Lynnette brandished her two-handed blade. Desmond dodged the next slash smoothly and swept at her legs, but she was ready, bounding back a step and slicing his foot off.
The foot was already sizzling, however, as it rolled to a stop in front of Lynnette’s confused gaze. Helen tackled her to the ground, and the explosion rocked the whole chamber.
Helen’s back and legs smoldered, sundered muscle and snapped bone under shredded cloth, but Lynnette was tucked safely beneath her, dazed and intact. “Please stay back, Lynnette,” she said softly.
Desmond pulled her off Lynnette with his one returned arm. “I thought the guards were supposed to protect the Queen, not the other way around.”
A heavy thud made the walls tremble.
“What was that?” said Desmond.
Helen elbowed him in the nose, making him release her, and she hit the ground flat.
Desmond shook his head and scowled, but another thud made him pause. He looked to Ezmortig. One more thud, and the ceiling gave way on top of him.
Through the rubble, a thick marble slab fell toward Desmond. He raised both sleeveless arms and caught it full on, making the floor crack beneath him.
A black figure was crouched atop the slab, grasping its broad edge with both hands and staring down at Desmond through a metal helm.
“You must be that other reaper’s servant.” Desmond grinned up at him, still holding the marble steady. “Nice entrance.”
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Desmond chucked the slab across the room.
Hector bounded off of it, coated one shoe in iron, and punted Desmond into the far wall, stuck waist deep.
‘Kill the reaper now!’ Garovel shouted.
Hector lunged for Ezmortig, swiping at him with iron-tipped fingers, but the reaper sunk through the floor first.
‘Nice try, bastard.’
Hector growled and looked back toward the others.
Lynnette was helping the Queen up, bloodying her uniform in the process. Helen steadied herself and saw Hector there.
A dark serial novel. Set in a modern fantasy world called Eleg. Mature language. Updates every night at midnight PST by ~400 words.