I danced him backward, keeping him off balance as much as possible. Every time Aurora and Twilight clashed, there was a small spark like a flint strike.
I gripped Aurora in both hands for a moment of extra power and slashed in a tight C. I twisted at the waist, ignoring the screaming pain in my lower back and throwing all my weight and momentum into the attack. The blade sliced at the side of his knee, hitting edge-on, producing a sharp snap that was like a firecracker report.
He bellowed as his knee buckled. I’d fractured his armor.
I kept up my attack. I knew the pain he was in, and I was sure as hell going to use it.
He was partially hunched over, his non-dominant hand bracing the back of his injured knee while he defended my attack using Twilight in his other hand. He managed to swipe at my torso, gouging a line across my battle shirt and scraping a groove in my rock armor. It hurt but didn’t draw blood.
His knee, meanwhile, was dripping crimson.
I increased the force and speed of my effort, trying to land a hit on his sword arm. If I could force him to switch to his non-dominant hand, I’d have a huge advantage.
Aurora and Twilight clashed together once, twice, sending out small bolts of lightning that left ozone hanging in the air. On my third try, I managed to hit the inside of Darion’s wrist. It wasn’t hard enough to crack his armor, but his grip reflexively loosened. Twilight flew to the side and landed with a dull clang on the dirt.
Darion gave a little chuckle as he crossed his arms low over his torso, gripped the short swords at either hip, and drew them. He was clearly delighted to be able to switch to the weapons he was comfortable with. That didn’t bode well for me.
“Shit,” I muttered under my breath.
Then he flew at me. His injured leg dragged behind, but his blades blurred as he worked both of them in synchronous movements. One of them jarred against my dominant shoulder, not cracking the armor, but ringing my entire body like a bell. My brain rattled, and my vision blurred.
Blinking to clear my eyes and dancing like a madwoman, I forced more speed into my movements. He was working me backward, and landing about every third hit attempt. His short swords wouldn’t break my armor, but a slice to the neck or a hard enough blow to my head and I’d be finished.
Or he could just wear me down with force, as he seemed to be trying to do.
I sank even deeper into the movements, anticipating his swings and drives. After a couple minutes of straight fighting—an eternity at that level of exertion—we’d reached a sort of impasse, neither of us gaining any real ground and both of us breathing hard.
Darion swung out and caught me on the arm again and then backed off. His chest was heaving, and I was sucking wind, too. But the pause gave me a chance to see that the dirt was stained maroon where he’d been moving. He was bleeding very badly from his knee. And then it dawned on me: the Duergar didn’t have a mineral sauna. It and the special salts were closely-held New Gargoyle secrets. The Duergar couldn’t know as much about strengthening and healing stone armor as we did.
Darion’s rock armor was weaker than mine, and I still held a weapon that could destroy his natural shield, if only I could summon the strength to do it.
My arms ached from deflecting blows, my body throbbed from the hits, and I was still out of breath, but I flew at him. His swords whirled into action again. I aimed for his armor, protecting myself only when he went for my head. He landed bone-jarring blows all over my body, but I shut out the pain. I lunged in again and again, taking hits but keeping my focus on trying to get past his defenses.
Finally, he made a mistake, leaving one side open. I swung Aurora and landed an armor-cracking blow on his thigh. He let out a low, strangled noise, his back arching in pain.
I caught him again on the elbow, and he bellowed louder. He brought his blades up again and sent them flying at me, but the one in the hand of the injured arm moved sloppily.
Still, bleeding from three different cracks didn’t weaken his attack much. He came at me with fury and pain flashing in his eyes. After landing a couple of hard hits to my torso and leg, he tossed one short sword away and gripped the other in both hands. Then he began hammering at me with renewed resolve.
One blow flicked off my shoulder and caught my helmet over my ear. Pain blossomed bright and harsh. Sound faded on that side of my head. Spots swirled in my eyes.
The hit just seemed to spur him on. Growling with rage, he swung ferociously. I was quicker, but his brute strength drove me back, step by step.
I managed to smack his forearm with Aurora, but it was with the flat of the blade.
Then he lunged and shoved his foot into my diaphragm. I flew backward, landing hard on my ass and skidding a few feet. Unable to tighten up to stop my momentum, the back of my head smacked the dirt. When my vison went gray, only his enraged howl warned me to roll out of the way.
My sight returned just as he dove at me again. I curled to one side, barely avoiding the blow aimed at my head. Again, I rolled, but he was right on top of me. From my back, I wielded Aurora, barely fending off his punishing blows. He wasn’t saving any strength. He was trying to end it, but not because he was overpowering me. His wounds were gushing blood, and he was getting weaker.
My mind sharpened, sensing his fading energy. I also realized Titania wasn’t going to stop the battle.
He tried to fall onto me, presumably to hold me down so he could slit my throat. I scuttled backward, but not quite swiftly enough. He landed on one of my ankles, pinning it under his shin. I struggled, fending off his strikes with one hand while I tried to pull myself out from under his weight.
He straightened, wound up like a batter at the plate, and swung at my sword arm. As he did it, I saw the rage boiling in his eyes. He was hurting, he was furious, and I was suddenly positive that he didn’t know how to channel pain the way I did. With his size and strength and his position in the Duergar military, he’d probably never had to.
He’d never been an underdog.
I raised my arm to protect my head. The crack of his blade against my forearm nearly made me pass out. I dropped Aurora as the nerves of my arm spasmed and screamed agony.
I couldn’t look away to find my lost weapon, and I doubted I could command my spasming right hand to pick it up anyway. I reached back with my left hand and drew Mort. Magic flooded into my spellblade, lighting it in purple flames. I jabbed at Darion’s face, and he lurched to one side to avoid the magic as it licked out through the air at him, forming tiny blades that would slice his skin like razors.