dragon de merde offing Mercier, the cons—such as, if he dies I die—outweigh any advantages.
“You sure about the salt, Prof?”
“Istor Breou talks about demons . . . taking all sorts of forms,” he pant-mutters. “A guivre being one of them.”
The smoke disperses. Instead of shapes and outlines, I can see everything clearly, especially since the beast managed to level Adrien’s cluttered house. I’d joke about how nice and zen it looks, especially with its brand-new, unobstructed view of the fog and stars, but I suspect that would earn me a throat-punch from Cadence.
The dragon twists around like a cat whose tail got squashed and hisses a puff of fire at Adrien, blowing back his untidy blond strands and lighting them up like wicks. Howling, he palms his head. While I stand there, trying to decide how best to help, Cadence scoops up the fire extinguisher and squirts a rope of white foam at his smoldering, newfangled haircut.
Adrien blinks, then swipes at his eyes like a wild man.
Cadence grimaces. “Sorry. I, uh—”
“It’s okay. I’m okay.” Adrien does not look okay. He scrabbles for the salt he’s stocked in his pockets, pinches some out, then flicks it at the beast.
The guivre snaps its head back, but then it lunges. Adrien dives out of the way, sliding over the whitened remains of calcinated wood, bumping into my boots. I grab his arm and heft him up.
“What about if we put a circle of salt around it? Like we did with that garlic mixture for Matthias?” Cadence suggests. “Not that it worked on him . . .”
“We’d have to get the damn thing to stay in one place first.” On the wall beside the front door, which is surprisingly intact, I catch a glimpse of silver—two elaborate crisscrossed swords.
The sulfur must be making me giddy. I’m thinking of unhooking them to fight the dragon like one of Bastian’s favorite fictional characters. Yeah. There’s gotta be some hallucinogenic effect to the brimstone, because not only am I thinking of doing it, I actually feel like I could win and not get cursed. Before I can analyze my chances of becoming an epic hero or an epic piece of toast, I race across the open space and rip Excalibur down. Its heft takes me by surprise, and I nearly chop off my own foot.
Smooth.
I go to toss the sword Adrien’s way when Cadence shrieks my name. I spin around in time to see the beast hack up a giant fireball. I swing like I’m playing cricket. The blade connects with the fiery orb, which glances off and sails straight through a smashed window.
Advantage, Slate.
I’m about to gloat about my backhand when Cadence yells my name again.
The creature snarls and flaps its fibrous wings once before lowering its head like a bull and charging me with its razor-tipped, obsidian horns.
“Don’t make contact, Slate!” Cadence yells. “You’ll get cursed! Please!”
Right.
I reel my arm back and toss the sword like a javelin, hoping to brain the beast. The blade meets flesh—not quite where I was aiming—with a loud, wet squelch. The dragon shakes its head, but Excalibur stays stuck, dangling from its left nostril like a giant piercing.
“Adrien! Cadence! The salt!”
They dash over. With trembling hands, Adrien digs the salt out of his pockets, dumps some in Cadence’s palm, then reaches for more. Thank fuck he filled his pockets with the stuff because sifting salt out of this mess would’ve been impossible. Back to back, they draw arcs around the goth creature until they reach me.
“What do we do now?” Cadence asks.
“Gaëlle gave me a Sumerian demon burial bowl.”
“Wouldn’t happen to be in your pocket, Prof, ’cause—” I jut my chin to the surrounding rubble.
Cadence scans the wreckage, and then she’s dashing toward where the couch used to be and leaning over, her black skirt riding up her ruined black tights. Too soon, she’s straightening and flipping around, a hammered silver bowl tucked against her heaving chest. “This it, Adrien?”
He joggles his head as though his spine has turned into a spring.
Cadence strides back toward us, hair loose and whipping around her face, cheekbones blackened by soot. She looks like an avenging goddess come to defeat all evil. Badass and edible.
The dragon sneezes out the sword, the whizzing clank stealing my attention off the woman I almost passed on because of scruples. Fuck scruples. If Adrien’s spell works, and I get to live another day, I’m going to make this girl mine.
The beast wheezes out a fireball aimed directly