The Slayer and the Sphinx

Chapter Forty Five

"Give me my sword," Other Porter whispered.

"What?" Porter shot him a sharp glance. "Why would I—"

"We'll stand a better chance of beating him together."

"Oh, so now you suddenly want to team up?"

"Do you want Sarah to die here?"

Porter paused and, reluctantly, turned Other Porter's sword around so the hilt was pointing towards him.

"If you try anything..." he warned him.

Other Porter grabbed the weapon and stood up. "I hate you, but I hate him even more."

The clone turned to face the Master Slayer, and Mortoph looked at them in amusement.

"Do you think taking me on two to one will make a difference?" he laughed.

"Three to one," Azkular corrected him, hopping up to stand beside Porter. His knives appeared in his hands in a flash of blue.

Mortoph snorted. "Two children and a crippled djinn."

"And me," Faska added, coming to stand beside Azkular, brandishing his staff at the Master Slayer.

"Me too, I guess," Ozzie said, joining them as well.

Mortoph scowled. "Another traitor..."

"Can it," the Asian boy snapped. "Porter's not the only one you've been lying to."

"That's five of us against one of you, Mortoph," Porter said.

"Six," Sarah said, and Porter looked to see her standing on his other side, crouched low in a pouncing position and her claws digging into the soft earth.

"Sarah, no! You'll—"

"Porter, I love you," she said without taking her eyes off Mortoph. "That's why I'm not going to let you do this yourself."

"But..."

"We'll take him down together and end this tonight!" she insisted.

"You and Sarah, together, are the key to ending the war," Lowatai's voice echoed in his head. Together...

You'd better be right about this, Lowatai, he thought.

"Fine," he said out loud. "Six of us. How do you feel about those odds, Mortoph?"

Mortoph glowered at him, and then burst out laughing. "All right, then," he agreed. "Have it your way!"

He thrust his empty hand out toward them, and a wall of invisible force slammed into them. All six fighters were thrown off their feet, flying backwards in a straight line until they came crashing down onto the forest floor ten feet away.

Porter put a hand on the ground under him to push himself up, but then a shadow appeared in front of him, blocking out the moonlight. He could just make out the Master Slayer's sword as he raised it above his head, ready to cleave Porter clean in half.

"Die!" he roared, and swung.

Porter flinched, and because of that he didn't see the massive axe appear out of nowhere in front of him. Mortoph's sword collided with it, letting out a clang so loud that Porter felt it in his bones. His eyes shot open, and...

"Droma!" he exclaimed.

The Soul Smith stood over him, but wasn't able to reply. He gripped the axe, which was bigger than Porter was, with both hands, struggling with all his might to keep the Master Slayer's sword from touching him. Porter's brain finally caught up with what he was seeing, and he rolled out of the way. With one last grunt of exertion, Droma let the axe vanish and backed away, out of Mortoph's reach.