I nod, feeling sort of dumb that I’d make such a basic mistake, but also a little thrilled that I just socked Nine right in the face. He seems to have appreciated it too, looking at me with a newfound respect as he wipes the blood off his face. I touch my hand, again feeling the icy sensation of my Legacy, intensified this time as it passes into my own hand.

Nine has picked up the dummy and dumped it back on the other side of the room. “Ready to try again?”

Eight and I huddle up for a second time. “Maybe I should introduce him to our old friend Narasimha?”

“Which one is that?”

“Lots of arms, lots of claws.”

“Sounds perfect,” I say. “Keep him busy and I’ll flank him.”

We break our huddle and Eight immediately transforms into one of his massive avatars. His handsome features melt away, replaced by the snarling face and golden mane of a lion. He grows to about twelve feet, ten arms sprouting out of his sides, each of them tipped with razor-sharp claws. Nine whistles through his teeth.

“Now we’re talking,” Nine says. “One of your parents must’ve been a Chimæra. Probably your mom.”

“Funny,” replies Eight, his voice a gravelly roar while in this shape.

I stay behind Eight as he stalks towards Nine, waiting for an opening to make a break for the dummy. Eight lunges forward, slashing at Nine with all his arms, forcing Nine to duck and weave away, parrying some of the blows with his staff. Nine prods at Eight with his staff, trying to keep him at bay, looking for an opening of his own.

As Nine twirls his staff for a counterattack, focused on Eight, I see a chance to make a difference. I reach out with my telekinesis and yank Nine’s staff out of his hands. He’s not expecting it, so the force sends him off balance, right into the waiting claws of Eight. Nine is slashed across the chest, his shirt torn to ribbons, the skin beneath cut open in gashes wide enough to need stitches. Both Eight and I hesitate at the sight of those wounds.

“I didn’t mean to get you that bad,” says Eight, the sympathy not really coming through his lion-head rumble.

Nine’s eyes have lit up, though. “It’s nothing!” he shouts. “Keep going!”

I’ve never seen anyone so excited by the sight of his own blood.