"Sydlynhamitra," she said in a voice echoing through the hallway, "I, Phatshepeset, Lady of the Eighth Plane, challenge you for status."
Nice name. But I wasn't contemplating what she was called or what her ranking was. For once I did as I was told and acted.
Acting I could actually handle. The second she stopped speaking my power was on the move, lashing at her legs in slicing blades of amber fire. It should have worked. I had the jump on her, the shields surrounding her should have been in a nasty puddle at her feet.
Damn it.
I had so much to learn.
Her magic skipped around the edges of mine, forming ripples diffusing the slashing attack until I might as well have come at her with a knitting needle. I barely-barely-had time to dodge aside as her own magic slid forward, a hissing snake, to strike at me with venom I was certain would do more damage than I was willing to take.
Any damage was unacceptable, to be honest.