Chapter Twenty Two

  Miranda’s eyes flicked nervously between Isaac and his five clones, her body wound as tightly as a spring as she waited for whatever was going to happen next.

  Six Isaacs. One Miranda. The only silver lining was that by splitting his focus between six bodies, Isaac's hand to hand combat would suffer, greatly increasing Miranda's chances of making it through this.

  She hoped…

  “What’s wrong, Miranda?” one of the clones asked.

  Another chimed in, “Where did all that confidence go?”

  Miranda felt her hackles rise as the jab, but she forced herself to let it go. This was proving to be a tough enough fight without letting her temper fly off the handle. What she needed to be asking herself was, how on Nyr was she going to take on six opponents at the same time? She had faced worse odds than this dozens of times, but nearly every one of those occasions had been against brainless mobs.

  That couldn’t have been farther from the truth here. Isaac Cain was quick, he was strong, and he was smart—at least when he had someone else’s ghost powering him up. Going one on one against him had left her with a not-insubstantial chunk of her HP gone, while whatever restoration spell he was using had already brought him back to full health.

  She hated to admit it, but fighting him like this would be stupidly reckless, even for her. What other option did she have, though? Turn tail and leave Derrick like this?

  She raised her daggers, gritting her teeth in frustration. Without a way to nullify his spell short of killing him or knocking him out, all she could do was to try and separate each clone from the group and fight it one on one. The chances of Isaac letting that happen were virtually zero, and she would be helpless if his clones decided to rush her all at once.

  Miranda paused, cocking her head.

  Come to think of it, why hadn't they already rushed her?

  All six Isaacs were lined up at the edge of the stream, each of them clutching their staffs in identical white knuckled grips. Their eyes were trained on her, practically glowing with the need to feed the little creek with her blood. And yet, none of them took a single step past the…

  Miranda blinked in surprise, and her mouth quirked up into a bemused smirk.

  “Your clones can’t leave the water, can they?” she asked.

  The Isaacs didn’t answer, but as one they gave her a dark, hate-filled glare. Miranda’s smirk turned into a grin, and she couldn’t stop herself from bursting into incredulous laughter.

  “You’re kidding me!” she exclaimed. “Did you think this through at all? Or were you just imagining how cool it would look when five copies of yourself climbed out of the water?”

  Isaac’s expression grew darker with every word that came out of her mouth, but Miranda just shook her head and walked over to where Derrick was still standing, inanimate and inorganic.

  She watched the Isaacs from the corner of her eye the entire time, refusing to let her guard down. She wasn’t stupid enough to think she had actually beaten him. Even if he really was confined to the creek, she could think of a dozen things he could still do to her off the top of her head—the simplest of which was to abandon his clones and attack her directly again.

  And yet, as she drew close to her former friend, the Tidestriker and his watery dopplegangers just stood there, glowering at her like a group of petulant children. In fact, it kind of reminded her of the way the boys back in elementary school had sulked when she’d kicked their butts in gym class.

  Reaching Derrick, she opened her inventory and scrolled until she found the antidote. While petrification potions were as black as a cave on a moonless night, the cure was as white as freshly fallen snow.

  Putting Midnight Frost away, she selected the antidote, and it appeared in her hand with a flash of blue. Then, giving Isaac one last smug look, she raised the bottle to shatter it against Derrick’s—

  “Go ahead.”

  Miranda froze, the pit in her stomach opening up again. Her first instinct was to ignore him and cure her friend anyway. She had beaten him. This was just a last ditch attempt to mess with her head.

  Except, she hadn’t beaten him. He had just…stopped fighting.

  Even now, Isaac and his clones were gathered on the edge of the creek. Derrick was poised with one foot in the water, and one foot on the shore, so by getting this close to him, Miranda had put herself in a position where Isaac could easily have reached out and touched her. And yet, the clones remained where they were, watching her with eyes as cold and sharp as her black dagger.

  And that, she decided, was the scariest thing he could have possibly done.

