as if pushing a great weight before him.

The ground shook beneath my feet.

I leapt up and to the left. A sinkhole gaped where I’d stood. I landed and jumped again, barely avoiding another pit. All around me holes opened, like greedy black mouths in the snow, and I hopped between them like a chicken on hot tin. I dashed right, then left. Unless I learned to fly, I’d never get to him.

Solomon laughed in Erra’s voice.

Usually I saved my magic as a last resort, but this was the old power and now wasn’t a good time to screw around. I had to hit him now and hit him hard.

I took a deep breath and barked a power word. “Ossanda.” Kneel.

The world reeled in a haze of pain. Like grabbing a handful of my own flesh and ripping it out. I reeled, but didn’t go down.

Solomon’s mouth gaped open. A dull roar like the sound of a rockslide spilled from his lips. His knees hit the dirt. Who’s laughing now?

The holes in the ground closed. I ran.

The power word had drained too much of my magic, and every step turned into a battle of will. Like dragging lead chains. I kept running.

Snow flew under my feet. Solomon shuddered. Thick cords of muscle bulged on his thighs.

Ten feet.

Six.

Three.

I struck in a classic overhead blow designed to cleave through his neck. As I swung, dirt thrust between us. The saber’s blade sliced through soil and came away clean. Missed. Shit.

A thick mound jutted where Solomon had knelt. Trying to thrust through it would break the blade and accomplish nothing.

“First, you kneel, then you hide. So far I’m not impressed.”

The mound exploded. Chunks of dirt pelted the snow. Solomon lunged at me, laughing.

I dodged and carved at his side. Slayer sliced a narrow line just under Solomon’s ribs. Red gushed. Solomon whipped about and backhanded me. The punch smashed into my chest. I flew, slid through the snow, and crashed against something. Cold sliced my right side, as if someone had thrust an icicle into my kidney. My lungs burned. Colored circles swam before my eyes. I must’ve hit my head.

I squinted—the body of a broken golem. Warm sticky liquid wet my side. I wanted a shower to wash it off . . . Yep, definitely hit my head.

“Shake it off,” Erra said. “Come on. Up you go.”

I jerked myself free. The golem’s spear jutted out, propped by its corpse, and its spearhead was red with my blood. Just what I need.

“Have your eyes cleared yet?”

“Hold your horses. I’m coming.” Yeah, not so much.

“From where I stand, you’re just breathing laboriously.”

The snow swam in and out of focus. “Breathing hard. Are you coming or just breathing hard. You’ve got to get your one-liners straight.”

“Thanks. I’ll remember that.”

The blurry haze cleared and I saw Solomon charging at me on all fours.

No time. I braced my back against the golem and gripped Slayer with both hands.

Solomon loomed over me. “Time to pray.”

I kicked my leg up, catching him in the gut, and thrust into his chest. Slayer slid into the flesh between his ribs. The point met resistance and it vanished.

Solomon’s huge hands tried to grip at me, but my foot on his stomach held him back. Pressure ground at my bones. God, he was a heavy bastard. I twisted the blade, trying to rupture the heart.

“Give it up,” I squeezed out. “I hit the heart.”

Erra snorted. “I know. Do you have any idea how many bodies I had to go through to get him?”

The light shrank. Earth piled around us. A few moments and we’d be buried.

The wound gnawed at my side. My saber was caught, and sinking silver needles into the undead would be like poking him with toothpicks—slightly painful but ultimately futile.

Solomon dug his feet in. His fingers scratched my neck.

There wasn’t enough air. “Would you just let him die already?”

“He doesn’t have much left, don’t worry. You do talk a lot. Like a little squirrel in a tree, chirp-chirp- chirp.”

I barely saw the light above us. If the earth built up any more, Solomon would collapse on me when he died for the second time. I would suffocate, buried alive. “Your animal impressions are stunning.”

Solomon jerked right. His hand grasped my arm, he ducked his head, and pain clenched my forearm.

She made her undead bite me. “What the hell?”

Solomon grinned. “Little squirrel! You taste like family.”

Oh, shit.

A shaggy shape hit Solomon, snarling and snapping teeth. Solomon jerked and extra weight pressed on me as the dog tore into Solomon’s back. I cried out. Solomon swiped with his arm, knocking the poodle aside. His weight shifted, and I grabbed my throwing knife.

“Don’t touch my dog.”

Solomon laughed. “How curious. Hugh’s been keeping secrets. No wonder. That’s the trouble with hired help: without ambition, they are useless, with ambition—”

I stabbed my throwing knife into Solomon’s throat. “Severed carotid. Enjoy.”

Blood gushed from Solomon’s mouth, drenching my face. “See you soon,” he gurgled.

Solomon’s eyes went blank. He shuddered once and crashed on top of me.

Erra had bailed.

I strained and pushed Solomon’s corpse to the side, into the dirt.

A moment later a smelly tongue licked my face, covering my skin with the fine perfume of day-old roadkill.

I hugged the furry neck. “Okay, okay. Let me up now.”

The poodle leaped away, excited. I got to my feet. The cut in my side screeched in protest. An earthen wall rose up to my waist. I clutched on to it, so I wouldn’t tip over.

Solomon lay facedown. I kicked him. It didn’t make me feel that much better. I kicked him again, just in case, and realized I was looking at a spear sticking out of his back.

The ward went down. People rushed from the Temple, heading toward me.

Where the hell had the spear come from?

A man reached me. “Are you hurt?”

“Who threw the spear?”

He shrank back. “I’m a medic. I can help you.”

I tried to speak slowly in my nonthreatening voice. “Where did the spear come from?”

He blinked. “I don’t know, I didn’t see.”

I grabbed the spear and strained. Sonovabitch, really in there. I put my foot on the body, crushing a few black needles, and pulled hard. The spear came free. It used to belong to one of the golems. Someone had picked it up and hurled it. Someone with great strength.

Someone had reported my crawling around the pole with Joshua’s body on it. Someone had watched me from the ruins. And now someone had skewered Solomon and vanished. I was really getting tired of all the secrecy.

Little squirrel. You taste like family. See you later.

She recognized the blood, but she didn’t know who I was. If I were her, I’d track me down. I’d get into my house, learn anything I could about me, and look for anything I could use as leverage. I knew this would eventually happen and it finally did. All my friends had just acquired a huge bull’s-eye on their backs.

Julie. I had Julie’s pictures in the house.

I had to get home.

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