The Flaming Sword

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Everything was happening at once. Louis was sprawled on the ground, moaning, scarlet liquid seeping into the forest floor. Kari dove forward just as Asher reached for me, knocking his hand away, sending him sprawling. She shrieked, and fire erupted under her fingers, blackening the front of Asher’s shirt.

Adrenalin finally kicked in, and I started towards her, finger crooked into claws – I was ready to pull her off and scratch her eyes out. Something rammed into me, hitting me in the side so hard it knocked the breath out of my lungs.

I found myself on the ground, rocks and twigs digging into my arms, Trent looming over me. His knee was digging into my gut, pinning me down. “Stay out of it,” he grunted.

Wheezing, trying to catch my breath, I spat at him, “You really are her lap dog, aren’t you?”

Trent leaned down on his knee more heavily, making me thrash around to try to get out from under him. A strangled cry made me jerk in terror. That was Asher.

I heard Kari laughing, and it made my blood go cold. What had she done to him?

A sharp scream made Trent jerk up, freeing me for a minute, and I rolled to the left. Rocks dug into my skin and scratched through my clothes but I ignored the pain, jumping to my feet.

Kari was sprawled out on the ground, obviously unconscious. Maria was leaning over her and holding her head in her lap. Asher was a few feet away, on his knees. His face was twisted in pain and he held one hand to his side, blood leaking through his fingers.

“Asher!” I scrambled towards him. Fear and shock made my knees feel watery, and I dropped down beside him and grabbed his other arm. “Asher!”

His face was white, and he grabbed my hand so tightly it hurt. “Jess…run.”

“No!” I growled. “Get up. We’re leaving.” His broadsword was lying on the ground, and I grabbed the handle, pointing the tip of the sword toward the rebels, who were crowding around the still form of their leader.

“You can’t leave.” Trent moved toward me, one hand raised, and I leveled the sword at his head.

“Don’t,” I gritted the word out between my teeth. “Don’t try to stop us, or I’ll run you through.” I shifted the sword toward Kari’s unconscious form. “And then I swear to god I’ll chop her head off and sing the wicked witch is dead…”

“You’re getting too confident.” Trent took another step in my direction, and panic flared in my chest. There was a hissing sound, and fire flared along my arm, traveling down the length of the sword. The orange flames lit up the forest, illuminating the rebels: clearly showing the red spot of blood blooming in Kari’s hair, the furious look on Maria’s face, Trent’s wide eyes. He looked alarmed.

I took one hesitant step towards him, and my heart leapt when he backed away. “Take my mother and leave. You obviously need to regroup, you’re weak without her.”

A flicker of doubt passed over his face. “This isn’t over. She isn’t going to give up.”

I pretended to pause. “Wait, you’re right.” Raising the sword higher I said thoughtfully, “Maybe I should chop her head off right now.”

Trent whirled around and barked at the other two. “Get her back to base.”

I watched them drag her away through the trees. My body was still tense, waiting for them to be gone. Trent began to back away. “This will never be over.”

I began to back up in the opposite direction, sword wavering in my hands. It was getting really heavy. I turned to see Asher climbing slowly to his feet. He had a knife clutched in one hand, the one Kari had dropped.

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