The collision split the courtyard in two.
Rakshar slammed into the Golem. The front claws drove into the stone of its chest. The impact echoed against the walls. The Golem stepped back. Its root-feet gripped the ground. Rakshar pushed. Three meters of wolf pushing against a mountain. The mountain gave.
Its back arched. Its jaws opened. A roar tore from its throat, vibrating inside Varkas's chest.
—Show me the center!
The claws shredded the stone. The cracks spread. A blue electric light pulsed deep inside, like a heart trapped in rock. Rakshar drove its claw into the wound. The fingers grazed the heat of the core.
The Golem swung a horizontal blow. The mass of stone whistled past. Rakshar leapt back. The fist struck the ground. The crater spread. Shards flew.
Rakshar landed on all fours. Shook the dust from its back. The tail swept the ground. Its chest rose and fell. It waited.
The core pulsed red.
A column of fire erupted from the Golem's chest. Rakshar twisted in the air. The flames licked its flank. The black fur bristled. It landed to one side. The ground shook. It shook the smoke from its back. It growled.
—Not hot enough.
The core pulsed blue and brown. Water and earth.
A torrent of thick mud launched forward. Rakshar jumped left. The mud grazed its tail and smashed into the ground. It hardened instantly. A slab of solidified earth. If it caught him, he wouldn't move again.
Rakshar snorted. Stepped back. Its ears flattened. Its breathing grew heavier.
A lance of light crossed the courtyard.
It struck the Golem's shoulder. The stone punctured. The core flickered. Rakshar didn't turn. Zareth landed to its left. Daggers in hand. Lyra a few meters back, staff raised. The white crystal smoked.
Rakshar didn't look at them. Still fixed on the Golem, claws buried in the stone. Breathing heavy. The only sound was the creak of rock splitting.
—It's possessed, —said Zareth.
Lyra lowered the staff for a moment. She closed her eyes. Her chest rose and fell. Her fingers trembled against the crystal. She opened her eyes.
—It won't answer us.
—I don't need it to answer. I need it to open.
Lyra raised the staff. A white flash burst across the Golem's face. The red points flickered. The roots thrashed without direction.
Rakshar threw itself onto the Golem's back. The claws drove into the cracks in the chest. It pulled. The stone groaned. A rain of shards fell to the ground.
Zareth vanished. Blue trail. Reappeared at the right knee. The daggers sank between the roots. Cut them. The Golem staggered.
Rakshar drove its claw deeper. The fingers grazed the blue pulse. It paused for a moment. Ears forward. Breathing slower, denser. The heart of the rock. What kept the thing alive.
—The core.
It closed its fingers around it. Pulled.
The Golem convulsed entirely. The roots of the chest closed around Rakshar's arm. They squeezed down to the bone. Rakshar struggled. Pulled. The roots didn't give. A howl tore from its throat.
—Let me go!
The Golem raised the trapped arm. Lifted Rakshar into the air. Slammed it against the ground. Once. The fur crushed against the stone. Rakshar growled. Again. The ribs cracked. The transformation flickered. The black fur receded for an instant. Varkas surfaced beneath the beast. The red eyes turned grey.
The third time, the Golem let go.
Varkas was thrown clear. Human. The dragon armor destroyed. He rolled across the ground and lay face up. He didn't move for a moment. His chest rose and fell. Blood in his mouth. He spat on the ground. The fingers of his right hand were still gripping Rakshar.
—Come back, —he murmured.
The blade didn't answer.
Varkas touched his ribs with his left hand. Something cracked. He pulled the fingers away, stained. He pressed his palm to the ground and pushed himself up. His legs trembled. His left arm hung loose.
The Golem straightened. The core pulsed with all four colors at once. Red, blue, brown, green. A storm gathered in its chest. The ground trembled. The walls groaned. A distant tower began to lean.
Lyra raised the staff. A veil of light wrapped around Zareth.
Kára arrived from the right flank. Kazak'Thur raised high. Draven behind her, chest heaving. Kára drove the hammer into the ground. An electric barrier covered her. She leaned on the handle for a second. Her legs were failing.
Draven stopped in front of Varkas. With nothing. His back against a fallen stone. Sweat running down his forehead. He said nothing. He just stood there.
—It's not going to be enough, —said Kára.
Varkas saw it. Saw the storm growing. Saw his allies scattered. Saw Draven standing in front of him with nothing.
He raised his right hand. Palm open.
The Grimoire activated.
A certainty. A knowledge that had always been there. Not a voice. Not a call. Something opening.
Amber light burst from his chest.
A dome of golden energy expanded from his body. Solid. Impenetrable. Veins of light ran through it like rivers of fire. The ground inside the dome lit up. Zareth, Lyra, Kára, Draven. All inside. A warmth that didn't burn.
The Golem's attack hit.
Fire, water, stone, wind. All at once. An annihilation. The courtyard outside the dome melted. The distant tower split in two and collapsed onto the east wing. But inside, nothing. The veins of light flickered. The dome shook. It didn't break.
Varkas, at the center. Standing. Still. The mana draining out of him in torrents. Eyes half-shut. Breathing, a thread. His legs trembled. He didn't move.
—He's using everything, —said Kára. She leaned on Kazak'Thur.
Lyra lowered the staff for a moment. Her arm felt heavy. She raised it again.
—He can't move. If he moves, the dome falls.
—Then we don't leave him alone, —said Zareth.
The attack faded. The Golem's core was exposed. No light. Spent. The blue pulse barely visible.
—Now, —said Zareth.
Lyra raised the staff. The light concentrated in the crystal. Small. Then blinding. The staff trembled. She aimed at the Golem's chest.
—Judgement.
A pillar of light fell from the sky. It passed through the Golem from top to bottom. The stone exploded. The roots burned to ash. The core cracked. Split in two. The blue pulse went out.
Zareth appeared on the Golem's chest. Daggers raised. He drove them into the crack. Pushed. The core shattered into splinters.
The red points flickered. Went dark.
The mass leaned. Struck the ground with a thunderclap that lifted dust and ash. It didn't move again.
The dome went out.
Varkas fell.
Kára ran. She knelt. Her knees cracked against the stone. She pressed two fingers to his neck. The pulse was faint. Barely a whisper beneath the skin.
—He's alive.
Zareth landed beside her. He looked at Varkas. The deformed ribs. The back covered in bruises. The face stained with blood and dust. Zareth looked at his own hand. He had Varkas's blood on his fingers. He wiped it on the stone.
—Get him out of here, —he said.
—And you? —asked Lyra. The staff hung from her arm.
Zareth looked toward the main tower. The castle was burning. Explosions kept reverberating high above. Up there, Darian was still fighting.
—I'm going to finish this.
He adjusted his daggers. The hot wind moved his cloak. He leapt toward the battlements. Blue trail. He was gone.
Kára held Varkas's head. Lyra knelt on the other side. Draven stayed standing, leaning against the fallen stone. His chest rose and fell. Silence returned to the courtyard.
—Hold on, —said Kára—. Not yet.
Varkas didn't answer.
But he breathed.