The Scrivener s Tale - By Fiona McIntosh Page 0,226
horror as Cyricus suddenly reached up to his head and, as though he were peeling the skin off a ripe, juicy finula, tore away the flesh that encased him. Unfolding out of the dark space within was a monstrous, forbidding shape. It was huge, troll-like, with a head as big as a boulder and a body that looked far too large, making that massive head appear like a pebble on a cliff top. The hirsute body shifted and blotted out the pretend light that was dappling through the pretend trees of Gabe's creation.
Cyricus stood to his full height and cast aside the shell of Fynch like an empty husk. It looked tiny and pathetic by comparison with the creature that stood before him.
The voice belonged to the same, sly Cyricus that he knew.
'Well, Cassien, brother of clever Hamelyn and no doubt brother also to Gabriel, it appears to me that I shall have to take out my rage on you.'
Cassien drew his sword and for the first time he heard its voice. It was female and she screamed her joy at being drawn in the Void and her fury at who stood before her. 'The sword knows you, Cyricus.'
'Knows me? Could I care any less, brave Cassien? Do you really believe a blade frightens me? You can smite me a hundred times and I won't feel it.' And the troll-like creature leapt.
Cassien swiftly retreated behind the trees. He could hear Cyricus laughing. Cassien dodged one way and then spun back the other. He thought he'd given himself enough clearance, but he underestimated again how swiftly the demon could move. He felt a vice-like grip and he was thrown into the air. Then his training took over and he twisted to land lightly before rolling, never letting go of his sword, which was now singing, and he could hear her beautiful voice.
The boldly drawn face of Cyricus, with its heavy brow and pouting lips, formed a frown. He hadn't expected Cassien to be so acrobatic. 'Tell your blade to stop its incessant song so we can focus on killing one another.'
'Are you finding it annoying?' Cassien taunted. 'Wait until it cuts you.'
'I could take a thousand cuts from that needle and barely feel a sting,' Cyricus retorted.
Cassien leapt forward, but the troll was ready for him and swept a hand in a big arc. The connecting fist felt like a tree hitting him and Cassien was punched back. He felt bones splinter somewhere as he broke his fall and he registered the annoyance of pain but didn't so much as pause. He was back on his feet.
'You are tough, Cassien.'
'I told you. I am here to destroy you. If it requires my final breath, I'll give it.'
Cyricus exploded with laughter before bearing down on Cassien, but Cassien was quicker to react this time, rolling beneath the clubbing fist. He was behind the troll within a heartbeat and, holding the hilt of the sword like a spear, he plunged the blade into the creature's great calf muscle.
Cyricus roared with pain.
Cassien. End it. Your body ... it just convulsed. Ham's worried voice pressed into his mind.
This had happened the first time he'd roamed, he was sure. He had trembled for days afterwards. Romaine had nearly attacked him she had been so angry with him. He'd promised her he would never push to such a limit again, and he hadn't ... until now.
'Ooh, that hurt me, little mortal,' Cyricus jeered.
Cassien noticed that although the wound barely bled because the creature's hide was so tough, there was a distinct blue-black welt snaking its way up the demon's leg, like a trace of poison. Cyricus was unaware and thought of it as barely more than a scratch, it seemed.
He couldn't follow the thought and should not have hesitated as he had. Cyricus flung him again and this time Cassien couldn't break his fall as well as he had on the previous occasion. He found himself wrapped around a tree, ribs smashed, coughing up blood.
'That's real blood. The Void doesn't spare us,' Cyricus sneered. 'You are certainly courageous. Not so much as a groan of pain. What are you?'
'I'm your destroyer, Cyricus,' Cassien said again, ignoring the immense pain as he hauled himself slowly back to his feet. He had not let go of the sword and he leaned on it now.
Cyricus laughed mirthlessly. 'Yes, you look like you could really hurt me, mortal. What is in your mind to make you think to hunt me?'