He was up again in a second and prowling back toward the phantom, but his eyes had a slightly wild glint to them that made Elena nervous. Even injured, the phantom was stronger than Damon, and, after his long fight with Stefan, Damon's reserves must be waning. He was growing reckless. Elena gathered her courage and moved closer to the phantom again, as close to the flames as she could stand. The phantom glanced back at her for a second and then away, focusing on the stronger threat.
It sprang forward to meet Damon, its fiery arms spread wide and a savagely joyous smile on its face. And suddenly Meredith was there beside Damon. She looked solemn and pale as a young martyr, her lips tight and her eyes wary, but she moved as fast as lightning. Her stave sliced through the air almost too quickly to see, leaving another long cut across the phantom's stomach. The phantom howled, and the flames on its torso hissed as more greenish fluid gushed from the wound.
But the phantom remained upright. It snarled and reached for Meredith, who danced rapidly backward, just out of range. Meredith and Damon exchanged a wordless look and moved to flank the phantom, one on either side, so that it couldn't watch both of them at once. Damon cuffed Jealousy, a short, intense blow, and pul ed back a reddish, blistering hand. Meredith swung her stave again, nearly catching the phantom on the arm but instead cleaving only a wisp of smoke.
There was a crash as a burning shelf col apsed onto the floor. The smoke grew thicker. Away from the fight, Elena could hear Bonnie and Matt coughing.
Elena moved closer stil , again coming toward the phantom from behind, safely out of Meredith and Damon's way. The phantom's heat was like a bonfire.
Meredith and Damon were moving in tandem now, as smoothly as if they had rehearsed, dancing in and back, sometimes catching the phantom with a blow, more often passing through a curl of smoke or mist as the phantom transformed its parts from solid to airy shapes. A voice rang out. "Impera te desistere." Mrs. Flowers leaned against the supporting arms of Matt and Alaric. But her eyes were clear and her voice was steady. Power crackled in the air around her.
The phantom slowed only slightly in its fight, perhaps no more than a half second behind in its thrusts and transformations. But this was enough to make at least a little difference. More of Damon's and Meredith's blows landed, and they were able to dodge a few more of the phantom's.
Was it enough, though? The phantom flinched when a punch hit home, and it bled horrible green goo where the stave cut it, but it was stil steady on its feet as Meredith and Damon hacked and choked in the smoke and stumbled away from the flames. The rose in Jealousy's chest pulsed a steady dark red. Elena exhaled in frustration and immediately began to cough again. The phantom wasn't staying in one place long enough for Elena to get a good shot at grabbing the rose-heart.
Meredith sliced at it with her fighting stave, and this time the stave slid through smoke, and the phantom grabbed the stave in one hand, swinging Meredith toward Damon. Col iding, they both fel heavily to the ground, and the phantom, stil slightly hobbled by Mrs. Flowers's spel , strained toward them.
"I've envied Meredith for her brains!" shouted Bonnie. Her face was smudged with smoke and tears, and she looked incredibly smal and fragile, but she was standing straight-backed and proud, yel ing at the top of her lungs. "I know I'l never be as good at school as she is, but that's okay. I cast my jealousy out!"
The phantom's rose dimmed to a dark pink for a moment, and it staggered ever so slightly. It glanced at Bonnie and hissed. It was only a tiny pause in the phantom's advance, but it was enough for Damon to spring to his feet. He stepped in front of Meredith, shielding her as she clambered up. Without even looking at each other, Meredith and Damon began circling in opposite directions again. "I've been jealous that my friends have more money than I do!" Matt shouted, "but I cast the jealousy out!"
"I envy the way Alaric truly believed in something unproven, and turned out to be right!" Celia yel ed. "But I cast it out!"
"I've envied Elena's clothes!" Bonnie cried. "I'm too short to look good in lots of things! But I cast that out!"
Damon kicked at the phantom, pul ing his smoldering leg back quickly. Meredith swung her stave. Mrs. Flowers chanted in Latin, and Alaric joined her, his low voice in counterpoint to hers, reinforcing her spel . Bonnie, Celia, and Matt kept shouting: dredging up smal jealousies and hurts that they were probably usual y hardly aware of, casting them out to pepper the phantom with tiny blows. And for the first time, the phantom looked... baffled. It swung its head slowly from one to another of its opponents: Damon stalking toward it, fists raised; Meredith, her stave swinging surely as she watched the phantom with a cool and considering gaze; Alaric and Mrs. Flowers reciting strings of Latin words, hands lifted; Bonnie, Matt, and Celia shouting confessions as if they were throwing rocks at it. Jealousy's glassy eyes passed over Elena without real y seeming to notice her: Standing stil and quiet among the entire hubbub, she was not a threat.
This was the best chance Elena was going to get. She nerved herself to move forward, then froze as the phantom turned toward her.
Then, miraculously, Stefan was there. He grappled at the phantom's back, throwing one arm around its neck as the flames licked at him. His shirt caught fire. The phantom, briefly, was pul ed backward past Elena, its torso toward her, unprotected.
Without hesitation, Elena plunged her hand into the fire. For a moment, she barely felt the flames, just a gentle, almost cool touch against her hand as the flames flickered around her. Not so bad, she had a moment to think, and then she felt the pain.
It was pure and agonizing, and dark fireworks of shock went off behind her eyes. She had to fight to overcome the almost irresistible instinct to pul her hand back out of the fire. Instead, she groped at the phantom's torso, searching for the cut Meredith had made just above its rose. It was slippery and smooth, and her hand fumbled. Where is it?