Meg - Stabbed in Leg

uld just throw a huge dual-sword-wielding warrior off the roof.

I staggered forward.

Lu thrust with her left blade, stabbing Meg in the thigh. Meg yelped and stumbled, crossing her swords just in time to catch Lu’s next strike, which would have cleaved her head in two.

Wait a second. This fight couldn’t be an act. Pure rage lit the Gaul’s eyes.

Lu had deceived us, and Meg was in real danger.

Fury swelled inside me. A flood of heat burned away the haze and filled me with godly power. I bellowed like one of Poseidon’s sacred bulls at the altar. (And let me tell you, those bulls did not go gently to the slaughter.) I barreled toward Luguselwa, who turned, wide-eyed, but had no time to defend herself. I tackled her around the waist, lifted her over my head as easily as if she were a medicine ball, and tossed her off the side of the building.

I overdid it. Rather than dropping into the alley, she sailed over the rooftops of the next block and disappeared. A half second later, a distant metallic clunk echoed from the canyon of First Avenue, followed by the angry weep-weep-weep of a car alarm.

My strength evaporated. I wobbled and fell to my knees, blood trickling down my face.

Meg stumbled over to me. Her new white leggings were soaked through from the wound on her thigh.

“Your head,” she murmured.

“I know. Your leg.”

She fumbled through her gardening pouches until she found two rolls of gauze. We did our best to mummify each other and stop the bleeding. Meg’s fingers trembled. Tears welled in her eyes.

***

The Tower of Nero, Chapter 6