Challenge: The story must involve a door in it.
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After Liam and I finish a job, escape usually isn’t hard. But we usually don’t have two angry war-witches chasing us through a maze.
Our intel had been severely off. Instead of three witches, there’d been six. Like my brother and I, they were all skilled in combat and war magic. We’d been forced to kill them in self defence, but had taken a fair amount of damage ourselves. Liam had a bloody nose and a cut on his shoulder. I had a deep gash on my eyebrow, a slash along my stomach, and a couple cracked ribs.
Things got worse when their two reinforcements showed up. I cursed our intel again as we ran. Liam was ahead of me, using the soulfire in his hand so we could see the path. It was a small spell, but it was draining his magic. I still had some, but not nearly enough.
Liam came to a fork in the path, stopping so suddenly that I nearly bowled over him. He glanced left and right. I pressed my back to his and raised my sword.
“Left door or right door,” he said. “Which did we come through?”
The war-witches turned around the corner and threw soulfire at us. I grabbed Liam and moevd back. The magic fire scorched the hedges, making a burning wall across from us.
“I’ll ask,” I muttered.
One of the war-witches charged me, his sword raised high. I blocked it and kicked at his chest. He kicked my foot away and shoved me back, slashing wildly. Our swords crossed and ducked his punch to my face. He drove his knee into my stomach and I staggered back. He swung his sword towards my throat, and Liam threw a small blast of soulfire into his face. His magic was now gone, but the war-witch was screaming and backing away down the maze.
That was when the second witch threw soulfire at Liam.
I saw it coming and got in front of Liam, raising my sword in front of my face. Reactive adaptation kicked in when the blast hit me. The flames licked across my new, magically hardened skin, leaving angry red marks and using up the rest of my magic, but it didn’t touch Liam.
The flames evaporated just in time for the witch to stab at me. I stepped aside at the last second, feeling his sword cut along my ribs. I drove my elbow into his face and slammed my forearm into his throat. I swung my fist into his head, dropping him onto the ground. Liam took his sword as I knelt down over him, pinning his arm.
“Left or right?” I asked him.
The witch glanced right quickly, then scowled. “Go to hell.”
I punched him in the face and knocked him out cold.
“Don’t we need an answer?” Liam asked.
“Right door.”
“How’d you figure that?”
I looked at the unconscious witch and shrugged. “He had a bad poker face.”
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The instructions left a lot to the imagination, so I figured an escape story was in order. :)
Amy
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