Gregori shot the construct in the chest and reloaded his crossbow before Angelique realized he’d attacked.
The construct didn’t seem at all upset about the bolt that protruded from its chest. It rocked its head back and forth, then roared—which sounded like an entire forest of trees snapping and splintering. It cut the noise off by clamping its jaw—grotesque due to the jagged edges that formed its mouth—shut.
Angelique blinked, still trying to make sense of its muffled magical signature, and the construct lurched forward, putting its weight on its arms and hefting itself across the small clearing with a lightning-like speed.
Marzell yanked two hand axes from Aldelbert’s barrel of portraits. “Angel, what can you tell us about this thing?”
“It’s not alive—it’s magic made.” Angelique clenched her jaw and tucked her chin, but no matter how she prodded the monster with her magical senses, she couldn’t make out much more than that.
Aldelbert thrust his spear into the construct’s side as it galloped past him. The construct screeched to a halt, digging its thick feet into the ground so it left ditches behind. It lunged around and slammed its massive fists on the ground, making it tremble.
Wendal flexed his fingers, and his daggers appeared, pinched between his fingers. “Any idea how to stop it?”
Angelique squinted at the monster and risked putting a little more power behind her magical senses, trying to see if more power would crack the muffled feeling she got from the construct. When her senses expanded, it hit the creature and bounced off as if smacking against a wall.
There’s a spell on that thing that’s repelling me. Did the rogue mage figure out someone with magic was helping Snow White?
“I’m trying to figure that out,” Angelique said. “It’s much stronger than the previous constructs. It can take both damage and light—the rogue mage put a lot more effort into this thing.”
Rupert raised his sword and settled back on his heels. “You don’t say?”
Oswald threw himself onto the creature’s back, hoisting himself up so he stood on its shoulder blades. “Just die!” He stabbed his sword between the construct’s shoulder blades again and again.
The monster didn’t react visibly to Oswald’s attack. It swayed on its feet for a moment, then heaved itself backwards, slamming its back into the ground.
Oswald leaped off it just barely in time, narrowly avoiding being crushed.
Fine. So the mage that made it actually protected the construct this time. That might work to my advantage if I can trace the mage through their own spell.
Angelique was vaguely aware of Fritz and Rupert attacking the construct as it flipped to its feet, moving before they could strike.
Oswald staggered away from the struggle. “Holy haybales, that thing is fast.”
Gregori scowled as he shot another bolt at the monster, this time hitting it in the face. “It also appears to have no weaknesses.”
Angelique, despite being in the middle of trying to think of a tracking spell that could trace magic and not a person—she’d specialized in tracking spells for people, after all, and was finding her mind woefully blank of any other kind of tracing spell—couldn’t let that comment go.
“That’s impossible,” she shouted. “Every type of magic has weaknesses and tradeoffs.”
The construct rushed Gregori, but it awkwardly sidestepped when Marzell threw an axe and struck it on the side of its head.
Marzell warily backed up. “If that’s so, it’s not an obvious one.”
“Snow White, do you see any possible way to kill it?” Fritz shouted back to her.
Snow White unfortunately stepped closer to Angelique—which would make it that much harder to use magic without the clever princess noticing. “No,” Snow White said. “Its exterior seems impermeable, but it moves fast when usually that would logically make it slower.”
I can attack it magically, as long as I pretend its herb magic. I’ll have time to think of an excuse later. Angelique glanced curiously down at Snow White, then ripped an herb sprig off her satchel.
The construct whirled around on its short legs, smashing its long arms into Rupert—sending the warrior flying.
Aldelbert jabbed his spear at the construct’s gut, and the construct grabbed at him, its craggy fingers grasping for his body.
Wendal smoothly stepped in. He threw a dagger that hit the creature in its eye socket. The weapon’s blade was too thick to puncture its eye; instead, it was jammed in the hole.
Aldelbert grinned at his friend. “Nice shot, Wendal!”
Wendal narrowed his eyes and made a tsking noise. “It did nothing, though.”
Angelique was still mentally paging through what kind of tracking spell she could use to follow the mage’s power—she’d focused on spells that tracked a person, not a magical imprint— so she was only half paying attention when the monster smacked itself on the back of the head, dislodging Wendal’s dagger.
“I don’t know about this,” Snow White murmured.
“There is one bright side to all this.” Marzell chucked his remaining axe at the monster. It struck it at the knee joint, but it only clipped the creature and bounced off instead of digging in.
“What’s that?” Oswald grumbled. “It hasn’t damaged our home?”
“No.” Marzell sprinted for the far side of the cottage and scooped up a mace the warriors had been using to prop open a shutter. “It does not seem to be targeting Snow White.”
True. I’d say that’s another indicator the rogue mage knows she’s not alone and is being more deliberate in this strike.
“Quite right!” Aldelbert rolled his shoulders back with a laugh, then rushed the construct. He ducked past its arms, bringing him to a stop beneath its chest and belly. He stabbed his spear upwards, heaving with his entire body.
The construct contorted so it leaned on its arms, then kicked Aldelbert with enough force to flip him head over heels.
Aldelbert smashed into a stack of firewood, scattering logs everywhere.
Wendal darted around so he stood between the blonde-haired lord and the construct. “Are you badly injured, My Lord?”
Aldelbert gurgled and his muscles twitched, but after a few moments, he managed to take a wheezing inhale and waved Wendal’s concern off.
Oswald and Fritz converged on the construct, stabbing at its abdomen.
The construct lumbered back on its legs, then bunched its claws into fists and swung them at the pair.
Fritz dodged and rushed around to the construct’s back, stabbing it there as the warriors tried to find a weak spot. Oswald also ducked the punch, but he had to retreat when the construct swung around to face Fritz.
Angelique finally settled on a tracing spell, a basic one she only vaguely remembered. Puss had actually been the one to teach it to her when, as a demonstration against the hypothetical situation of needing to trace the magic signature of an enchanted item across the city, she’d opted to call a swarm of bees and attempted to imprint them with the item’s magic signature. Puss had not been pleased. (He’d yowled most of the spell at her in between swatting bees out of the air.)
The tracing spell consisted of one long, ribbon-like structure constructed from magic and folded in loops, which would unwind once set upon a target.