The right Mauler tried to retreat toward the barracks, perhaps instinctively returning to the den, but Liam did not allow it. He threw a small flame burst against the ground behind its feet, forcing it forward again, and Asher finished it with a driving thrust beneath the jaw that pinned its head back long enough for the flame along the blade to burn through the throat.
For a moment, the courtyard seemed to open.
Dead and dying Maulers lay across the stones, dark fluid spreading into cracks. Scorch marks traced the ground where Asher had angled flames low. Frost clung to joints, roots, and patches of broken road where Kara's arrows had landed. Liam's breathing was faster now, controlled but no longer effortless. He had spent more Myst than he wanted, not much in any single movement, but enough that the total sat clearly in his awareness. Small fire bursts, Shadow Sight, shared vision with Wing, weapon summoning, constant adjustments. It added up. Not dangerous yet, but noticeable.
