explosion, they’ll be unstable.”
Amal handed me her pistol. “I think you should maybe stick to this.”
We moved gingerly through the gallery. I spotted a vase from one of the
shattered cases, amazingly still intact. Apparently, magical objects were
rather hard to destroy.
A ray of green light slammed into Jaxson’s chest and sent him flying back
into the smoldering debris. Then Kahanov skittered like a spider through the
top of the doorway and leapt down toward me with a pale green blade in his
hand.
The Soul Knife.
I dodged back as the metal swiped within an inch of my throat.
Before I could extend my claws, Amal flew into him and hurled him
backward through the air. He slammed into the wall, and the knife clattered
across the floor.
I froze, torn between going for Kahanov and for the knife.
He rose, hands burning with green light and blood dripping from his
chest.
With no time to think, I called my magic and smothered the floor with
shadows. Kahanov looked about wildly for the knife, and then, with a howl
of rage, he released a wall of green fire that ripped through the room.
Searing pain blinded me for a second as the unnatural flames burned my
exposed skin. It was all I could do to concentrate on the shadows hiding the
blade. Agony took every lucid thought from me, save one—protect the knife.
I rolled over in time to see Amal whip a potion bomb through the air.
There was a blinding flash of light, and when my vision returned, Jaxson was
hauling me to my feet, and Kahanov was gone.
“Are you okay?”
“Get him!” I shouted. “I’ll grab the knife!”
Jaxson and Amal raced into the next room as I staggered over to where
the Soul Knife still lay in the charred debris, cloaked by a veil of darkness