Inside the Beast's Castle

Chapter 42--Deaths

Brennen's still dying.

I've got to do something.

What?

The blade poked further into my neck. "Well?" Vadik demanded.

Slowly, I rose up. I scanned Brennen for any type of movement that could give my answer away.

None.

"He's dead," I whispered.

Vadik laughed and removed the blade. I stood up and turned toward him. His arms were in the air in celebration, a sick smile spreading wide across his face.

"What do you know!" he cried. "Monsters really are killable."

Do I need him alive?

Vadik wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pressed his face up to mine. His lips traced my cheek. "That just leaves you now, Zara."

In one swift movement, the knife was back at my throat.

"Need me for what?" I gasped.

Stall him. I need a plan.

"Are you that stupid?" he growled. "I need you to die. It makes an incredibly convincing story, that you rushed in to save your Beast and attacked me. In all your craziness, I was forced to kill you."

He pressed the knife deeper into my neck. All it would take to kill me would be one flick of his wrist. One movement so simple, and my life would be over in a spray of blood.

Spray of blood...

He can use magic.

The scratches and shards of glass that were in Vadik's arms were gone when I faced him. He must have transferred them to an animal.

He can heal himself. Could I transfer Brennen's wound over?

It was worth a shot. There would only be one outcome, though.

Someone would die.

Whether I was me, Vadik or Brennen, one of us would die.

I have to get him to start the spell, and he won't do that willingly.

"Any last words, Zara?"

I choked at the pressure of the knife. Disarm him.

His body was pressed up against mine, so I could feel exactly where he was.

Foot first.

I lifted my leg and stomped on his toes with all my might, imagining that I was pounding through the earth with my foot.

Vadik proceeded to drop his arms around me, letting me free. I stepped forward and cast my gaze down. I grabbed his shoulders and pulled towards me quickly, bring me knee up to hit him right where it hurts.

A high-pitched screech escaped Vadik's mouth.

I ignored it and cast my eyes down to his hands. He held the knife in his right hand, so with my left, I grabbed his wrist and twisted it, feeling the satisfying snap of bones leaving the joint. Or breaking. One or the other.

With the knife firmly held in my left hand, I grabbed Vadik's head and shoved it down, pushing him toward the stones.

He fell, face first on the gravel.

It all happened in about a second.

The next step was to drive the knife through his heart. But I couldn't. I had to injure him enough that he'd start to try to heal himself, but not enough that he would die from his injuries.