Cael drove forward on my call like a door ram. Aura ran down his spine into the ground and back up. Verrin tried to twist out. Cael rode the twist, pinned a thigh with his knee, and turned the motion into a clamp.
I went high.
Hollow pecked the wand tip—tap, tap—locking timing. Marrow cut at his heel, not to maim, to make him set his foot where Cael wanted it. When his boot hit, Cael shifted weight. The floor felt like a trap closing.
He snapped the wand at my face. I slid my cheek past the cut. The sabre's guard hammered his knuckles. Hollow bit the tip and shoved it a thumb-width off line.
"Cuff," Cael grunted.
"Better," I said.
I tore two plates off the Warden's belly and crossed them with a thong—a clamp, not a ring. "Arm."
Cael shifted without giving a gap. Verrin swung. I gave him forearm, not jaw, slipped the cross over his wrist and thumb, and cinched. The knot tightened under strain.
"Illegal," he hissed.
"Not lethal," I said. "Don't move."
