Page 168

Hector moved first, a frontal assault. Desmond dodged the punch and delivered his own to the gut, knocking Hector back a few steps.

Hector kept pressing. He coated both hands in iron and swung. Desmond caught the left hand and ripped it off at the wrist. He slammed Hector into the concrete, making a small crater.

Abruptly, Lynnette was there. But Desmond saw her and smacked the flat side of the blade before it could connect with his neck. Off balance, she struggled to maintain her grip, and this time, Desmond succeeded in sweeping her legs out from under her. She landed on her back, and Desmond left a severed hand in front of her face. For an instant, Lynnette and Hector could both see it darkening.

She didn’t have time to crawl away. She was going to die. Hector knew it. Someone else was about to die in front of him.

The memory of Garovel’s words flashed in his head.

Respond by becoming better.

Hector flexed his one hand. He focused on Lynnette, desperately demanding more from himself, more iron, more concentration, more everything; and for a moment, all the pain in his body wasn’t numb anymore. Agony hit like a tidal wave. But the iron responded.

Powder materialized on her body, gray spots clustering together, and within seconds, the woman was entirely covered.

Desmond’s hand exploded. Lynnette went flying and clattered to the concrete walkway. Hector hit the central fountain, reddening the waters with his blood.

His body in shreds again, he heaved himself out of the pool and clung to the side of the fountain. He saw Lynnette and released the metal. She did not stir.

Desmond and Helen were clashing now. With both arms again and only one hand missing, he was getting the better of her. He smashed her skull open against the ground. Her body went limp.

Desmond turned to Mehlsanz and Garovel.