disappointment. Impressively, he held the shield pressed against the wall with a foot, balanced on one leg, and swiped four hand axes from a nearby weapons rack.
Still balancing on one leg, Aldelbert threw the axes with enough force that they bit through the wooden shield and dug into the plaster walls of the cottage, “nailing” the shield to the wall.
Marzell cracked his whip, tearing it through a construct. “That is remarkably effective.”
“It won’t matter if these monsters’ numbers don’t start thinning.” Gregori stepped back to avoid the grasping arm of a construct, then shot the magic-made creature in the chest. He casually grabbed the crossbow bolt before it could fall after the construct faded into smoke, then reloaded it and shot at one of the constructs crowding the windows.
It seems the warriors work together remarkably well, Angelique noted as Fritz and Rupert exchanged places so Fritz stood with Snow White and Rupert advanced on the windows.
Which is good, given that these constructs continue to attack without us seemingly making a dent in their numbers. I don’t want to use my core magic, but will I need to? Unless, should I call for Pegasus instead? He must have returned to the sky, or he would have been here by now.
Angelique eyed the door and wondered how far she could let the fight go before needing to take drastic measures. “If these constructs really have that great of numbers, perhaps we ought to reinforce the door. It is broken, after all.”
“And whose fault is that?” Oswald snapped.
“She’s right,” Marzell said. “Fritz—reinforce the door.”
Fritz picked up a table bench—with one hand—but he was a moment too late.
The door frame shivered and buckled, then the door itself snapped off its hinges and fell inside with a teeth-jarring thump.
“Now that is going to be a pain to fix,” Angelique said.
Fritz flung the bench through the open door, cutting through the three constructs clawing their way inside.
Unfortunately, more constructs stepped in to take their place. They stormed the cottage, surging inside with chilling agility.
Together, Fritz and Rupert sliced through them. There was a clear difference between the warriors’ fighting styles: Rupert was methodical and used traditional stances while Fritz moved in a never-ceasing flow, lunging forward in an upper-cut, then dodging to the side and stabbing a construct from behind.
Marzell (striking a construct with every snap of his whip) and Gregori (shooting bolt after bolt) tried to stem the rush of constructs, but there were too many.
Oswald hurriedly shoved a giant copper pot into the broken window he’d been guarding before he ran to help Rupert and Fritz.
A construct got past the wall the warriors made and lunged at Snow White—its mouth growing freakishly large.
Snow White—armed with her fire poker—tried to stab it, but it avoided the fire poker and pounced.
“No!” Snow White jumped backwards, stepping to the side of the fireplace.
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