle mode back to everything is okay, it was only training.
"Except you practiced on your creatures," Mora hissed, turning her deep gaze on her. "Not on the King's Second."
"All is well, I didn't die, and Sapphira learned a few new tricks. Our King will be pleased."
The Night Hag scoffed, pointing a devilishly sharp nail at her. "Your arrogance will be the death of you, Necromancer."
"Yes, but not today." Valdis shrugged, smiling at Mora sweetly and moving to stand beside me. "It seems that you will be stuck with me for a while yet."
I wasn't sure how Valdis was still standing; her blood was running down her leg from the wound I had inflicted – the cuts on her head and throat too. Yet, she stood firm, as though we hadn't just tried to kill each other – as though it had been nothing at all.
About
B.L.:
B.L. Callaghan is an
Australian Foster Carer and Early years Educator with over a decade of industry
experience.
She runs the Facebook
page “More Than A Foster Carer”, where she shares her experience working
with the foster system.
B.L. lives in rural
New South Wales with her husband, a changing number of children, a dog and some
chickens.
As a self proclaimed
creative soul, she has had a passion for writing fiction from an early age.
When not wrangling chickens, children, or dogs, B.L. loves tagging along on
epic quests, and being whisked off on magical adventures.
B.L. Callaghan writes
children’s books, as well as YA and NA titles.
Some of her favorite authors
include L.K Hamilton, S.J Maas, G.R.R Martin, Lynette Noni, Isobelle Carmody,
J.K Rowling, and J.R.R Tolkien.
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