Adrift VI
The pair of sailors coiled and spun in the rushing descent. Aiming for a racing island in the distance, neither could gain a significant upper hand in the grapple, but each knew the only chance for survival was using the other to absorb the brunt of an island impact. No one returned from the mantle.
“Your deat–” Lord Kremm started to say when Jorey struck.
She knew the pompous ass would open his blowhole before they crashed. He couldn’t not. It was his nature. When the right syllable came, she hammered an elbow into his jaw. She didn’t see the tip of his tongue disappear as his teeth sheared it off, but the spray of blood was indicative.
As he roared in pain, Jorey jammed a belt pouch into that hole and spun them with lethal purpose. Lord Kremm fought with the primal reflex and misjudged the final approach as he fought with the pouch. She planted her legs on his midsection and absorbed as much as she dared when they crashed into the small rock formation. She still heard something crack in her left leg, but nothing like the crunch that came from her opponent.
Pain lanced through her as they tumbled across the outcropping, and she barely registered the broken form of Lord Kremm tumbling off the edge into the open air once more. Her hands found enough purchase to catch her from following him. Hanging half off of the island, the pain of her shattered leg dangling almost sent her into a fatal free fall.
Jorey hauled herself a few feet from the edge before collapsing into unconsciousness. That’s when the island’s only denizen crept forth.