A gunshot echoed through the trees. He'd one once before, on the beach with the invaders from earth. A vision of Thea riding across the sand towards them flickered to the front of his thoughts, even as he pinned another guard to the floor with a tree root. He looked back over his shoulder just as Mace and a stranger emerged from the crowd, weapons raised. Relief flooded through him, concern hot on its heels.
"Where's Gawain?" he asked, deflecting another blade. "I thought he must have been with you?"
And where was Grayson? Bryar? A noise of frustration rumbled in his throat as he reached for the flowing branches of one of the neighbouring trees. He wrapped them around the waists of their nearest two assailants, and then urged them back and up, tugging them from their feet. Celidon was less restrained. Despite his injury, he galloped past Josephine, throwing himself at the soldiers at the very end of the advancing lines.
Go? Irritation flared. A forcefield erupted around them unbidden, forcing those around them back and away with a sudden wave of power. Taking advantage of the delay, he concentrated on the feeling of the ground beneath his feet, bracing against the earth. Around them, rocks, pebbles, boulders, rose into the air. Exhaling steadily, Tristan released them, drawing the forcefield back, closer to his friends as the debris flew through the clearing. Some of the guards reached for their own magic, shattering some of the larger rocks into pieces.
"Not without you," he told Mace, firmly. "I'm done running and letting other people fight my battles for me. We go together or not at all. I'm your king too, and I'm not asking."
Water from Thoth's latest attack splattered against his cheek as his forcefield fell. Tristan turned his sword and smacked the nearest guard hard in the jaw with the pommel. She dropped to the ground like a sack of grain, and her body tripped her nearest companion, right into the path of Mace's companion. Thoth however wasn't where he'd left him.
Tristan cast around for sight of him, and froze.
"What the fu--"
Thoth was no longer Thoth. He stood a short distance away, half Thoth, half...something else.
"Mace!" Tristan warned, directing the older man's attention in the direction of wolf-Thoth, moments before the blood-curdling howl echoed through the clearing.
The next moment Celidon was back. He landed between them and wolf-Thoth, his hackles raised, but lips low, defensive rather than threatening. Every head in the clearing seemed to turn at once at the gory spectacle unfolding in their midst and the battle lulled. The sickening sound of shattering bone cut through the hushed silence, and wolf-Thoth licked his jaws.
Oh Thoth.
"Move," Tristan hissed, giving Mace's shoulder a hard shove. The gap was still there, a clear line out into the undergrowth. Standing shoulder-to shoulder with Mace, and with Celidon in front, they backed. A trumpet blared somewhere to their right. Some of Mordred's men began to fall back, whilst others, fire wielders, explosive experts, advanced.
"Run!"
put all your faults to bed
TristaN
you can be king again