All That Lives Must Die - Eric Nylund [142]
Eliot started to protest.
But Van Wyck and the others charged.
Robert rushed to meet them. Fiona was right behind him. Jeremy, however, hesitated, and slinked to the edge of the runway.
Robert leaped, hitting Van Wyck and two other boys. They all went down in a heap of arms and legs. Eliot caught a glint of brass held in Robert’s hands as he punched one boy so hard, he broke the boards of the runway underneath.
Fiona skidded to a halt, both fists held out before her—her rubber band stretched between them.
Two girls and one boy stopped before her, confused, not knowing how to approach without getting cut.
Jeremy, meanwhile, touched the seasoned wood of the runway. The outer boards creaked and groaned and split away—the braces and supports beneath extending shakily outward along with them.
He turned and winked at them. Then, laughing, he jumped in the melee pile with Robert.
“Go!” Sarah urged. “He’s made a way around.”
Eliot jumped to the extended path. It was only a foot wide, and shuddered under his weight.
He held out his hands to Amanda (making sure he was braced).
She gulped, but jumped into his arms.
Mitch and Sarah leaped onto the boards as well, and they all ran past the fight.
A boy from Green Dragon pulled free of Jeremy’s grasp, whirled, and jumped into Eliot’s way.
The boy teetered, slightly off balance. He was twice Eliot’s size.
Eliot made a fist . . . shifted his center of gravity lower and hammered his fist upward, using his leg muscles to add to the force.
He felt the bone in the boy’s jaw crack.
The boy toppled, dazed, but managed to grab the edges of the board.
Eliot leaped over him and kept moving—
—until the entire jungle gym wrenched to the right.
Eliot dropped to all fours to keep from falling off.
Amanda toppled, but Eliot’s hand shot out and grabbed her.
The combat form of Jezebel crashed into the structure, snapping platforms, chain link, and oak support beams. One snowy white bat wing was on fire; the other bent and broken. In either massive taloned hand wriggled a member of Team Wolf, screaming as if their souls were being ripped from their flesh.
Two other opponents clung to Jezebel’s back. They blasted her with lightning, leaving craters of smoldering blackened flesh. Arcs of electricity played along her spine.
She stumbled, shattering the corner of the jungle gym to splinters.
The back part of the runway broke.
Eliot rocked forward. With one hand he gripped the plank; with the other he held on to Amanda, and they both stayed on.
Jezebel roared and tumbled to the ground.
Eliot felt his stomach fall with her. His fear and dread crystallized into raw determination, however. Eliot stood, pulling Amanda up with him. There was nothing he could do for Jezebel now except end this by winning.
He ran.
Sarah and Mitch followed his cue and they raced for the stairs.
Behind them, Van Wyck shouted, “Stop them. Quick, you fools!”
Eliot mounted the wrought iron staircase, circling up and around the spiral, practically dragging Amanda behind him.
He emerged on the top of the gym. Clouds raced alongside him. Hurricane winds whipped about and stung his eyes.
He spotted their flag—a fluttering black length and a flash of scarab gold.
Eliot ran for it . . . and with an outstretched hand, grabbed a fistful of silk.
So did Amanda. She shouted a primal victory scream.
Mitch and Sarah crashed into them, not bothering to slow down, grasping the flag as well.
A gunshot rang out.
The winds ceased.
The shuddering jungle gym stilled.
Van Wyck scrambled up the stairs and stopped. Rage colored his face as he saw them and realized that against all odds, Team Scarab had not only survived his cheating two-against-one grudge match . . . but they’d won.
41
EXPELLED
Fiona stood on the field of the Ludus Magnus with Team Scarab. She shifted nervously. This wasn’t over yet.
Everyone on her team had made it . . . well, except Jezebel, who lay on a stretcher ten paces away, being treated by Mr. Ma.
The instant she’d seen Mr. Ma, Fiona suspected he had let