Meg - Strong Meliai

Meg’s scimitars gleamed in the afternoon sun. “Hey, ash ladies,” she said, “how fast can you get up there?”

The leader glanced over. “Fast enough, O Meg.”

“Cool,” Meg said. Then she shouted up at the horse and his troops, “Last chance to surrender!”

Incitatus sighed. “Fine.”

“Fine, you surrender?” Meg asked.

“No. Fine, we’ll kill you. Pandai—”

“Dryads, ATTACK!” Meg yelled.

“Dryads?” Incitatus asked incredulously.

It was the last thing he ever said.

The Meliai leaped out of the pit as if it were no higher than a porch step. The dozen pandai archers, fastest shots in the West, couldn’t fire a single arrow before they were cut to dust by ashen spears.

Incitatus whinnied in panic. As the Meliai surrounded him, he reared and kicked with his golden-shod hooves, but even his great strength was no match for the primordial killer tree spirits. The stallion buckled and fell, skewered from seven directions at once.

The dryads faced Meg.

“The deed is done!” announced their leader. “Would the Meg like enchiladas now?”

Next to me, Piper looked vaguely nauseous, as if vengeance had lost some of its appeal. “I thought my voice was powerful.”

***

The Burning Maze, Chapter 44