Pursuit (Through Time 1)

Fire came out of Sir Ugly’s (as Chance had dubbed him) mouth. Blood and other fluids dripped in clumps from its black tongue, and it displayed its huge double rows of sharp teeth.

They were all directly in the path of the flames shooting out of its mouth, but they managed to jump back just in time to escape burning; however, the flames scorched the floor where they had been.

Trev was right. She had been taught how to fight, but what she needed now was a strategy.

Flames licked the air as a few pieces of furniture caught fire.

They felt the tentacles of the flames bite at them as Sir Ugly waved his arms around wildly, threateningly trying to catch Chance, who kept the thing’s attention on himself.

It stood a moment and hissed out a breath before saying in invitation, “Come on then, is that all ye’ve got, Chancemont?” Then it shot out a ball of flame from its disgusting mouth.

They all ducked, and the ball hit the wall behind them and filled the chamber with a dark cloud of smoke.

“Och … aye …” said Chance, still taunting the monster. “Good one—ye’ve killed the wall, ye have.”

The awful beast screamed with fury and looked as though it were about to pound its chest like King Kong. Then it came thumping across the floor and reached for Chance.

Royce knew the creature was about to connect with Chance, and she hurriedly jumped in front of Chance, holding up the Peckering.

It had been an instinctual act, and she was more surprised than anyone else when the beast stopped short, and something fell and bounced away from its claws.

“Get out of here—go on, hang back, lass,” Chance growled at her.

“His wand, Princess … he has dropped his wand,” said the Peckering.

It suddenly dawned on her: all this time, the Fallen Druid had been holding his sorcerer’s wand.

He would be so much less powerful without it, and he would be stuck in his present form until he could retrieve it.

She took a deep breath and once again was reminded how brave humans were each time they risked their lives for an ‘ideal’ or for someone else.

She still had Fae super-speed and took a leaping Ninja jump, got to the wand, grabbed it, and held fast, but even as she started back, she felt the hot fire’s breath at her butt and the sting of the beast’s claws as they gouged a path across her back.

Pain!

It shot through her, her mind reeled with it, and her body clenched from it. Absurdly she tried to reach over her shoulder a

nd did in fact bring back a hand wet and sticky with her warm blood.

She saw blood pooling at her feet and stumbled off and away from it as she controlled herself from crying out at the anguish her body was experiencing.

Flesh—her flesh lay bloodied and raw on the stone floor.

Chance was near her, touching her, holding her up, shielding her with his body. He called to Trevor to take her out of the fray.

Trevor was there, cradling her. “Don’t move, Red. You’re hurt … real bad …”

She looked up and strained to see Chance, who was roaring at the beast like a man crazed. She turned back to Trevor, and her voice was scarcely audible. “Trev, go on … help him …” She felt the room spin out of control, and with a cry of sheer agony she curled into herself.

Somehow she had to manage to hold it together, but at the moment she knew she was useless to help. She couldn’t move, but she saw and understood what Chance was trying to do.

What he needed was a clear shot at the beast. He needed to use his Death Sword to kill it—nothing else would.

Trevor must have realized this at the same moment she did, for he whispered for her to ‘hold on’ and got up and charged the Fallen Druid in attempt to divide his attention.

She was surprised to see Trevor’s skill as he super-sped to the beast’s flank and railed at it even as he stepped out of range.

The Fallen Druid beast was diverted and turned away from Chance.