Sylnie sat up, rubbing her head.
“Jaelin!” she called out. “Just telefrag these assholes and put a stop to this!” Apparently she’d decided that, since the problem was beyond her powers to directly affect, the solution could only be reached through delegation.
“Can’t!” Jaelin grunted in the midst of her showdown with Kezin.
“Why not? The Devil does it all the time!”
“But he’s the Devil,” Jaelin said, her fists flying. “If a demon teleports into another demon, the space in dispute will be occupied by the being with greater psychic power.”
Sylnie glanced frantically in my direction and then turned back to Jaelin. “Okay. What does that mean?”
Jaelin took a hefty kick to the stomach, rolled, and came back up swinging. “It means I could telefrag you, no problem. But Azraal might have me beat and if I try it, I could lose.”
“Azraal would stay put and you’d blow yourself to bits?”
“The Devil’s come back from the dead before,” Jaelin said. “But I wouldn’t.” She wrapped Kezin in a headlock and winced as he pummeled her kidneys trying to break free.
Sylnie sighed exasperatedly. She hurried over and tried to bowl Azraal off me again, with expectedly ineffectual results. So she climbed on his back, pulled at his weapon arm with one hand and tried to score another eye-poke with the other, though he squinted and bucked his head to give her a difficult target.
All this had served to convince me that, other than Sylnie’s well-meaning but limited help, I was pretty much on my own. If I didn’t do something soon, Azraal’s strength would overpower me. So maybe the only way I could beat him now was to use his superior strength against him.
I was about to take a pretty big risk. Or maybe I was about to be brilliant.