"Freeze its left leg," I commanded, already moving. "At the knee joint!"
Lioran's magic lanced out, ice spreading across the golem's mismatched leg like a creeping plague. The moment I saw thejoint lock solid in my vision, I lunged forward with my blade, bringing it down across the back of the thing's frozen knee.
The sword bit deep. Black ichor sprayed everywhere, the stench overwhelming and unbearable, but worth it as the golem stumbled.
"The arm!" I shouted. "The big one—when it swings, freeze the shoulder!"
I saw it coming—the massive fist driving toward my chest. But I also saw Lioran's ice spreading across the joint, saw the moment the foul thing would seize up.
I waited.
Waited.
Now.
I sidestepped as the arm locked mid-swing, the fist passing so close to my face I could smell its fetid decay. My blade flashed up, finding the gap where rotting flesh met wire, and I dragged the edge through with all my strength.
The arm didn't sever completely, but now it hung by threads of sinew and wire.
"Again!" I roared. "Same spot!"
Lioran's ice encased the wounded joint, and I struck once more. This time, the limb separated entirely, hitting the ground with a wet, meaty thud.
The golem shrieked—both mouths working in dissonant harmony—and lurched toward us on its damaged leg. My precognition revealed the desperate lunge it was soon to take, showed me exactly where those sharpened fingers would try to rake across my face.
"Freeze the other arm!" I was already ducking beneath the strike I knew was coming. "Wrist and elbow!"
Ice spread like wildfire across the skeletal limb as Lioran poured his magic into it. The fingers locked in place, frozen mid-grasp. I brought my sword down on the thing's wrist in a brutaloverhead chop. Once. Twice. The frozen flesh shattered like glass, bone splintering beneath my blade.
The creature was falling apart now, lurching on one damaged leg, both arms useless or gone. But it kept coming, driven by Tristan's dark magic.
"The neck," I said, breathing hard. "When it lunges—go for the neck."
I saw the moment before it happened—the golem's final, desperate attack. That horrible patchwork head driving forward, mouths gaping, trying to tear at me with broken teeth.
"Now!"
Lioran lurched forward, swinging his sword with everything he had. His blade carved through the golem's flesh and wire, through vertebrae and sinew, and the golem's head toppled backward, still twitching as it struck the ground. The body collapsed a second later, pieces separating as the magic binding it finally failed.
Lioran immediately dropped to his knees beside the twitching corpse, which was now turning to mist, fumbling with his pack. Once he yanked a glass orb from the bag, he closed his fingers around it and pressed his thumb against the rune. The orb split open as a vortex of air spiraled out from the glass, pulling at the dark mist that was already rising from the golem's remains.
The mist stretched thin, then thinner still, before the vortex dragged it screaming into the glass prison. The moment the last wisp vanished inside, the orb snapped shut with a sound like breaking ice.
Lioran held it up, breathing hard. Inside the glass, the dark mist roiled and pressed against its glacial walls, seeking escape it would never find.
He looked up at me, those too-large eyes bright with exertion. "Tristan will be hearing about this later."
I immediately released a heavy chuckle, and he did the same.
"I’ve never hunted so effectively with a partner before." The words escaped before I could stop them.
But they were true. In all my years beside Arthur, I’d hunted with dozens of knights—but always preferred my solitude. I was a blade meant to strike alone. Yet this... this had been different.
Effortless. Intuitive.
Unnerving.
And exhilarating.