  Miranda lowered the potion, turning to look suspiciously at the Deathgate Shaman. “Okay, I’ll bite. What kind of horrible thing are you going to do to me when I cure him?”

  A smirk rose to the Isaacs’ faces that sent shivers down her spine. “To you? Nothing.”

  “Then—”

  “But I’m going to grab him by the leg and drag him underwater.”

  Miranda’s eyes widened, and she looked down at Derrick’s feet. Sure enough, while she had been talking to Isaac, a tendril of water had risen from the stream and wrapped itself around the statue's leg. It wasn’t solid the way his clones were, but she didn’t doubt for a second that it had a grip as strong as iron.

  “Can an Yggdrasian drown?” he asked musingly, as if he were genuinely curious. “Or is that something you need lungs for? Even if they can’t, I can use the water to keep him completely immobile, like a liquid coffin. And then…”

  This time, it was Miranda’s turn to glower at him. Isaac shrugged nonchalantly.

  “To be honest, I haven’t decided yet. Maybe I’ll summon a dozen blades of ice and turn him into mulch. Maybe my clones and I will beat him like a pinata until something comes out. Or maybe—”

  “I get it!” Miranda snapped. “What do you want, then?”

  He shrugged again, but that sadistic gleam was back in his eyes. “I think you already know. It’s impolite to leave things half—”

  “Silverwing!”

  The world around Miranda turned silver for half a second, and then Isaac reappeared directly in front of her. She swung her left arm out, the white potion being replaced by Midnight Frost so quickly that the two blue flashes appeared to only be one.

  The Tidestriker’s plan was so obvious that she didn't need Detect Traps to see it coming from a mile away. This was exactly where Isaac wanted her, knee deep in the source of his power. She was a mouse who had jumped into the lion's mouth because it had dared her to, and now her only chance of survival was to attack as quickly as she could and end the fight before it truly began.

  To her own disbelief, it worked. Isaac flinched when she appeared right in front of him, and that moment of hesitation was all the opportunity she needed. He tried to raise his staff, but by that time, Midnight Frost was already slashing its way across his throat. His flesh parted easily, almost as if she were cutting…

  Ashes!

  “Freeze!”

  She tried to leap backwards, but the water around her ankles had already solidified, trapping her in place like a spider in a glue trap. In front of her, the Isaac she had cut lost his shape, instantly becoming water and splashing noisily back down into the stream that had birthed him.

  “Wavestrike!” came the voice from behind her.

  Miranda swore under her breath as the water began to recede again, and did her best to wrench her legs free of the ice. All she got for her effort was a flash of pain when she nearly dislocated her ankles.

  The sound of roaring water filled the air, and Miranda threw Eagle Feather straight upwards.

  “Silverwing!”

  She reappeared thirty feet above the creek just as the wave collided with the block of ice she had been stuck in, shattering it into a thousand pieces.

  Flaming slur! she thought, watching as the little shards of ice were washed downstream. That was too close!

  “Winter’s Teeth!”

  Miranda grunted in annoyance when the water directly beneath her erupted into a bed of upside down icicles. Four Isaacs were gathered around the edges, their staffs at the ready, and…

  Wait. Four?

  There! She spotted the fifth one standing apart from the others. He’d obviously assumed she would be too busy reacting to his trap to notice, but Miranda hadn’t gotten to where she was without learning how to spot things that the normal eye would have passed right over.

  With only a few scant inches between her and the icicles, Miranda hurled Eagle Feather and shouted, “Silverwing!”

  The world turned silver, and she reappeared directly in front of the Isaac she had spotted. There was only one reason this particular Isaac would hang back while the others went to do his dirty work. He had fooled her once, but this time…

  She rammed both daggers into his chest, and the clone melted back into the creek.

  “Freeze!”

  “Silverwing!”

  The Faun materialized in the air again, and this time let the dagger’s momentum carry her across the creek, right over the remaining Isaacs’ heads.

  That sneaky little slur had tricked her again! By keeping one of his clones out of the fight, knowing that she would assume it was the real Isaac, he had baited her into the perfect place for an ambush. If she hadn’t had such inhuman reflexes, that would have been the end of her right there.

