Light came at me before the last head finished turning.
He was faster than he had any right to be on that knee, and the crimson in his eyes had gone from a lamp behind a window to the whole house on fire. I got Wren up by the exact width of my own good luck. The impact travelled through my forearms and into ribs that had already been rearranged once today, and I made a noise I am not proud of.
'He's stronger in here.'
The room is helping him.
'The room is made of it, Wren.'
I gave ground. Three steps, four, my boots skidding on stone that gave slightly underfoot like the skin over a knuckle.
And the whole time, the floor of that chamber was coming alive around me.
