But he didn’t charge in. What powers might Davelos have? He seemed warm, cheerful, gregarious. He’d have made a heartfelt decision on his first trial, so his power would be a close-combat one. He was also outgoing, but then—no. The way he’d narrowed his eyes, the manner in which his charm had slipped, was that more of an act?
Guess he’d find out.
Warily Scorio approached the Dread Blaze, burning claws held out to the sides, chin lowered, ready for anything.
“Intimidating,” said Davelos, turning to address Evelyn. “I like it. Very intimidating.”
Evelyn nodded but made no comment.
Just as Scorio drew near, just as he was considering exploding into a charge, Davelos changed.
Scorio felt the Dread Blaze’s Heart Ignite, a wash of great power blowing off him, and then Davelos swelled in size as his skin turned bright Copper, his shoulders and back bulking up massively even as his arms elongated and his waist grew spindle thin. His thighs swelled, his lower legs grew long and curved, and large spikes of Copper burst out of his shoulders, looking like a cluster of metallic crystals.
No talons or teeth; he seemed to be all Copper plating over fibrous, rope-like muscle, utterly inhuman, his features simplified and his eyes burning with a bright, brassy light.
But there were swirls of black in there, too; not many, but here and there the Copper was rougher, as if seams of Coal had been stirred in.
Scorio burst forward and speared his talons at the Dread Blaze’s head, but Davelos raised his Copper palm and blocked it.
Three of Scorio’s white-hot talons punched through the man’s palm, Copper melting and oozing around the wounds, but the hand itself didn’t budge. Davalos curled his fingers around Scorio’s knuckles, clutched his fist, then turned and hurled the shocked Tomb Spark.
Scorio’s feet left the ground as his shoulder wrenched. He tumbled through the air, landed hard, and bounced, but arrested his momentum by raking his talons into the dirt. He rose to a crouch and sprinted back, the tumble not having hurt him at all.
Davelos waited for him, his hand already healed.
Scorio came at him with a series of great raking slashes, but now the Copper man swayed and slid aside, graceful and limber, impossible to hit. Scorio bit back a growl, and then caught himself. He was fighting like a beast. He thought he could feel Feng’s disapproval, and reined in his fury.
Instead, as his next slash missed, he pivoted and brought a kick up and around, spinning with the blow. It should have cracked into Davelos’s chest like the boom of a sailing ship, knocking the man right off his feet—but instead passed clear through him as the man turned to bright Copper mist.
Scorio staggered then whirled in disbelief. Davelos reformed a moment later, his mouth curled into a smile.
His friends murmured in consternation.
Scorio forced a deep exhalation, relaxed his shoulders, and drew cautiously closer. He had his own tricks to bring to bear.
Just before he was close enough to exchange blows, he manifested his Tomb Spark ability and allowed his aura to wash out over Davelos.
Surrender, he thought furiously at the other man. Surrender now.
He felt his will course through the air, envelope Davelos, who stiffened for a moment and then laughed. “I don’t know what you just tried to do, but it’s not going to work.”
Scorio gaped at the man. “Because you’re a Dread Blaze?”
“No,” said Davelos, and slid in lightning fast to hammer his fist into Scorio’s face.
Caught flat-footed, there was no chance of dodging. A new reflex kicked in, and he poured what little mana remained into summoning his Shroud, which manifested right before him, a yard tall and several feet wide.
Davelos’s Copper fist shattered it and crashed home square in the center of Scorio’s face, crushing his nose and lifting him off his feet.
Scorio hit the ground shoulders first, tumbled into a backwards roll, and then lay there, face down, claws causing the grass to blacken and burn.
Then his Heart guttered so that he shrank to his natural form. The pain in his face was bad but not the worst; the Shroud had clearly deflected some of the strength, the gods be praised, and his scaled form had managed to protect him from the worst.
Still, it hurt, his nose burned, his head rang, and for a moment it was all he could do to just lie there, propped up on his elbows, brow on the grass.
“One down,” said Davelos, tone cheerful. “Five more to go.”
“The sun’s setting,” said Evelyn pointedly.
“Then let’s wrap this up. All of you at once.”
The other five spread out warily. Naomi shifted into her Nightmare Lady form, tail swishing from side to side, while Zala extended her palms so that her glowing butterflies began to pour out. Nezzar appeared in Leonis’s fist, while Juniper and Jova approached cautiously.
Blinking away the pain, Scorio forced himself to sit up and watch.
They mobbed him.
The Nightmare Lady fell upon him first, talons and tail lashing at him, but he turned to mist and floated to one side, reforming a second later to crash a fist across her horned brow before turning to mist again as Nezzar passed through him. The Nightmare Lady tumbled to the ground then leaped to her feet, but now Juniper was in the way, swinging her fists at Davelos and leaving craters of blinding light where she landed punches on his shoulder and side.
He didn’t seem to notice the blows but reared back from the bright light. Leonis brought Nezzar scything down upon the Copper man’s head, but he turned to mist again. Leonis’s cry turned to one of surprised panic as he stumbled through Davelos, who manifested beside him and slammed an elbow into the big man’s back.
Leonis hit the ground just as the Nightmare Lady leaped over his falling figure, her tail blade spearing into Davelos’s face.
Only to be deflected by what had to be the Dread Blaze’s Shroud, which appeared as half a hemisphere before him, glimmering with fierce coppery light. The Nightmare Lady crashed off it, fell onto all fours, and then the Shroud was gone, just as Jova ran in to glare at the Dread Blaze.
Her terror power.
It had no effect on him.
Davelos backhanded her casually as he passed her, spinning her around so that she fell to one knee, turned insubstantial as the Nightmare Lady shredded the air where he’d stood, then appeared again to catch her by the tail and whip her around with such strength that she left the ground and slammed into Juniper so that they both collapsed in a tangle to the ground.
The first of Zala’s butterflies landed on him.
Davelos stilled and raised his arm to stare at them. “Now this is interesting. No thank you.”
And he blew away into a coppery mist once more, flowed toward Zala in his insubstantial form, only to appear at the last second and punch her right in her gut.
Zala bowed over his arm, all her breath bursting out of her, then collapsed slowly to the ground, the butterflies no longer pouring forth.
Davelos turned to survey the battlefield. Jova had risen and was approaching, the Nightmare Lady and Juniper were disentangling themselves, and Leonis was practically growling as he strode toward the Dread Blaze, Nezzar swinging in an ever-faster circle from his fist.
“I think that’s good,” said Davelos, shifting down to his natural form, his clothing materializing, his smile broad. “We’d have to escalate things if we kept at it, and I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Not bad, right?” said Evelyn, moving forward.
Davelos moved his head from side to side. “Yeah, not bad. Though they’re obviously just Emberlings and Tomb Sparks. Not much they can do yet. But they’ve got promise, I suppose.”
Scorio forced down his anger and struggled to his feet. Blood was running down his upper lip. “We forced you to use your Shroud.”