The razor sharp paper blade scraped across Omilaena's throat with a shriek of metal. Troulon's eyes shifted from victory to surprise and he slowed when he should have pressed his attack.
She couldn't see it herself, but she knew what Troulon was staring at. A thin plate of venomsteel had poured out of the Prana Jewels, forming a defensive layer that covered her neck. Just building that made her head hurt, but it had saved her life. It was about the worst possible way to test a new application of an ability and she never wanted to do anything like it again.
Her old friend hesitated, just for a second. He seemed to be struggling with the demonic hunger within him, enough to slow down his second strike.
That was long enough. Omilaena couldn't move her arms much while being held down, but she formed a syringe in one hand and stabbed it into the leg of one of the Crestguards holding her. At the same moment she turned her head to the side and breathed poison directly into the face of the guard on her other side. The one at her back started to bear down on her, but she brought her head back swiftly, breaking his nose.
Troulon recovered from his surprise and struck with paper blades in both hands. She'd never planned to face them directly: Omilaena instead crouched down, letting the weight of the guard behind her fall onto her back and take the slashes. Then she launched herself up, hurling the body at her opponent.
Only the poisoned Crestguard was dying, but the other two were in great pain and Troulon was stumbling backward. Omilaena rose to her feet and took a deep breath as she realized she'd made it through. How long had it been since she'd come so close to death? But instead of attacking Troulon while he was weak, she spoke up quietly.
"What evidence do you have about burning the Great Library?"
"Enough!" Troulon took a step back and shook out his sleeves, returning to his razor birds strategy - no choice but to deflect them and retreat away from the injured Crestguards. As she did, Omilaena exhaled poison onto the ground to take out the fallen guards or at least impede them.
Something in Troulon's hand was burning, creating more of the gray smoke than before. The haze spread out, filling the chamber and pressing against her own blue smoke. They circled one another, both surrounded in their smoke techniques. When Troulon unleashed a larger bird it floated forward on a line of smoke and she had to breath out more to press it aside. Every time she tried to close on him, he retreated into his own smoke while spreading more of it behind her. As they exchanged blows the remaining Crestguards fell, until it was just the two of them in the haze.
"When the Dominion came to the city, they came with an army," Troulon said tersely in between attacks. "The Windlord was targeting Matiavel, but they sent others in to overload the power lines and destroy the city. I saw them marching to destroy the Great Library. It took a great weapon - this weapon - to destroy them before they could manage."
"That's consistent with what I know," Omilaena said, "but what proof do you have that the Council of Elders was involved?"
Troulon growled and lunged at her, swinging another paper sword overhead. She blocked it with a long needle and held it there - not good strategy, but she needed to pull more answers out of him. For a moment they stood face to face with their weapons between them, and either could have used the proximity to attack, then he pulled back.
"Listen to me, Troulon! I've been watching the elves for a long time - they want more control and a stronger presence in Rosemount, but they aren't that destructive. Their elder was the one who stopped the battle between the great powers. If they had wanted to devastate the capital, they would have held back."
"But the attacks... the war..."
"The demons started them. You're smarter than this, Troulon... stop and think!"
His eyes went dead and he attacked again, even more recklessly than before. He formed a paper sword larger than the last, with even more power behind it, and if he had attacked in combination with more paper birds, she would have been hard-pressed to defend herself. But this was the wild charge of an animal; Omilaena deflected the sword, grabbed his wrist, and pinned him to the ground.
"The only threat to the Great Library is war," she told him firmly, "and the demons are the cause of the war. I think you know this, on some level. Are you really so far gone?"
All at once the strength went out of his limbs. The paper blade around his hand, once a deadly weapon, fluttered down as useless sheets. Troulon lay on his back and closed his eyes wearily.
"You're right," he breathed. "I kept my head until the CTG showed me the fake evidence. Anaelina has been pushing us all toward the war... it's clear enough, I just didn't want to see. I've... done things, Omi. Things I regret, things I couldn't justify logically. I..."
Omilaena helped him to his feet cautiously and he swayed. His eyes still glowed with that soft gray and she could feel the hunger rising in him. She took a step back and turned away, lowering her hands to her sides and beginning preparations.
"I'm sorry, Omi," Troulon told her sadly. "I'm not strong enough. I thought I could overcome the urges logically, but the hunger won. I can't... I can't..."
With a roar he rushed at her again, mouth open wide to reveal gray fangs. Omilaena spun just as she had anticipated, sinking the syringe in her hidden hand deep into his neck.
"I'm sorry too," she said, then injected him.