The construct recoiled, and Angelique stabbed it in the back before it could make another move. Angelique glanced from it to the other constructs, which were all fighting to get past the warriors. “They’re here for Snow White!”
Rupert scoffed. “We noticed.”
“But why?” Snow White asked—her voice barely shaking even though she’d nearly been cornered.
She is a tough little thing, even if she doesn’t think so.
“A question best pursued when we don’t fear you being kidnapped by magical constructs,” Rupert said.
Aldelbert picked up a spear. “They shouldn’t have come. But that’s all right. They will learn to fear the house of Chita!” He dashed at the incoming flow of constructs, ran past them, and disappeared through the broken door.
Marzell shouted. “Aldelbert!”
“There is quite an impressive number out here!” Aldelbert’s shout came back slightly muffled but still just as casual and upbeat as ever. “Back, you fiends!”
Marzell swiveled so he faced the warrior that was built like an ox. “Gregori.”
“Uh-huh.”
Without any additional instructions, Gregori grabbed the other table bench and jogged outside, holding the bench horizontally in front of him so he could ram through the constructs as he disappeared into the night. “Aldelbert,” he called. “Get back here.”
“The House of Chita never retreats!”
“I’ll burn your best cloak,” Gregori rumbled. Assumedly, he was keeping up with the constructs based on the casual tone of his voice.
“Vile!” Aldelbert said. “Unsportsmanlike!”
Fritz whirled his sword around in smooth arcs that Angelique was the tiniest bit jealous of. “Numbers,” he prompted.
“Ahh, yes. Gregori—how does it look out there?” Marzell called.
“Not good. I don’t see an end to them.”
Aldelbert heartily laughed. “We are, in fact, ‘pinned,’ as Fritz would say, to the side of our cottage!”
Oswald laughed like a madman as he jumped into a cluster of the constructs. “As if they’re anything to fear. They’re just constructs!”
What an idiot.
“Just because they’re made of magic doesn’t mean they can’t hurt you,” Angelique snarled.
“Huh?” In Oswald’s moment of inattention, a construct raked the claws of its long-fingered hand across his arm.
The construct’s claws ripped through his shirt and left gashes on his bicep, but Oswald only hissed.
Angelique stabbed a construct in the throat, turning it into smoke. “Like so.”
“We need to get Aldelbert and Gregori back inside,” Wendal jumped to a different rafter in the cottage roof and threw a dagger from his seemingly endless supply. “They’ll be squashed out there.
“We need to stop these constructs,” Marzell said. “Or we’ll get overrun soon.”
Angelique glanced worriedly from Snow White to the hordes of constructs rushing into the cottage. The warriors were barely able to hold them back as the constructs mindlessly lunged in the princess’s direction, reaching for her with grasping hands.
Why would a black mage go after Snow White? I assumed her stepmother’s near violent attack was a fit of rage, but was the black mage trying to target Snow White all along? But if that was so, why not place the spell directly on her?
Deciding she’d ponder the matter at a more convenient time, Angelique stabbed a construct. “Any ideas?”
Oswald beheaded two constructs, wincing a little when the movement stretched the muscles of his arm. “Don’t fall down.”
“Perhaps Wendal should fix the windows, and we barricade ourselves inside?” Rupert stabbed a construct, but another grabbed his wrist and dug its claws into his skin.
He scuffled with it, but Marzell saved him with the snap of a whip.
Angelique swung around, stabbing another construct, cursing under her breath as a rush of the creatures got through the warriors’ barrier.
One construct almost made it to Snow White, but the princess dodged it, and it nearly flung itself into the fire with an angry hiss before Fritz stabbed it through, and Wendel—from his ceiling perch—cut down the others with a few daggers.
This is getting too close for comfort. I don’t want to reveal my identity, but I don’t want anyone to get seriously hurt.
She stretched her magic senses—trying to get a sense of the number they faced—and cringed when she felt the veritable sea of constructs that crowded around the exterior of the cottage.
Angelique winced when another construct squeezed between Fritz and Rupert. She sliced through it with her dagger. Yes, it seems that I don’t have a choice.
She glanced at the still-full weapon racks on the far side of the cottage. “If you stand back—” Angelique paused when she noticed Snow White was digging through the pile of wood stacked next to the fireplace. “What are you doing?”
“I want to test something.” Snow White ripped the seam of her linen underskirt and tore a long strip of it. She tied it around one end of the stick she’d chosen, then thrust it into the flames. As soon as the fabric caught on fire, she scrambled up to the defensive line the warriors had formed.
“Snow White, get back!” Marzell shouted.
Snow White—once again showing her toughness—ignored him. “Fritz, I need an opening!”
The tall forester swung his sword in a smooth diagonal strike that killed two constructs at once. (If she could figure out how to discuss sword techniques without giving up her front, Angelique was going to question Fritz as soon as possible.) Fritz’s attack opened up a space in front of him.
Snow White poked her head into the hole between Fritz and Rupert, then shoved her burning stick out in front of her.
To Angelique’s surprise, the constructs stopped and actually took a few staggering steps backwards, clawing at their eyes and gnashing their serrated teeth.
“I’ve got it!” Snow White shouted. “They’re weak to fire—or light. I can’t tell which.”
Heavens bless Snow White! She may have just turned the tide enough in our favor that my magic will be unnecessary.
Angelique admired the proof as the constructs writhed in the light of Snow White’s makeshift torch. “And so the princess proves the ancient saying of brains over brawn. But I know one way we can find out if they’re weak to light and not just fire!”
Angelique flipped open her satchel again and dug around in its cavernous depths. As she pulled a few starfire crystals from the bag, Wendal hung upside down from the rafters. “If you don’t mind, Princess, I’ll take that.”
Snow White passed him the flaming stick, then ran back to the fireplace and flung firewood on the flames, making the room hotter and brighter.
Angelique unearthed an armload of starfire crystals—mentally thanking Stil and Gemma for insisting she take them all back when she visited Chanceux in the fall. “Snow White, take these!” She passed the princess a handful of crystals. “Follow my lead.” She spun around to face constructs still pouring into the cottage and struggled to hold her armload of magic crystals up. “Shine!”
The starfires glowed a bright, pure white light and cast mini rainbows from their prism facets.