“Movement,” I said sharply, needing to break whatever moment this was. “Eleven o’clock.”
Elle turned slowly, the wonder draining from her face as she spotted the bone-root construct. It moved like a spider, too many joints bending wrong, its form a mockery of both skeletal and plant life.
The marks on her skin flared bright with fear, and I felt the exact moment her survival instinct kicked in. Her posture shifted—less wonder, more coiled tension. She was learning.
Good, I thought. Fear will keep her alive longer than awe ever could.
“What the fuck is that?”
“Construct. I just told you.”
“You didn’t say they looked like nightmares had babies with trees!”
“Would that information have helped?”
“Maybe!”
The construct moved closer, drawn by her power but wary.
“What do I do?” Real fear in her voice now.
“Defend yourself.”
“That’s your advice?”
“You wanted practical training.”
“I wanted to not die!”
“Then defend yourself effectively.”
She glared at me, but the construct attacked. It moved faster than she expected, launching itself with bone claws extended.
Elle threw herself sideways, marks flaring. Thorns erupted from her arms—wild, desperate things. The construct twisted mid-leap to avoid them, landing behind her.
“Stop running!” I called. “You’re not prey anymore.”
“Easy for you to say!”
But she stopped retreating. When the construct lunged again, she met it. Her thorns caught its claws, holding them at bay.
“Now grow something inside it,” I instructed.
“What?”
“You made a flower sing. Make this thing bloom.”
Understanding flickered across her face. She pressed her palm against the construct’s chest, marks pulsing.
Nothing happened for a heartbeat. Then the construct screamed.
Flowers erupted from inside it—violent, hungry things with their own thorns. They consumed it from within, using its body as fertilizer. Within seconds, a garden stood where the monster had been.
Elle staggered back, staring. “I killed it.”
“You transformed it.”
“That’s just fancy words for killing.”
