“You treacherous bitch!” Death screeched as the air around her crackled with power. “Kill them!” she bellowed, her voice shaking the stones of the hall. The drifting spirits swarmed at her command as demons began to pour through the doors.
“So, perhaps you should fight together rather than against each other. Demons would be good targets,” Jala suggested calmly to the stunned duelists behind her. Pulling on her power once more she hastily raised shields around herself and sent a force bolt toward Death. She meant it as more of a delay than an actual attack and was unsurprised when the Divine brushed it off as if swatting a fly.
“If that is the best you have, you are already dead, child,” Death hissed as she began to advance, her hands moving in intricate patterns as she began her own spell.
“I wouldn’t if I were you, Hemlock. This is their dance.” Vaze’s voice rang clearly from above and Jala glanced up just long enough to spot the Fionaveir balanced above the door, tendrils of shadow held at the ready.
“You heard the lady earlier, I’m sure. I’m no warrior. I have no intention of fighting,” Hemlock replied, sounding surprisingly amused, though she couldn’t tell exactly where the Assassin was.
Jala’s shields rocked as Death’s spell slammed into her. The Divine was within five feet now and closing the distance quickly. Activating the focus stones in her hands once more, Jala sent a wave of wind out from her in all directions pushing the spirits back. She needed room and there wasn’t much to be had here. Bile rose in her throat as the traces of Death’s spell washed over her. There was no longer any threat to the magic but the foulness of it sickened her. Neph had shown her necromancy once and it had made her skin crawl, despite the minor spell he had used. Death’s spell had certainly not been minor and had no doubt been intended to be quite lethal.
Shadow tendrils rose from the walls to either side of her wrapping two demons tightly in their grasp. The tendrils snapped like a whip and she heard the sounds of shattering bones behind her as the demons were crushed against the stone walls. “C’mon kid, I’m waiting to be impressed,” Vaze called from above.
Jala gave a slight nod and narrowed her focus. Her magic roared in her ears as she launched spell after spell at the Divine, sending Death reeling back from her. She kept the pattern chaotic giving Death no opportunity to guess what would come at her next. Moving forward, Jala continued the assault, her magic gaining momentum until there was no break between blasts. The noise of the swords and fighting behind her faded as she centered her whole mind upon Death and let vent all of her frustrations and anger.
Death staggered back once more, her robe shredding on her frail form but the leathery skin beneath seemed untouched by the magic. Snarling like an animal, the Divine surged forward through the magic and slammed into Jala, knocking the breath from her in a ragged gasp. Clawed fingers dug into her neck, lifting her from her feet. Jala sucked air frantically and tried to keep the rising panic from spoiling her next spell.
“Did you truly believe you had a chance?” Death asked in a furious snarl.
Jala remained silent as she released a blast of pure magic directly into Death’s chest. Her spell had been spoiled and it was the best she could manage in her desperation. The Divine rocked slightly from the impact and tightened her hold on Jala’s throat. Pain flared through Jala in bright lances as Death’s other hand tore into her stomach through the armor. Panic washed over her once more as Jala realized the Divine’s intent. The bitch meant to tear the child from her body.
Summoning all her remaining energy, Jala brought her hand down hard covering Death’s shrouded face and sent the last spell she knew she could manage through the focus stones and into the Divine. Bright white light filled the room as the spell exploded against Death. The Divine dropped her to the floor and staggered back, both hands clutching her head.
Jala sucked in air in violent gulps and stared down at her ruined hand in growing shock. The focus stones had exploded and what remained of her right hand looked more like raw meat than her flesh. Letting out ragged breaths, Jala twisted the tattered folds of her old grey cloak around her hand and staggered to her feet. Her mind reeled with the agony of her wounds, but she forced herself to scan the room.
Demons swarmed the two Hai’dia who fought back to back, their glass swords flashing with incredible speed as they forced Death’s minions back from them. She could see Valor trying to glance back toward her, his expression frantic. The explosion of the spell must have left him thinking her dead. She wanted to reassure him but when she tried to speak nothing but a sob came from her mouth.
The throbbing in her hand and side increased and she staggered to lean heavily against the wall. Her eyes searched the room frantically for Vaze and spotted the Fionaveir fighting several demons that looked quite intent on getting through the door he blocked.