trying to get in front of me. He planned to take the magical hit. From mages this good, it could be instantly fatal.
Terror bled through me. My own protection instinct, born of motherhood, flared to life—like Austin, I completely forgot my sense of self-preservation the moment someone I cared about was in danger.
But I also had more magic than Austin.
Drawing from the training Damarion had given me, I ballooned magic around us even as I kicked Austin out of the way, my magic greatly enhancing the strength of the blow.
He flew to the side, hitting the wall next to the flowers. The zip of light from the mage smashed against the balloon of magic I’d created, and then flowed along the periphery, lighting the arch of it up.
The gargoyles stepped out of the cave entrance, Damarion first, and he quickly realized what was happening. His wings snapped out, one hitting the rock wall, nearly spearing Austin, and the other pushing out through the trees, the span striking me as incredible regardless of how many times I’d seen it.
The mage on my right got a shot off. It slapped my bubble and spread along it, just as the first had done. This one, though, sputtered and fizzed, shooting sparks.
My magic dissolved under the pressure, leaving us open to their attack.
Niamh bolted toward them and leapt from the ground onto the face of the mage in front of me. That mage shrieked, magic erupting from her fingertips as she reached for Niamh, now clawing and tearing and biting at her face.
The magic zinged toward me. Before I could react, Damarion grabbed me and turned his back, his wing whipping around me for more shelter.
“No, Damarion!” I tried to struggle out, tried to toss magic between him and the attack, but my counterstrike must’ve missed, because he grunted and pushed forward from the force of the attack. Immediately he started to sink down, releasing me as he hit his knees. “No!”
I touched his shoulder, pain curling within me. He was terrible at romance, but he was a decent guy and a great warrior. He didn’t deserve to go down on my watch.
The telltale fizzing in my belly—the feeling I attributed to healing magic—came as a relief.
His wings wilted, and I stepped out from behind them as more gargoyles tried to get out of the cavern. The mage in the middle was, thankfully, sinking to her knees, screeching, as Niamh bit into her jugular.
The one on the right waved her hands, probably creating a spell, but the one on the left already had her hands jutting out—open fire.
I slapped magic at her, deadening whatever bit of nastiness she was unleashing as Austin rushed forward, a deep and vicious growl riding his movements.
Another zip of magic pulled my attention right, and I braced myself to take the hit.
A snarl interrupted my flinch, and my magic sparkled to life in front of me, forming what I hoped to be another shield. I needed a lot more practice to identify all this stuff.
Arms swinging and vicious canines bared, the basajaun materialized just inside the pine branches, his hair reminiscent of an eighties hair band and his continued growls terrifying.
The mage recoiled, understandably, and her spell blasted the rock to my right. A pink gargoyle’s arm wrapped around me, and he pumped his wings in an attempt to lift me out of there.
“Would you guys just stop?” I yelled, blasting Ulric back. “Thank you, but I can fight!”
The basajaun reached for the mage and picked her up by the head—and then I had second thoughts about being flown out of there. The splat of the body against the rocks made me retch. The way he then spiked her detached head like a football had me splashing the contents of my stomach onto the ground.
“Oh God, maybe I don’t want to fight. This is too much for me.” I struggled to stand up, trying to stay strong in the face of such unbridled brutality, only to see Austin rise up on his back legs, his height topping the basajaun’s by three feet or more. He swiped with his huge paw, battering the last mage standing. She slapped the stone wall, something cracking. He lumbered forward, pinned her with his paws, bent, and ripped her neck out.
A tortured groan escaped my mouth. I burped up bile. “All right, then, sure. Yeah, let’s fly away. Good idea.”
But Ulric was no longer trying to save me. He bent over Damarion, his hand