Combatant: The Revelations of Oriceran (The Kacy Chronicles Book 3) by A.L. Knorr & Martha Carr & Michael Anderle

Author:A.L. Knorr & Martha Carr & Michael Anderle [Knorr, A.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: LMBPN Publishing
Published: 2017-12-23T16:00:00+00:00

***

The harpy's chest bristled with no less than three of Jordan's knives, and still it danced with her in the air over an unconscious Arpak's body.

Even after that ear-shaking croak, when all the other harpies had begun to pull away, her opponent had remained doggedly on the attack. Jordan then realized that there would be no reprieve, no quarter, no ‘okay call it a game’ when everybody goes home. At the end of this, one of them would win and the other would die.

Her efforts to put a knife in the harpy's heart had so far failed. Jordan was tiring, and her aim was suffering. She sank another badly-aimed blade just to buy herself more time. She needed this fight to be over. She took a breath as she wheeled in a wide loop. The harpy banked after her, oblivious to the blades in the thick feathers of her chest. What is beneath those feathers? Dragon scales?

Jordan heard Toth's voice in her mind. Stop trying for the killshot. Cripple her.

Genius and desperation working in concert. Jordan spun to face the harpy. Feeling the cast of the knife flow down her shoulder, through her arm, and off her fingertips, she sent the little wasp of steel zipping into the nook where the harpy's shoulder became its wing. Inaudibly, it stuck fast in the joint. The harpy's wing seized, and she dipped inexorably toward the ground. The beast raged and hissed, but she could not will her wing to beat around the metal lodged in her shoulder.

Jordan followed the harpy down, sinking another knife into the base of the creature's neck, hindering her ability to move that lethal head, like a wedge in a door. She hit the ground with a hopping skid that morphed into a face-first plop. Feathers went flying.

Jordan would have whooped with relief had she not spied how close they had landed to the wounded Arpak, who was on the ground in an unconscious heap. He seemed dead, until Jordan got close enough to see his wings quiver.

The harpy, as spiteful as any member of her species, spied her original victim as well. In a clumsy, clawing rake of talons and stiff joints, she dragged herself toward the injured Arpak. Her movements were piteous, stupid.

"You've got to be kidding me," Jordan cried. "You're like a horror movie monster! Worse! Die already!"

Tucking her wings, Jordan plummeted on an interception course. The dirks that lived on her back came into each hand. Wind whistled through her hair as she sliced open a single, wide wound across the harpy's withers. Another poorly aimed strike. Exhaustion was stealing all of her hard-earned technique. She heard the harpy’s beak snap shut as she landed between it and the wounded warrior.

Jordan took a fighting stance and met the harpy's baleful glare. Surely she’s nearly finished? Pained and enraged, the harpy came on in a staggering charge, telegraphing her confusion in a crooked path.

The beast closed in, making to snap at Jordan, but the metal thorn in her neck made her recoil in sudden pain.

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