Amy, in all her childish innocence, did not fully understand the danger that she was on – or perhaps in her child’s wisdom she knew that Medea could destroy the creatures that sprung out of those humans that a moment ago had seemed threatening but otherwise normal. She could burn them where they raised themselves into the air. Gunfire from Achilles forced them to stay low as Hector sprinted forward. Amy quite liked the strange weapon he suddenly held; a long sword with a gun built into the long hilt. At least, she thought it was the part called the hilt. Daddy had called bits of the sword the blade and the hilt in his story; the hilt was where you held it.
Jessica screamed behind her, and Amy twisted under Medea’s coat, lined prettily with mink fur and red leather, to look. The other girl was kicking madly, one of the demons had grabbed her by the ankle and was trying to fly up into the air with her. Amy wondered where it had come from. It had big leathery wings. Michael was in the air next to them, and he had a big sword in his hand, just like Hector, only Michael’s sword was on fire.
“I’ve got the Cassandrian!” the demon who had Jazzy shouted.
Michael raised his sword and cut a demon down. Jessica fell awkwardly, hitting the tarmac with a whimper.
“I will take the child!” Achilles half turned in reply to that call and Hector took a blow to his shoulder, falling. Now Amy was scared. One of the demon creatures rushed towards her and she cringed against Medea’s leg.
“Come, little one, play with me,” Medea laughed, and lifted a perfectly-manicured, child-like hand to beckon them closer, “play with me, children, come and play.”
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