The shield broke as something penetrated it.
“Die!” Altair screamed, throwing himself at the demon, even as lightning shot from every angle into his body, until he practically glowed beneath the skin.
Ashley screamed as the creatures came in and took her down. Christine whirled, trying to stop them. A blade of blue extended from her staff, slicing them in half.
Her world went dark as something hit her from behind, and she realized she’d been “killed”.
She heard shouting, listening to Gardener take charge, pulling what was left of her team back, fending off the creatures as she went.
That should be me, Christine thought with a savage snarl.
The simulation died, revealing the huge domed arena. Instantly, she was on her feet, heading toward Altair who was picking himself up from the ground fifty feet away. Christine was going to tear a strip off him so deep he’d be feeling it for days.
How dare he do something so stupid, foolish and selfish! That was twice now that he’d screwed up so badly, she’d been forced to watch as someone else took charge of her team and got them out of a situation he created. A team that she wants, but that he was wrecking for her. He, him. Altair. Nobody else. It was his fault, and he was going to hear about it. He was done. Done!
“What was that all about?”
Christine came to a halt as Master Pinton stormed out of the wings, eyes filled with anger.
“What do you mean?” she asked, stunned at the Master’s tone. “You saw what happened, he—”
“I saw the team commander lose control of her team at the critical moment of a battle,” Pinton said sternly. “That’s what I saw.”
“But Altair!” she tried to protest. Master Pinton’s wand swung viciously through the air, silencing her.
“I don’t care about Altair-this, Altair-that. You are in charge, Apprentice Sinnclare. Or you were, until that shit-show.”
The uncharacteristic curse from the normally restrained Master caught Christine by total surprise. Why was she so mad at Christine? It wasn’t her fault! She’d been ready to kick her team into gear, to defeat the thing and move on, until Altair had decided out of nowhere to go all solo on them.
She stood still, bristling at the dressing down she was receiving from the Master.
“Circe told me you came to her, told her you wanted this team,” Master Pinton said at the end. “If you want it, you’re going to have to take it. This isn’t good enough.”
Then she was gone.
Christine shivered in anger, looking around the arena for Altair. He was gone though, having disappeared at some point while Pinton was laying into her.
You’re not getting away that easily dragon-boy. Oh no, not that easily at all!
She stormed from the room, intent on finding him and giving him a piece of her mind.
Chapter Thirteen
Altair
HE WAS BENT OVER THE desk, nose buried deep in a book that smelled of dust and old paper when he heard the angry intake of air through nostrils. Glancing up, he locked eyes with Christine.
Here it comes.
It was no surprise to him that she was here to ream him out. Altair was pissed at himself, so he expected no less from her. After all, it was his fault that the others had died.
“Is this where you’ve run off to?” she hissed, keeping her voice low, but not holding back any anger.
“I did not run off,” he said, frowning in confusion. Was she accusing him of cowardice? He had done no such thing at all!
“Really? Because as soon as the simulation ended, you were nowhere to be found, despite that shitshow back there being entirely your fault. To me, that looks a lot like running away, unable to face your failure.”
Altair shook his head. “No, you’ve got it wrong, Christine. I wasn’t running away.”
Not this time.
“Well then, please, enlighten me,” she drawled, her words covered in sarcasm as she crossed her arms over her chest. “This oughta be good.”
“You’re right,” he said.
Christine blinked. “I know I am. But...” she shook her head. “So, you admit it?”
“Yes,” he said plainly. “I do. It was my fault.”
“Right.” She nodded. “Good. I’m glad you know it. Don’t let it happen again then.”
He pointed at the books in front of him. “I won’t, I promise. That’s why I’m here. I’ve pulled every book I could find, going all the way back. I’m going to read every line in them, every account, every history of events. Whatever it takes, I’ll find the answer. I’m not going to fail anyone again. I won’t make the same mistake. Next time, you’ll all survive. I promise.”
Christine was about to leave, but something in his words slowed her, had her turning back to face him. “You won’t make the same mistake again? We’ll all survive. What are you reading here?” She leaned over the desk to take a look at the book titles.
“Yes,” he said. “You see, I thought I had it right. I thought I understood what Master Erlinger did. I thought it was all about energy. That if enough of it was unleashed from contact with the demon, it would breach its defenses and cast it back to the Abyss. But that obviously was not the case. There is something else that Master Erlinger must have done to ensure that the demon did not survive, that sent Berith back to the Abyss. I’m not sure what, but I’m going to find it, and when I do then I can test...” he trailed off, noticing that she was staring at him now, her mouth hanging open slightly.
“Is something wrong?” he asked half a minute later when Christine still hadn’t spoken.
The witch cleared her throat and gave her head a shake, the usual ponytail she kept it in shaking wildly from the movement. “Let me get this right. Do you think I’m mad at you because your attack today didn’t succeed?”
Altair nodded slowly. “Yesss. I mean, why