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  She landed directly behind one of the remaining four Isaacs. She didn’t know if this was the real one, and she no longer cared. He had fooled her twice now, and that was something she couldn’t let go unpunished.

  “I am the Thief here!” she yelled at the back of his head. He whirled around, his staff extended, but she merely tossed Eagle Feather lightly over his shoulder. “Silverwing!”

  She reappeared behind him and stabbed him right in the spine, causing him to dissolve back into the stream.

  “You are nothing but a miserable parasite who can’t do a flaming thing on his own!”

  “Piercing Ice!”

  She ducked as a flurry of icy needles flew above her head, and then spun with her leg extended, kicking the legs out of the two Isaacs who were rushing at her from opposite sides.

  Her theory that Isaac's attention was being split between them was proven right when one of the clones drove his staff into the mud beneath the creek to keep his balance, while the other plunged face first into the water. Having to react so quickly, he had only been able to spare the focus needed to keep one of them on their feet.

  The Isaac who was still standing wrenched his staff from the mud and swung it at her. Miranda blocked with Midnight Frost, knocking the attack aside and sending the Tidestriker stumbling backwards.

  FAIL

  “Disorient!” she yelled, whirling around as the second Isaac scrambled back to his feet and came at her from behind. He ducked beneath the hasty attack, but in the split second when her cloak flared out around her, there was a brief flash of blue.

  Recovering quickly, the first Isaac struck at her again. Miranda leaned out of the way, the staff passing so close to her head that the wind it created blew her hair back. Doing that let her glance behind him, confirming her suspicions. One of the clones was hanging back from the fight again.

  She scowled at the Shaman. Did he really think she was going to fall for that a third time? Then again, she wouldn’t have been surprised if it actually was him, switching things up right when she thought she’d figured him out.

  Reflexively, she shot a glance at Derrick. He hadn’t moved an inch, but at least Isaac had kept his promise about not harming him so far. In fact, the clone she had just noticed hanging back was standing almost directly between her and her petrified friend.

  “Piercing Ice!” One of the clones swung his staff at her, and a wave surged up in front of him.

  Miranda prepared to leap over it, but before she could even bend her knees, the entire thing froze solid. Then, with a crack, it shattered, sending a barrage of icy blades flying toward her.

  “Silverwing!” she yelled, throwing Eagle Feather straight at the oncoming attack.

  The silver dagger flew neatly in between the shards of ice, and Miranda reappeared on the other side, only a couple feet away from Isaac. The Deathgate Shaman’s eyes widened as her blade came for his throat.

  “Aquatic Substitution!” he shouted, and Miranda bit back a curse when she found herself cutting through another collapsing pillar of water.

  A few yards behind her, Isaac burst up from the surface of the creek. Miranda’s eyes narrowed. Did the fact that he’d gone to the effort to save that particular clone mean that it wasn’t actually a clone at all? Or was he just stringing her along again?

  Movement came from the side, and she spun around just in time to see the second Isaac raising his staff.

  “Freeze!” he declared, but this time she was a step ahead of him.

  She sprang up out of the stream, and heard the soft crackling as the water froze beneath her. Her supernatural balance let her land on the tiny island of ice without slipping, and she threw herself toward the clone who had just attacked her.

  Eagle Feather swept out in a lightning fast arc, embedding itself in the Tiderstriker’s staff once again.

  “You said I was selfish for trying to clean up my messes,” she growled as they both fought to push the other backwards.

  The clone who had been held back pointed his staff at her. “Wavestrike!”

  “Aquatic Substitution!” the one in front of her said at the same time.

  The Isaac she was struggling against melted away, and Miranda flung herself to the side just as the wave streaked past, only to find herself with a clone on either side of her. They both swung their staffs simultaneously, one aiming at her head and the other at her legs.

