The tattoo, I think, remembering the way the tree engraved itself upon my skin at Fritzi’s touch, the visual reminder of our connection. The tattoo has been dormant—I almost forgot about it, because drawing from its power would mean siphoning magic from Fritzi. But our bond seems even stronger now, and when I reach for the magic, I know—Ifeel—Fritzi not just allowing me to take some, but shoving it at me, eagerly giving me more strength.
Her power rushes into me. The Tree tattoo is one of protection, andthatis my only thought as I slide my blade along the statue’s.
Protect Fritzi.
Our hilts catch, and power rushes from my chest into my arms, and I throw my force against my sword so strongly that the statue stumbles back, his sword glancing off mine. Rather than swing his blade again, the statue raises both arms.
For the first time, I notice three sharp spikes against the statue’s throat—a metal collar known as a torque. The neck ring had been engraved in the statue’s sandstone, tight, with the three spikes pointing down, but then the statue makes a resonant, hollow sound. The torque glows with golden light, and, like the statue’s blade turned real, the neck ring becomes solid gold metal.
My eyes are pinned on the statue, my arms tense and ready to strike in case it attacks again. It does not move.
Instead, the other three do.
Each of the other statues in the alcoves shuffles forward. Each reaches for their engraved blade, and, when they pull it out—the stone transmuting into razor-sharp metal—each prepares himself in a fighting position.
“Get ready,” I call, panic raising my voice. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Alois, already standing like a soldier, weapon drawn. Cornelia faces the third statue, and I’m reminded that she may be a priestess, but she’s spent her life defending the Well.
The statue I’ve been battling is motionless, but even if its eyes are nothing but orange-red rock, I feel them watching me. It lowers its sword and gestures with its other arm, as if to say,You are welcome to try.
And then the other three strike at once.
I lunge to the right, Fritzi staying close to me, slamming my sword into the nearest statue. It is only because I have the strength of Fritzi’s magic steeling my muscles that I do not crumble at the force of the statue’s returning blow.
I spare a glance at the first statue, the one Fritzi pointed out, the one that seems to have straw stuck in its stone. It still watches, its head turning from me to Cornelia and Alois, each of them fighting their own battle.
Fighting…and losing.
Alois and Cornelia aren’t bonded, and they don’t have any extra goddess-blessed strengths. Alois has power-enhancing tattoos from being in the Grenzwache, and Cornelia’s a priestess, which—I hope—grants her something extra in the battle, but I can see that we’re in a grim position. And if the straw statue decides to join the fray, we’ll be even more outnumbered.
“We’ve got to end this. Quick,” I snarl, using my weight to parry another blow from the statue in front of me.
“Got any ideas?” Fritzi has opened her magic to me, but being Holda’s champion means she has a deeper internal well than others. From her position, she’s using her magic to lift treasure—gold chains, heavy gems, polished weapons—from one of the tables and add to the assault against the statues Alois and Cornelia fight.
I catch her when she stumbles back and push her upright. She’s divided too much, funneling magic into me, using it for the others… The longer this battle takes, the more I’ll drain her.
The statue in front of me swings up, and I lunge forward, hacking at its side. The sandstone breaks.
They’re hollow inside.
My attacker folds a little to the left as its torso cracks, but it doesn’t fall. The blow is enough to make it lower its arm, though, and as soon as it does, I whack my blade against its shoulder. One arm drops off. The thing doesn’t stop, though, so I grind my teeth, aiming for the neck.
It blocks, using its one remaining arm. I think about the way the torque on the straw statue glowed, and I feel more certain than ever. Before the statue in front of me has a chance to recover, I rear back, leaving myself wide open for a hit but taking the chance anyway, and use the momentum to swing hard, driving the tip of my blade through the statue’s neck.
It crumbles to the ground in shattered pieces.
“Little help?” Alois cries, high-pitched and exhausted.
“Aim for the neck!” I shout as I lunge across the room, Fritzi at my heels.
Before I can get to him, a blast of magic bursts out—Cornelia threw some sort of spell at the statue fighting Alois. “Nice,” I mutter as fractures appear along the statue’s neck.
It doesn’t break, though. It slams a stone arm down at Alois, who rolls out of the way, closer to Cornelia, just as the statue Cornelia is fighting strikes her. Alois leaps up, blocking it, sparks and stone chips flying.
I want to help them, but I have to stop the statue Alois had been fighting first, even the odds.
I throw a leg up on the bench, kicking off the table of rotting food.I can feel Fritzi’s magic pushing me, driving me with more force as I soar across the room, my sword aimed at the statue’s back as it lumbers closer to help its brother fight Alois and Cornelia. I break through the sandstone with a hollow cracking sound, and rather than pull my short sword out, I pull itup, driving the steel through what would have been the spine, yanking the blade out at its neck and then smashing it back down. Thanks to the cracks Cornelia already gave it, I can behead the statue and watch it crumble all in one fell swoop.
I leap to the other side of the room, aided by Fritzi’s magic. It was like a tap before, a steady flow of power, but it’s like a raging flood now, magic driving through all my muscles, the strength so intense that it’s dizzying.
