How? How? How?
The answer manifested into my hand, heavier than the stakeblade.
Blade is here.
Blade is in me.
Rather than question it, I got to stabbing. I felt it tear through the icy appendage, the stickiness falling off my face.
The frostbrood wailed.
Awesome! I’d cleaved the long thing in half, the severed part twitching at my feet.
“Pus eater! Pus eater!” The creature jumped up and down, the ice cracking beneath it.
I charged, shutting down every emotion, becoming a vessel of destruction—an executioner trick to get the job done.
Before it could take a swing at me, I stabbed it in the belly with the crystal dagger. It slid into the fucker so easily.
Wow. What the hell was this thing?
The frostbrood drew in a shocked, raspy breath, white eyes extinguishing.
“Bye,” I told it.
“Elf…will…” Its body collapsed into a pile of ice
Dead.
The dagger vanished in a puff of silver smoke.
Blade is mine…
Yeah, but how did I get it back? I waved my hand, flexed it, even tried manifesting.
Nothing happened.
Great. Anyway, time to get out of here before another frostbrood showed up to avenge the death of the pile of ice over there.
I madeit back to the edge of the nest again, a line of guardians there.
“Elf will pay!”
Ah, the icy avenger. Cue another appendage around my neck.
The guardians unleashed a tirade of breaker bullets. The frosty prick released me and tried running, but the onslaught broke it apart, leaving it a pile of ice in less than a minute.
Phew!
A guardian helped me to my feet, throwing my arm around his shoulder. “You good?”
“I’m sweetcream,” I rasped, rubbing at the tender skin.
“You’re what?”
“I’m okay.”
“How? I saw it drag you into the building. You should be dead.”
