Silverdun was fading fast. A chunk of Ein's bindings, if that was what it had been, had struck him in the forehead, hard enough to make his head spin. It had given Hy Pezho the advantage he'd needed to pry Silverdun's knife out of his hand. Now Hy Pezho had the knife and was trying to bring it down across Silverdun's neck. Silverdun gripped Hy Pezho's wrist with all his strength, but it wasn't enough.
Silverdun heard Ein's voice rattling in his ears, so loud he couldn't make out the words. He heard Faella shriek in the distance. 'Faella!' he shouted. 'I'm coming for you!' But there was nothing he could do for her. There was little he could do for himself.
'You have no idea what I went through to survive,' hissed Hy Pezho. 'You have no idea what I've sacrificed. Only to become Mab's errand boy. I was to have been an emperor. Now I'm a lackey. And a happy lackey at that. She has turned all of my ambition to love.'
'I really couldn't care less about your problems,' Silverdun managed. 'To be honest, I don't really know who you are. To me, you're just some evil bastard who likes to blow things up.'
Hy Pezho made no response, but pushed the knife down farther.
Oh, well.
'You! '
Em's voice was so loud that Silverdun thought his eardrums would burst. He looked straight up into Ein's bearded face, his enormous eyes glaring down at him. But Fin wasn't speaking to him. He was speaking to Hy Pezho.
'You are the one who pricked me while I lay helpless! You are the one who taunted me, thinking me asleep!'
Ein leaned down farther, and Silverdun could feel his terrible breath, the heat of a thousand ovens, the stink of death. 'I have not slept! I lay in wait, gathering strength bit by bit over eons, waiting for my time. And you, flittering insect, dare to steal from me! From Ein?'
Ein's fist came down hard toward them. Silverdun rolled, flipping Hy Pezho off of him, and the knife clattered to the floor.
But now the floor was of iron, and it burned Silverdun's hands. The pain was white-hot, intense. He lurched for the knife, snatched it from the ground, burning his knuckles anew as he wrapped his fingers around the hilt.
Ein was slow, very slow, but made up for it in strength. His fist connected with the floor in a shattering blow, spilling Silverdun down again. He could barely feel his hands now.
Hy Pezho was next to him. He'd fallen as well, and was now scrabbling to his feet.
Silverdun thought of calling out to him, speaking his name to resume their fight face-to-face, as propriety dictated.
'To hell with that,' he muttered. He stabbed Hy Pezho in the back, and the Black Artist fell to the floor, quivering on the iron as it burned his skin.
'Well done,' said Silverdun. 'But now what?'
Sela had never felt so helpless. She and Ironfoot were standing on the floating silver disc, twenty feet in the air. Ein had stood and was stomping his foot, howling in rage. On the other side of the room, Faella lay writhing, trying to get to her feet, but the iron burned her all over, stealing her ability to use re.
'What do we do, Ironfoot?' she cried.
'I don't know!' he said.
Something glittered in the corner of her eye. A moth fluttered toward her, swaying and dipping crazily. Hy Pezho?
No, not Hy Pezho. Silverdun.
She smiled in spite of herself and cried out.
'Amazing little creation!' Silverdun shouted. 'I haven't a clue how to fly it, though!'
He flew toward them, almost collided with the ground, then righted himself and glided toward them. He hit the disc a little too hard, with his midsection, and glanced off of it. The disc shuddered but remained erect. Again Silverdun righted himself and fluttered back, grabbing hold of the disc's edge.
'Where's Faella?' he asked.
Sela pointed.
'Let's go,' he said. He squinted in concentration and the wings of the armor flapped violently, pushing them forward, toward where Faella lay.
Ein continued stomping, his footsteps like percussive spellbombs. The literal wrath of Ein was dreadful to behold.
'Apparently, Hy Pezho made himself an enemy,' said Silverdun.