  Moving with the grace and speed that only a Faun and a Cat Burglar together could achieve, she sprang up into the air, letting the lower strike pass harmlessly beneath her and landing on top of the upper staff. Her hooves made a sharp clack against the wood, but it didn’t cover the now-familiar crackle of freezing water behind her.

  She jumped again, using the staff as a springboard just as the Isaac behind her thrust out with his staff. An icicle jutted from its tip, turning it into a rudimentary spear.

  Miranda curled into a backflip and, fixing her eyes on the clone in the background, hurled the contents of her left hand at him. He dodged smoothly out of the way just as she splashed down into the stream again, her attack flying straight past him and into the night.

  “But at least I’m doing something,” she continued, “instead whatever cowardly ash this is!”

  “Wavestrike!”

  Miranda threw Eagle Feather into the air. “Silver—”

  Crack!

  Pain flashed through Miranda’s skull, and suddenly it was all she could do to stay on her hooves.

  The clone who had hit her lowered his staff, a patch of blood staining the end, just as Eagle Feather plunked uselessly into the stream twenty feet away. She reached out, ready to dive after it, only for something to slam into her from behind with the force of a truck.

  The wave knocked her clean off her hooves, engulfing her in its watery grasp and sending her flipping and spinning with the current, completely out of her own control. Blinded, cut off from oxygen, she had no choice but to let it carry her downstream until its power ran out.

  Just as her lungs were beginning to burn, her head finally broke the surface. Gulping down a lungful of air, she shook the hair out her eyes and looked around. To her surprise, she found that she was only about thirty feet farther downstream from where she’d started. After all that, it felt like she should have been halfway back to Faen’s Hand.

  In the corner of her eye, her health bar was blinking, having skipped the yellow middle phase and gone straight down into the red. Coughing and hacking, she tried to stand up—

  Only to be knocked back down by a savage blow across her back.

  She cried out, a jet of bubbles erupting from her mouth. With her spine feeling like it had been broken in half, she forced herself upright again—and her heart sank into her stomach when she saw all three Isaacs standing over her, staffs clutched in their fists and wicked grins on their faces.

  “You call it cowardice,” the one on her left said.

  “I call it winning in the most efficient way possible,” the one on her right concluded.

  Where is he? Miranda thought, her eyes anxiously flicking from one Isaac to another.

  The Isaac in the center raised his staff and brought it down in a two-handed strike. Reacting quickly, Miranda summoned Midnight Frost back to her left hand and deflected the attack.

  FAIL

  “Oh, come on!” she screamed. One in ten chance, her hoof!

  Her leg shot out, kicking the Isaac on her right in the gut, and he grunted and doubled over in pain. Did that mean he was the real one, or did his clones just react to nonlethal blows like they were real?

  She didn’t have time to find out while the other two were still on their feet. Springing back to her hooves, she switched Midnight Frost to her right hand and swung it at the Isaac in front of her. To her surprise, he stepped forward into her attack, putting them so close together that when Midnight Frost connected, Miranda’s hand sank into his body as he turned back into water.

  “Freeze!”

  Miranda gasped, understanding dawning on her, but it was too late. The half-melted Isaac promptly turned into a pillar of ice, with her hand stuck firmly inside.

  The two remaining Isaacs approached her from behind. With her heart beating in her ears, Miranda sent Midnight Frost back into her inventory, then resummoned it into her left hand. She swung at the first Isaac that came within reach, but he raised his staff to block the attack while the other stepped in close. Before she could react, he grabbed her by the wrist and gave it a cruel twist.

  Miranda fought not to scream as pain lanced up and down her arm. Isaac didn’t manage to break anything, but she was still forced to let go of her weapon. Midnight Frost fell from limp fingers to lie uselessly at the bottom of the stream.

  “You slur!” she spat, kicking at him again. Isaac sidestepped the desperate attack with a derisive laugh.

  Miranda’s mind raced. She was unarmed, immobilized, and standing in the middle of a stream while fighting a water mage. This was, quite literally, the worst possible situation she could have found herself in. If she’d had Eagle Feather, she could have teleported away, but by separating her from the silver dagger, Isaac had expertly cut her off from her primary form of offense and defense.

