The snake bites back

The ancient torches cast their eerily flickering light as Lux and Athisz face each other down, beneath the looming majesty of the citadel. Lux tries to keep her breathing steady, although her heart is beating like a drum. Last time she fought this battle, she barely made it out alive. And now –

Athisz darts forward, jaws gaping. Snake-fangs glitter in the torchlight. Lux throws herself aside, rolling on the dusty stone floor. She gasps an incantation.

Heavy strands of spiderweb materialise around Athisz, layering into a thick barrier. But the ancient naga is too quick, too strong. Before the webs can take hold, she’s already darting out, forked tongue hissing to form her own spell.

Lux’s eyes sting as the image of Athisz distorts, divides – as if she’s in two places at once. More. Only an illusion – probably – but what chance does Lux stand of landing a hit…?

Then there’s a flicker of light as Minn darts in, screaming a tiny battle-cry. Athisz turns too slow to bite and swipe, her shifting illusionary selves reflecting each other’s frustration. Maybe Minn can tell which one is real, maybe not – but a distraction is a distraction. All Lux can do is take advantage.

Half-crouched, she calls on the hellfire in her blood, and it answers. Points of bright flame appear in the air and she sends them in a salvo towards where she thinks Athisz’s body is. Two burst against stone, useless, before the third hits true, searing the naga’s scaled hide. Athisz lets out a screech and wheels around, the harassing sprite forgotten.

“You like to play with fire, mammal?” she roars. “Play with this!”

Realisation chills Lux – but not to the spot. She leaps to get clear as flame streaks toward her. Then the enclosed space is full of noise, a thundering roar, ringing in her ears. Heat lifts her and throws her down, rolling heavily on hard stone. She can smell burned hair. Much, much too close.

She can’t panic. She can’t give up. But she’s facing off against a creature bigger, stronger, faster than she – and a far more powerful sorceress. If she can’t find some kind of edge…

Again, a shout and a flicker of light. Minn dances with dazzling agility, harrying Athisz now from that angle, now from this – Lux sees the naga’s horrible head turn away, lips curled in rage –

But this time, Athisz is ready. Blurred by its distorted echo-images, the snake-tail lashes like a whip, and Minn –

Lux’s heart almost stops as Minn is struck, a nearly soundless blow. The sprite’s tiny form tumbles through the air, wings flickering weakly, unable to change course, before hitting the stone wall…

Burning anger rises inside Lux – stronger, in this moment, than her reason. With a wordless scream, she charges, reaching into the blurry haze of images, trying to grab at something solid. The serpentine body of Athisz tries to slither away, but Lux’s hand finds the grip of her sword – still embedded – and gets a firm grasp.

Athisz twists and thrashes, screeching as the blade digs in. Still driven by rage, Lux pulls the sword loose, and channels that inner heat through it. Athisz is caught off-guard, unable to stop one – two strikes slipping past, piercing her scales. Teeth gritted, Lux uses her free hand to hold on while the naga’s body twists and thrashes, hunting among the ghost images for a weak point to finish this –

Then – pain. Piercing, burning, in her hip. She looks down to see Athisz’s face, jaw opened unnaturally wide, sinking her great snake-fangs into Lux’s flesh. A scream of pain and horror breaks from Lux’s throat, fading to a whimper as the naga’s venom, now in her blood, begins to take its toll.

Tremors wrack her body, muscles misfiring, as she watches Athisz’s face rise up level with hers; doubled not by an illusion this time, but by Lux’s blurring vision. Those nightmare eyes gloating, victorious. A mere swat of the naga’s tail sends the sword skittering across the stone floor.

One last chance. With her other hand, Lux grasps the pixie lance. Her strength nearing its end, she jabs –

The tip strikes Athisz’s scales with a mocking tink. A small haze of pixie dust – and nothing else.

Athisz looks down in scorn and disbelief. “Of all the things,” she snarls, “to think I would not prepare for such petty tricks. Insulting.”

Eyes watering, head swimming, Lux stares up in the unpleasantly literal jaws of defeat. The time she was able to buy has just run out. If Sylvia is going to do anything, it’s now or never.