Phoenix Chosen #3 (The Phoenix Guardians #3)

24. Kalistratos

24

KALISTRATOS

B ehind me, Airos stands with his staff, deflecting the arrows targeting my back. A crackle of emerald lightning splits the shaft in two, and it strikes the soft mud near my feet. From the corner of my eye, I see the shadow twisting around the thin willow shaft like a serpent on its prey, the same dark power placed upon my opponent’s blade.

The wolf swordsman dashes at me, his sword held low for a sweeping upward strike. As I step to evade, I catch a glimpse of Tyler stumbling out from behind a fallen tree, chasing Jackson into the forest. They’re going for the archer.

Dammit .

I have to reverse my position and get my opponent’s back to the archer. Then I can push forward and get to where they are. But they’re skilled, and I’m only adequate with a sword—my skills lie in stealth and ambush, not all-out combat. I can’t use my phoenix powers. Every time I get close, I feel their cursed blade eating away at my phoenix energy. Every time I try to move behind him, he blocks me.

New plan.

I turn and run back the way we came, hoping to stay parallel to the archer's position. The trees whiz by me like pillars in a temple. An arrow whines and ricochets off a tree trunk.

“Get them, Airos!” I shout.

The archer is targeting me, but I can slip their range as long as I keep moving.

Airos immediately darts into the forest and the swordsman comes after me. He’s on all four paws, the sword clenched between his teeth. I’m back on dry soil—good for me, but even better for him. I weave and dive over fallen trees, but my pursuer navigates them with ease. I can hear his paws pounding the ground behind me. And I can feel the darkness clawing at my back, tugging at every thread of my power it can get ahold of. I can’t keep up this pace.

I train my ears to his footfalls, feeling the distance between us. He’s gaining. No choice. I have to fight.

I turn, and he grabs his sword from his mouth and leaps for me. His sword clangs against mine as I redirect his attack, and his momentum carries him over me as I duck out of the way. I follow his movement and am caught off guard by a sudden swipe of his back leg jolting out like a snakebite. His claws barely miss my face, but his foot pad catches me in the jaw, cracking my head to the side. Bright spots whirl around me like falling stars. I steady myself, and my opponent is already coming for me again. It’s quite clear—capture is not what he intends for me. It’s the omegas they want, and I will not let them succeed.

“You’ve made a keen mistake, aligning yourself with a treacherous shit-weasel like Praxis Skotos,” I taunt as I bound backward, leading him further into the forest, away from where the others are. “And an even bigger mistake coming after me.”

He responds with another attack, and I dance out of the way as his sword whips through two nearby saplings.

“Nice try!” I say as the trees topple over, their branches crackling as they impact the forest ground. “Too slow!”

His eyes burn with intense focus. I already know that no amount of taunting will throw him off—but I can’t help myself.

I block his next attack, and the power of the blow sends a vibration through my sword so strong that I have to grab my wrist to steady my arm.

He reaches over our locked blades, grabs my chiton and yanks me toward him. His blade is just an inch from my face. Its dark powers singe me like white-hot coals against flesh. My phoenix energy pours from my body, and I can’t hold back a scream of shock and pain. I push against him with everything I have, trying to break free from his grip. I swing my elbow upward to push his sword away and manage to break free with a hard kick to his shin, nearly snapping my own leg. My chiton tears at the shoulder and falls open, exposing my chest. That’s when I see he’s somehow managed to cut me. A trickle of hot blood runs down my skin from a thin diagonal slash across the muscle.

The corner of his mouth tugs into a smirk that quickly vanishes. He knows he outmatches me in swordplay.

I’m only going to have one opportunity to defeat him.

He comes at me again— Cheesus, the bastard is fast .

I spin on my toe and do the only thing I can do—run.