Only to discover that he’d enmeshed himself in a nest of invisible ropes that formed a tangle around Wesyd; pushing in caused song to burst into volume, staggering him and urging him to simply stand still and listen.
Scorio ignored the effect, brushing off the mesmerizing nature of the song, and shoved Wesyd square in the chest as he came back around, intent on bringing more ropes to bear.
Wesyd, off-balance, staggered back and collapsed onto his ass, his song interrupted as he gasped in surprise.
The ropes immediately began to fade, their volume fading.
“Excellent,” said Scorio, extending his hand to the man even as he allowed his Heart to gutter. “And again, unlike anything I’ve seen before.”
Wesyd hesitated, clearly upset, then took Scorio’s hand and allowed him to haul him up. “You just walked right through my chains.”
“You’re a Tomb Spark. I’m a Dread Blaze. Our powers diminish in effect as we use them on more powerful beings.” Scorio grinned. “You should have seen me trying to fight Charnel Duke Plassus. I felt like a bear cub trying to wrestle a thousand-pound grizzly.”
His reassurance failed to have the desired effect. All three gaped at him.
“So it’s true?” Kelona’s brows couldn’t raise any higher. “You really fought him to a draw?”
“More like he took pity on my suicidal idiocy and chose not to kill me. I never had a chance of actually winning.” Scorio raised both palms. “It’s a complicated story. My point is, it’s never fair to fight a Dread Blaze one on one if you’re a Flame Vault or a Tomb Spark. Which is why…”
Scorio grinned, and Kelona immediately beamed and became solid gold once more. Nagarjuna straightened, took a deep breath, and gave a curt nod. “Sure, ready.”
Wesyd hopped up and down a few times and shook out his arms. “Watch out for my chains.”
“You’re the one controlling them,” said Kelona, edging out wide to flank Scorio. “Just don’t hit us.”
Scorio ignited his Heart and rose into his scaled form. His shoulders broadened, his height increased so that he towered over the other three, and his body felt light, lethal, and filled with the burning potential for violence.
The other three paused.
“Oh,” said Kelona. “That’s kind of terrifying, actually.”
Scorio grinned. “I promise I won’t go too hard.”
“Don’t hold back.” Kelona lowered herself into a runner’s ready stance. “Because we - won’t!”
She leaped at him as Wesyd began to sing and Nagarjuna collapsed into his mess of spike-tipped tentacles.
Scorio hurled himself at Kelona. Intuition guided him down under her swinging fist, his hand coming up to close around her metallic neck. He took the force of her leap in his arm, his shoulder, and her feet swept past as he checked her momentum, spun, and flung her into Nagarjuna’s oncoming tentacles.
Song exploded in his ears, but the resonance was slight; Scorio disregarded the Tomb Spark for now and closed with Nagarjuna, who’d flowed around and past Kelona’s tumbling form only to suddenly cut left. A Shroud burst into existence, large but insubstantial. Scorio slashed his way through it and gave chase. Wesyd’s musical chains flowed around him, tightening and passing through him over and over again.
At the last moment Nagarjuna burst toward him, a dozen spikes shooting over his shoulders, around Scorio’s waist and down his legs, seeking to wrap him again.
Kelona leaped at him once more, and hampered by the dozens of tentacles, Scorio was prevented from ducking or dodging her assault. She crashed into his side, arms wrapping around his waist and driving him down to the ground.
Scorio laughed as she reared up and began to pound her fists into his upraised forearms. Nagarjuna squirmed around him, wrestling to keep him pinned, and Wesyd fed invisible chains straight into his head, filling his mind with roaring song.
“Now!” shouted Kelona, and became incandescent. A feeling of awe washed through Scorio even as Wesyd poured more of his power straight into Scorio’s mind. Glorious song, glorious gold, and all the while Nagarjuna fitfully stabbed at him, trying to find a way through his scales.
It was a solid attack.
But now it was Scorio’s turn.
He summoned his flames from his core, drew forth his burning essence, and his body became a living inferno. Nagarjuna’s tentacles peeled away in pain, Kelona’s facial features went soft and began to run, but Scorio wasn’t intent on remaining in place; he poured himself away, rising and drawing back, then leaped up into the air, wings bursting forth, to climb five yards above the trio and, there, inhale the flames deep into his chest.
Kelona crouched, ready to leap at him. Nagarjuna reconfigured himself, aiming his spikes at where Scorio hovered. Wesyd spun his shimmering ropes about, preparing to hurl them up.
Which is when Scorio unleashed his flame breath and seared the air above their heads. For a moment all was inferno, the air torched, the power of his attack blinding. Then he cut off the breath and dropped to the ground, furling his wings to grin at his three charges. Kelona had spilled onto her ass; Nagarjuna had contracted into a tight mass, and Wesyd had staggered off to the side, his song cut off.
“Well done,” began Scorio.
Nagarjuna clicked two of his spikes together in a rapid staccato.
Kelona dropped into a crouch, arms going around her golden head, her back to the mass of tentacles. Wesyd turned and began to sprint away, going all out.
Scorio raised an eyebrow, and then Nagarjuna detonated.
The mass of tentacles exploded into hundreds of foot-long spikes that flew out in every direction on a wave of force that lifted Scorio off his feet. Spikes punched into his scales, would have slammed into his face if he hadn’t crossed his arms before his head. The force of the explosion was shocking. Scorio felt as if he’d been kicked in the solar plexus, and when he crashed to the ground and rolled it took him a second to catch his breath.
Shaking his head, he rose to his knees, and saw spikes being pushed out from Kelona’s golden back. Wesyd had thrown himself face down a dozen yards away and lay unhurt, glancing back over his shoulder at Scorio.
Nagarjuna had reverted to his human form, but lay flat on his back, blinking and staring up at the sky.
“Damn,” said Scorio, rising to his feet. “What was that?”
Kelona lowered her arms and rose to her feet. “Nagarjuna’s Flame Vault power. It’s an all or nothing attack. It gutters him really violently. Takes him awhile to recover.”
“And you’re not even scratched,” said Wesyd, rising up to sitting. “How is that possible?”
“I’m Gold-tempered,” said Scorio absently. “Nagarjuna? You with us?”
“No,” said the scrawny man, his chest rising and falling. “I’m not. I’m dead.”
“Oh, Juna.” Kelona sighed as she released her golden form. Her cheeks were flushed, and strands of her golden hair had escaped her bun. “He’s pretty much useless while he’s like that. He hates it.”
“At least his power isn’t chains of bad singing,” said Wesyd quietly, then looked away.
Scorio looked around. The spikes had flown out a good twenty, twenty-five yards from where Nagarjuna lay. He ran his burning-white talons over his chest. Several of the armor plates were cracked. “It’s a strong attack.”
Kelona stared at Scorio accusingly, then grimaced and turned away. Wesyd was scowling at the sand. Nagarjuna panted and stared straight up.
“Listen.” Scorio sank back to his human form. “You guys did well.”
Kelona snorted and shook her head.
“Seriously. That was some good teamwork. You clearly worked out a tactic beforehand, and you implemented it well. You know why I’m saying that?”
Wesyd raised his gaze, and Kelona glanced back at him.
“Because you forced me to use my Dread Blaze power.” Scorio grinned. “Up until that moment I was coasting on being Gold-tempered and leaning on my Shroud and command ability. But that moment where you were pounding my head into the sand while Nagarjuna wrapped me up and Wesyd filled my head with his song?” Scorio pretended to consider then gave a grudging nod. “That was actually damned good.”