I, Irregular

Dryads

I don't make it very far before they catch me, halfway between the market and Rios.

"It was you," the boy yells over the cascading rain. Fom. "Why didn't you tell us?"

The girl, Shibta, moves closer to me. I step back, warning bells deafening in my ears. They aren't shielding their magic now, and they aren't shielding their thoughts.

She looks half crazed, the girl thinks. Poor thing.

She is incredibly powerful, the boy thinks. More so than we thought. We have to retrieve her.

My eyes narrow.

The girl sees my actions before I perform them. "Wait!" She shouts through the rain. But I am already constructing the barrier in my mind and running as they try to get through.

They must not catch me.

For once I don't count as I make my way down the market street. I set my magic free, allowing it to keep guard as I run. I reach my bed of seven months and find them there, waiting. "Please, we don't want to hurt you!" The girl calls. "We just want to help you."

"I don't need your help!" I call back. "I've been doing fine on my own. Leave!"

"You aren't fine!" The boy insists. "You pushing back your magic is only hurting you. You can't ignore it, you have to control it."

I raise my head and meet his eyes. "My magic and I are fine. Leave me alone!"

A wretched screech echoes thorough the air above us. We all look up at once, and I at least am surprised at what I see. Seven people are on the roof of the bar, their skin as green as summer leaves. Their teeth are pointed daggers, and in their hands are thick whips made from vines.

Oh gods, the girl thinks. I've never fought dryads before! Outside, she shows no panic or fear; just foolhardy determination and adoration for the boy next to her.

The boy jogs to me, still keeping a safe distance away. "Your name is Naja, right?" I nod. "Naja, stay behind me. We'll handle this, okay?" I only stare at him blankly. Her magic is taking a toll on her, he thinks. She could be killed.

The he shoves me towards the wall as the nymphs descend.

They each pull a crystal out of their pockets, and without a word they form into sharp swords. The dryads hiss, recoil, then continue towards us. There are seven of them, against what everyone seems to think is two. They can only win this fight if they are willing to sustain serious injury in the process.

I study them as they fight, both the dryads and the nephadsvari. I watch their feet, the way they move, which limbs they favor. It will all come to benefit.

After about five minutes, there's still three dryads left and the nephadsvari look completely exhausted. One of them looks at me, and before it can take a step, a spear of magic imbeds itself in the dryad's chest.

Everyone looks at me. Without blinking, I do it twice more, to the dryads.

"I have this under control," I say. "Leave."

A wave of dizziness sweeps over me. I brace my hand against the alley wall and focus my ears on the relentless rain. Thunder cracks above and echoes through the air, making me cringe.

One, two, three, four.

My magic has been desperate for escape for so long, and now that I've used it my body is drained and shutting down right in front of these people. I squeeze my eyes shut at the pain that pierces my skull and take a deep breath, but my lungs are tight so the sound I make is a dry wheeze that has the two nephadsvari advancing towards me. But I hold up my hand and they stop, concern clear as they tuck their tiny crystals away.

Five, six, seven.

My mouth overfills with saliva, and it's all I can do to gather my wet hair behind me before I expel my stomach all over the concrete in a colorful display of orange and stomach acid.

Eight, nine.

I stumble away from the mess when my vision escapes me. I don't see black, like everyone thinks; I see grey and pink and green, clouding the view, until I see nothing at all. That is when I lose feeling in my legs, and fall to the ground. Sound goes next, floating away like a whisper on the wind. Then I don't feel the wet cement under me. Then, I'm unconscious.

Ten.