  She gave her hand an experimental tug, but the ice held fast. Her arm may as well have been trapped in solid stone. All she could do was watch helplessly as the two remaining Isaacs stepped up to her, casually twirling their staffs as if they were just out to get the mail.

  “Remember,” one of them said, “Captain McLane wants her alive, so we can’t kill her.”

  “We can still bring her down to one HP, though, can’t we?” asked the other.

  The first one grinned. “Oh, absolutely.”

  Miranda glared at them, but the fight in her was slowly leaking away. She couldn’t deny it any longer. Even with one hand free, there was nothing else she could do. She was beaten.

  Poor Jeremy, she thought, fighting not to let the pain show on her face. What’s he going to think when he wakes up tomorrow and I’m not there?

  The Isaacs raised their staffs in perfect unison. Miranda fixed them with as cold of a stare as she could muster. Isaac might have beaten her, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her give in to despair. She would look him in the eye until the moment she passed out from—

  THWAPTHWAP!

  Both Isaacs suddenly went stiff, their eyes wide. Something dark burst out of the one on the left, and he promptly dissolved back into the stream. The one that was left—the one Miranda had kicked in the stomach—cried out in pain and clutched his arm.

  Miranda blinked in surprise as blood began to pour from his arm and down into the stream. There was something poking out of his skin, just below the shoulder.

  A black iron shuriken.

  Isaac whirled around to face where the attack had come from, but he wasn’t fast enough to react to the smoke bomb that came streaking out of the darkness. It hit him in the chest, spilling inky black smoke out into the air just like it had done to Miles earlier that same day.

  With an almost animalistic growl, Isaac blindly pointed his staff in the direction the barrage was coming from—and as soon as his back was turned, Miranda lunged for him!

  She grunted in disappointment. She had meant to wrap her arm around his neck, or at the very least grab his hair. The Deathgate Shaman was standing just an inch farther away than she’d thought, though, and instead she found her fingertips hovering less than an inch behind his back.

  So she did the only other thing she could do, and activated Pickpocket.

  +1 SCROLL OF EARLY GRAVE

  “Wave…hey!” Isaac yelled. He began to turn around, only for two more shurikens to come whistling out of the night and bury themselves in both of his shoulders. His health bar fell, only to immediately begin ticking upwards again. Looking like a demented pincushion, he whirled to face forward, and thrust his staff out toward the darkness. “Wavestrike!”

  As the wave shot off into the darkness, Miranda’s eyes widened when she realized what she had in her hand. Early Grave was one of the nastiest spells she could think of. Normally it would have been way beyond her skill to cast, but with this one being on a scroll…

  She summoned it to her hand, and Isaac spun to face her. She couldn’t see his face behind the cloud of smoke, but she could read terror in his posture. He knew what she had done, and what she was planning to do next.

  Miranda took a deep breath. “Early—”

  “Aquatic Substitution!”

  Water splashed back into the stream, and a moment later the familiar blue-white light of an Orb of Retreat illuminated the forest. Miranda craned her neck around—it was coming from a spot where she couldn’t easily see—and just barely caught a glimpse of the Deathgate Shamas vanishing in a cloud of luminescent smoke.

  Miranda let out a heavy sigh of relief, sending the scroll back to her inventory and falling to her knees. She had survived, but…ashes and flame, that had been too close! Even the fight against Visantii hadn’t cut things so close to the wire. If she hadn’t gotten help at the last second, she had no doubt in her mind that she would be unconscious and on her way back to Sequestrinous right then.

  And speaking of help…

  She looked up as a series of splashes came from the darkness. A thin, tall figure came into view, a slingshot in one hand and a cold glare in his green and amber eyes. Miranda fought the urge to cringe like a misbehaving dog whose owner was brandishing a newspaper.

  It wasn’t easy. Not with the hurricane of guilt and shame that suddenly spawned inside her chest.

  With far more effort than it should have taken, she forced herself to smirk up at Derrick.

  “What took you so long?”