began to walk toward her. “Or? A command is rendered a plea if the person who makes it lacks the will—or the power—to enforce obedience.”
She gestured. Fire encased her.
She felt the sudden rumble of earth beneath her feet. “No,” she told it. “You are not welcome here yet; he does not have the right to invite you.” The earth stilled. It did not speak again.
The demon’s eyes rounded slightly, and then of all things, he laughed. And oh, the sound of his laughter. It was cold, yes, and cruel—but it was also warm and bright and enticing. Wind came in a sudden gale, and again, she said, “No. Not yet, not now.” It stilled.
“They are yours to deny,” he told her. “But not yours to command.”
“Not yet,” she countered.
He brought his sword down.
* * *
She raised her arms, crossing her wrists over her head; it was almost a cringe. But it was a defiant cringe, and fire pooled like armor—like a sudden dome—above her head. The impact drove her to her knees, and she raised her head, arms still crossed, to see the very edge of the blade inches from her sleeves. To either side, fire flared, but did not break. Instead, for a moment, it seemed to absorb the color from the blade.
Roots burst from the earth around Jewel’s ankles, wrapping themselves around her legs. She had no time for any other defense; he brought his shield in from the side to sweep her off her feet. She shuddered with the impact, and even with the grounding of those roots, she staggered; fire fled from her side as if it were blood.
You cannot triumph here if you do nothing but defend.
Voice dry as ash, she said, Thank you, Avandar.
He did not laugh. All of the wilderness in this place was hers. But he appeared by her side, and when he gestured, when he spoke, when he brought his arms up in a circle that ended with his palms, the earth trembled again.
Yes, she told it. Yes, now.
If the earth heard the relief in her voice, it gave no sign. Avandar was unarmed. Avandar carried no shield. He carried the weight of experience and the talent of the magi—but he’d always had those and they had never driven him to the very edge of sanity.
I was not insane, her domicis said.
We can define sanity later.
Lightning flashed in the clearing she had made; Avandar was its cloud, its gray-green sky. White light struck the demon lord’s chest; it drove him back two steps. At his height, at the length of his stride, that was a good ten feet. Claws broke earth as the Kialli halted his progress; runnels formed beneath his ancient, unseen feet.
Pillars of stones rose around The Terafin and her domicis. They spoke with the voice of the old earth, and it was angry. Had she thought them pillars? No. They were stone trees; she realized this the minute they stretched out their many, leafless branches. The demon was fast; he raised shield and stone splintered against it without causing any visible damage.
But he had one shield; the pillars, many arms. Nor were they kind enough to strike from only one direction. The great sword rose and fell in a whistling arc; branches clattered to the ground where the earth instantly absorbed them. Avandar, arms raised, head bowed, was pale. The stone pillars moved as the earth trembled, giving it voice; the earth did not break beneath the demon’s feet. Nor did it attempt to swallow him.
His knees bent as he pushed himself up in one lean, graceful motion, wings unfurling and taking, as they did, whole branches from the trees themselves. Those branches, like the great stone spears, moved to impede him, and diamond sliced obsidian as it passed. The demon roared in rage. Diamond shattered as his sword rose and fell.
It was not the only sword in the clearing now; it was the only red one.
Celleriant—angry—had arrived. The wind carried him; Jewel whispered a benediction to its rushing, agitated currents. It was not slow in the way the earth was, but it carried the only sworn knight in her very small Court toward his opponent. Like the earth, it was not hers to command; she granted permission, no more. But permission now was all that was needed.
* * *
Why is it always night?
Blue blade struck red. When two such blades were drawn, what other outcome could there be? Sky of red fire, sky of blue ice, and