Doing what has to be done

I bit back a cry as the tip of that blade drew blood from my thigh. I'd been a moment too slow to step back and my opponent didn't hesitate to punish me for it. Such a shallow cut shouldn't have bothered me in the slightest; I'd suffered far worse without so much as flinching, but the surface of that blade burned with a strange magic and caused searing pain beyond anything I'd ever known. My talisman confirmed it was magic each time the metal touched me, but the contact was too brief to clearly understand the nature of it. It hurt like hell; that was enough to motivate me to keep my pace up.

Feinting left, I darted right but the Hero wasn't fooled. He followed me effortlessly no matter what tricks I tried. His swordsmanship style was unusual but effective, with an economy of motion behind it that **** me to improvise a ****, exhausting defense. It was enough to make me deeply uncomfortable with the disparity in our abilities. I was certain I was no match for him in a fair fight; surprise would be necessary to defeat this monster and I had none. Tricks seemed not to work, either.

A soft gasp from the wagon reminded me of Idra's dire situation. If I couldn't kill this man maybe I could kill her, end her pointless suffering. She deserved that much. My heart thumping in my chest, I faded back towards the trees to lure the Hero away from his Mage. He followed, confident in his ability to deal with whatever I was planning, his sword flashing and seeking with each step. I knew he was toying with me and it burned me up inside. My whole body felt hot with rage as I carefully backed around in a very wide arc until my opponent was no longer between me and his ally.

This Hero was a competent opponent. He'd broken my spy network, lured me into a trap, and was my better with a blade. He controlled powers I couldn't even understand, and if that Mage was any indication of the sort of minions he had under his command, he represented a much larger threat to my queen than my intelligence had originally suspected. He was going to be the ruin of nations. Possibly all of them.

I had to stop him. But how? It seemed impossible.

The heat of my anger grew hotter. I imagined flames all around me, licking at my face and chest. Even my belly was hot. My head felt fuzzy and my long knives grew heavier as I kept up my frantic defensive maneuver. I couldn't keep it up for much longer. Panting, I dug deep and **** myself to do the one thing I felt I had enough strength for. Secure Idra's relief. I could do that, but then I'd be finished.

I took another step and my leg quivered, my strength failing. Gasping for breath, I barely had time to deflect another attack from the Hero's cursed blade. I turned the blade aside easily, like there was no real **** behind the attack. Something wasn't right. Why was my body so hot? Beads of sweat ran down my neck and spine. I shook my head, trying to gather my focus.

I felt too aware of my body, my senses of the world around me were dulled but every ache and twitch of every inch of my body was perfectly clear. The heat was dizzying, I swallowed, blinking my eyes, willing them to focus on the Hero's next attack, but he just stood there, grinning his infuriating grin as I swayed drunkenly on my feet.

"You have a very robust constitution," he said, sheathing his sword. "Anyone else would be a puddle by now. I'm very impressed."

I heard him as if he were far away, and the full meaning of what he was saying didn't register. I panted, lowering my own arms to the great relief of my aching shoulders. My skin was on fire. My clothing felt tight and uncomfortable, damp with sweat and trapping all my body heat. Most annoying was the intense heat directly between my legs. My clothing was soaked through, there, and slick.

It was hard to put two thoughts together unless it was focusing on my own body. I'd never felt so debilitated in my life. Idra. I needed to help Idra.

I had one trick yet to play. It was the reason I'd spent so much time and energy maneuvering as I had. It took all of my focus and remaining strength to pull the secret weapon from its hiding place and direct it towards my target. I threw myself sideways as I fired it, hoping to convince the Hero that I intended to use it on him, twisting at the last moment to instead target the Mage.

The weapon, a narrow stone rod the length of my forearm, cracked as it spent its payload in the direction of the two women. I hit the ground and lost all awareness of what followed, hoping that I'd accomplished something. Anything. My mission was a total failure, but maybe I'd saved Idra from her torment.

Lying on the ground, I clawed at my clothing, **** to find any release from the unbearable heat.