Firelight’s good, very effective, Simon thought, dodging one of the many, many holes in the stony floor. But we’ll need at least one more light so watchers can see people’s faces. I hate Hollywood’s trend toward Darker and Edgier- wait. This is real?
A little hard not to! Simon shot back, cutlass braced against a scorpion claw before he twisted sideways and under the stinger-strike. He’d fought the monsters in Baal’s dungeon, but he’d known the Djinn didn’t want him dead. These twisted monstrosities lived and breathed pain, and there was no way he was fast enough, skilled enough-
Ja’far’s Vessel shocked the not-scorpion into a smoldering heap, his own lightning strike took out something with membraned wings before it could stoop, and….
Quiet, except for harsh breathing, and the crackle of flames.
“I think we got them,” Tiburon managed, still breathing hard. “Malachy?”
Red hair tilted. “Nothing moving but us.” The Fanalis snorted, as if to clear out the stench of the last thing he’d punched, and grabbed Morgan up in a fierce hug. “Next time, call before the airport.”
“Uncle.” She hugged him back. “We found Maria. She’s outside.”