The rumble of the collapse had barely faded when the other battle flared up again, amplified by the confined space. The horned beast, trapped with them, seemed to understand its isolation and drew from it a redoubled rage. Every movement was a hurricane of pure violence.
Maggie felt the change immediately, like a bucket of ice water thrown over the searing embers of her surge. The infernal heat that had driven her for ten minutes—ten minutes already stolen from her own body—began to retract. Not like a flame dying softly, but like molten metal solidifying in an instant, weighing down every limb, every muscle, every bone.
It was worse than fatigue. It was an internal petrification. Her body, a feather swept away by a hurricane just moments earlier, became an anvil. Her arms, which had wielded the halberd with deadly grace, suddenly trembled under the weight of the weapon. She had to grip the shaft with both hands, her numbed fingers struggling to obey.
No. Not yet. Not now.
