"Oh, god! Not again," Silvermist groaned through clenched teeth, stumbling back just in time as her doppelganger lunged at her with ruthless precision.
The blade of the black spear sliced through the air with a sound that was almost hungry. It missed her torso by inches, but the wind pressure alone was enough to make her hair whip around her face.
The second strike had nearly impaled her—and that was after the first one had already sent her crashing into a pile of rubble, twisting her ankle at an unnatural angle.
She hadn't even dodged it, not really. She just hadn't died.
Now every movement sent lightning bolts of pain up her leg, making it almost impossible to stand, let alone fight. Still, she clawed backward across the cracked ground, dragging her stubborn, useless left leg behind her like a broken doll.
