Dormolon was waiting for him, a nasty, confident, the-world-can-go-to-Hell grin on his face. The guy just didn't care. People would drown. Millions, no billions of men, woman, and kids would drown, and it was nothing to him. Dormolon was ready to sacrifice Mandy and the others to achieve his goal of ruling a sea realm of his own. Greg took a deep breath. Not going to happen!
Greg moved toward the renegade mer. Thank the Goddess, his grandmother had been right. His wounds were healed as if they had never been, and he was back to top strength. He was going to need every bit of it to defeat Dormolon.
The mer prince was hampered by his need to stay inside the pentacle. He'd begun the spell, and stepping out of the pentacle before it was finished would send the magic rebounding back on him. The other five securely netted captives were already on the ground inside the pentacle, one at each of five points of the star.
So, that was how it was going to go, Greg thought. He had to grab Dormolon and pull him outside the pentacle without letting the prince cut him with that athame. This was heavy duty magic, of the very blackest sort. One wrong step, and the collapsing spell would crush the prince into a puddle of slime. Greg eyed the wildfae, already in the center of the pentacle and covered with their own bright blue blood. There wasn't much chance that he could save them now. Greg didn't see any way out for the wildfae, but maybe he still could save the others.
"Come and join me," Dormolon invited. "It's time to do your part toward making this world the ocean it should be."
"Like Hell," Greg answered. "I'm not about to be a Happy Meal for the Guardian." He moved in a narrowing spiral around the pentacle. Dormolon side stepped along with him, always facing Greg.
"Not a Happy Meal," the mer prince said. "You're a whole feast, all by yourself, a banquet for the old dragon."
Greg made a feint to his left and then shot back right, just missing the prince. He came away with a handful of torn cloth from Dormolon's shirt, but the mer escaped him.
"Damn!" Dormolon swore, "You're an annoying bastard. Just give it up, LeFay. You loose. I win. So, get in here and die already. You can't keep this up much longer, not with that wound in your chest."
Oh, yeah, Greg thought. Dormolon didn't know about the Joining with Mandy. So, the mer thought he was weak. Just let him get close enough . . . .
Dormolon was watching Greg, not where he was stepping. Greg saw Abigail double up and kick with both feet. The mer prince staggered. He was almost out of the pentacle. Greg sprang forward, reaching for the prince's flailing arm.
But he'd forgotten the Humboldts. The hard smack of a tentacle in the middle of his back sent him crashing through the pentacle and into Dormolon. The prince brought the athame down in a sweeping slice that cut deep into Greg's chest, and then he pulled the stone knife away. Greg's blood gushed out in a torrent, spilling onto the prince, pouring onto the stone, pumping his life and is magic toward the Well of Deeps.