Magic Games Page 34

Sera wasn’t sure if the monster even understood her. It was thumping one of its hooves against the ground, kicking up a hell of a sandstorm, but that was just normal bull behavior. You know, before they…charged.

She jumped out of the way of the charging bull, running behind a cluster of those metal mushroom cylinders. Cutler had warned her to stay away from them, but this was the same mage who’d gotten himself stuck on top of the Golden Gate Bridge. Twice. He’d been waiting to hitch a ride with a flock of migrating winged horses that had never come. And no matter how many times he insisted the horses took that path south, they never came. Maybe they didn’t even exist. Cutler wasn’t exactly the universe’s most reliable source of information. Or common sense, for that matter.

So far, the metal mushrooms he’d warned her about hadn’t done anything more menacing than look like metal mushrooms, so she was going to take her chances with them. They couldn’t be worse than the elemental bull who wanted to skewer her on his horns and fling her bloody remains against the magic barrier.

The mushrooms were sticking too far out of the ground for the bull to run over them. She hoped. The beast hadn’t yet slowed its gallop. The ground quaked under its hooves—and its magic. Earth magic, so ancient it rumbled in her soul, was pulsing out of the creature, seeping into the ground. The whole stadium was shaking now.

Just as Sera was starting to worry that the bull’s magic would take down the entire building—pouring the broken steel and concrete remains into the train station below—the creature’s magic shifted to fire. Ablaze with red and orange flames, it veered away from the metal mushrooms and ran back to the other side of the pit, buying her a few precious seconds to figure out what the hell she was going to do to get herself out of this mess.

Magic. The Game Architect was trying to force her to use magic. That’s why he’d sicked an elemental bull on her rather than, say, the Easter Bunny. Or Santa Claus. She’d heard both of them were total pushovers. Though rumor had it that the Tooth Fairy was a biter.

Sera could probably take down the elemental bull with magic. After all, she’d fought Kai in dragon form. But the problem with magic was it’s a two-way street. Every time she used magic, it opened a temporary hole in the shield she’d put around her mind. Most supernaturals weren’t able to take advantage of this, but a mage didn’t get to be the Game Architect by being most supernaturals. Mr. Sadistic Blackbrooke had spent decades cracking open mages’ minds. He was experienced, efficient, and just plain evil. Even a split-second hole in her mental shield would be enough for him to wiggle himself into her head.

On the other side of the pit, the bull reared, thumping its icy hooves against the half-height wood wall that surrounded the fighting area. One of the advertising banners hanging from the wall froze solid. The bull thumped it again, and the banner shattered into a million tiny icicles. Then the creature pivoted toward Sera, crunching the ice into the ground. A cloud of wintery air puffed out of its nose.

The metal mushrooms picked that moment to squirt golden liquid at Sera’s feet.

She hopped away, avoiding the lion’s share of the attack. A few yellow drops splattered her leather boots, but she escaped otherwise unscathed. Of course, her retreat put her back out in the open, well within charging distance. But it was either that or death by mushroom. Golden liquid was pouring out of the metal cylinders, drenching the sand with something that smelled an awful lot like gasoline. She hoped it wasn’t magic-infused gasoline. And that the bull didn’t run through it while it was on fire.

The bull glared at Sera, blue fire burning in its eyes. It stomped its hooves against the sand, preparing to make another pass. The icy spikes on its back shattered, and tendrils of purple-gold lightning slithered across its body.

Lightning. Earth would be next. The bull’s magic was powerful, but its elemental pattern was pretty simple. After earth would be fire. She eyed the growing puddle of gasoline. Fire. She could work with that.

As the bull kicked off into a gallop, a web of sparks pushed out from it. The lightning shockwave shot toward her, frying the air. Sera jumped out of the way, retreating to the other side of the pit. The audience booed and hissed. Still running, Sera gritted her teeth. What exactly did they expect? That she grabbed the bull with her bare hands and tossed it at the barrier?

The bull had made it to another patch of metal mushrooms. They looked dormant at the moment, but who knew how long that would last. Still sizzling with lightning, the bull kicked its back legs, spinning around. Behind the creature, its pink and purple magic crackled like electrical flowers atop the metal mushrooms. The air stank of metal and burning rocks and…earth. The bull’s element had changed again.

The ground quaking beneath her boots, Sera hopped up and grabbed the nearest advertising banner hanging from the wall. It looked highly flammable, which was pretty stupid of the organizers considering what went on in the pit. Stupid, but useful. She waved the portable fire hazard at the bull, daring it to come.

It didn’t keep her waiting long.

The bull sprinted forward. Every time its hooves hit the ground, a tremor shook the arena. Like a pounding hammer, the quakes echoed through the arena. Fissures cut across the floor, splitting it open. Sand poured down through the cracks. Somewhere across the pit, one of the wooden panels ripped off the wall and hit the dirt. The crowd, which had been so rambunctious just a minute ago, had fallen completely silent.

The bull was almost upon Sera, magic boiling in its green eyes as it rushed toward the banner she was waving. She dashed to the side, whisking the banner away. The bull smashed horns-first into the wall, knocking off a few more wood panels. Sera ran for the cluster of gasoline-gurgling metal mushrooms, zigzagging around the slippery puddles. She held the banner inside the golden geyser, drenching the cloth in gasoline.

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