They dropped him. He managed to get one arm out to break his fall but still it knocked the breath from him. He looked up, expecting to see them fall upon him with bared teeth and clawed hands.

One of them had gone to its knees and raised its hands to its ears. He only saw from the back, but he could hear the crackle of crunching stone, and the thing's skin turned from pale pink to gray, hair hardening and snapping from its scalp. The creature whined slightly, trying to shout through flesh becoming less and less responsive, and its fingers closed in like the legs of a dying spider. One of them snapped off and bounced from its shoulder.

Ramus rolled onto his stomach and looked behind him. The other thing was there on its knees, hands down by its sides. Its body beneath the ragged clothes was cool, gray and hard, and he was sure it must be dead. But then its eyes grew wider in a look of delayed shock, and the gray tide flowed up from its neck and painted its head as stone. Hair stopped swaying in the breeze, three of the thing's teeth shattered and its eyes lost their depth.

Ramus took in a deep breath and stood. I did it. He grimaced against the pain in his knees and arms, closed his eyes when his head throbbed agonizingly several times. Not now, don't strike me down now, after I did that. He breathed deeply, started back toward the village, and the pain in his head faded to an ache.

He started running, his muscles finding strength from somewhere, and his compacted knees, creaking at every step, carried him as faithfully as ever.

As he entered the ruined village, one of the things came into view from behind a line of stark dead trees. Ramus shouted the words. It turned to flee, eyes going wide in shock, and he did not even stop to see it turn. As he dashed by he heard a sharp crack as something ruptured.

Ramus tried to ignore the effects of the steam breaths. He felt the movement beneath his feet again, heard the hissing of venting steam and tried to steer himself to the spot where the creatures had fallen upon them. He felt so dreadfully alone, and the power he had in those words removed him even further from the world. He barely knew himself anymore.

He saw one of the creatures before him, kneeling forward with blood dripping from its cleaved skull. Lulah's short knife was jammed into its throat. It was dead, but still he gave it a wide berth.

He thought of calling her name, but he did not know how many more were out there.

The Serian appeared from behind a low shrub. She must have been squatting, but she rose quickly to her full height, swinging the sword in an arc that would slice off the top of Ramus's skull.