Shield and Crocus Read Free Page B

teeth tearing off one corner of his longcoat as it billowed under him. Dammit. I just mended that last month.
    First Sentinel reached into belt and grabbed two stone spheres, each the size of a small lime. He pressed a small button on each stone and then tossed the bombs into the mouth. He shuffled back as fast as he could, favoring his hip.
    The teeth closed on the enchanted stones. A second later, they detonated with a muffled boom, sending shards of bone and teeth flying across the street. First Sentinel ducked under his longcoat, feeling blunted cuts as the shreds clattered on the street and bit into doors and walls opposite the school. When he looked up, the mouth laid slack and open, teeth shattered and mouth bloodied. A quick glance around the street told him that no one else had been caught in the explosion.
    Much better.
    * * *
    The stench of the school’s interior sagged in the air, worse than the breath of a dog who feasted in the sewers. First Sentinel wore a re-breather usually saved for poison gas as he walked down the hall. The youthful wails continued from down the hall and to the left. The school was nearly empty, tiled floors now mottled soft tissue. With each step, First Sentinel’s boots sank nearly to the ankle.
    A red streak settled into the form of Blurred Fists at the corner. “Up here. They’re stuck in the teeth.”
    First Sentinel pushed down the hall, pulling his feet out of the suction of the floor. Blurred Fists waited for him at the door to the classroom, no marks on the floor from his footfalls. First Sentinel huffed to himself, wishing for not the first time he’d been born a Pronai. Their gift of speed he’d take, but the power was not worth the short lifespan. As a Pronai, he’d have died barely after the tyrant’s rise, might’ve never had a chance to serve as a Shield.
    As the two Shields stepped inside, the stench hit First Sentinel like a wet slap to the face. It was nearly unbearable, even with a re-breather.
    The classroom was a dentist’s nightmare. The chairs were rows of jagged teeth that topped a yard tall. A spotted red carpet stretched the length of the room, rolled over on one end. Several folded over clusters of ingrown molars trapped the dozen children left moving.
    First Sentinel’s mind raced, trying to sort out how to save the children without hurting them, and fast. They’d need to crack the enamel, delicate work with them squirming and crying. It would take time, but it shouldn’t be too dangerous. A boy of no more than seven cried out for his mother, and sympathetic pain arced down his spine. He sounds just like Selweh did at that age.
    First Sentinel dashed forward to the children, but two steps in the floor rolled underneath him. What First Sentinel had taken for carpet licked up at the two men from the far wall, lashing out like a thick tentacle.
    Fantastic. First Sentinel rolled off to the side, glanced off a stand of teeth, and rose to his knees. He stuffed the staves back into his belt and pulled out two alchemically-sharpened knives. He held one in reverse grip high by his face for defense and the other out in front to slash and stab. He stepped between the children and the tongue, trying to read its movement.
    The tongue lolled at First Sentinel. He dodged back and buried his forward blade in the thing as it crashed down on him. Ignoring its wound, the tongue slammed First Sentinel into a cluster of teeth, the cuts glancing off of his magically-hardened longcoat.
    A wave of lighter red flashed in front of First Sentinel as Blurred Fists pushed the abomination back with a barrage of punches. The Pronai raced around to the other side of the tongue. First Sentinel pressed forward, spinning his knives in an advancing figure-eight. He cut gashes out of the frenulum at the tongue’s base while behind the tongue, Blurred Fists’ gloves made the sound of a boxer pounding frozen carcasses.
    Dodging the spastic swings of the tongue, First Sentinel landed