I edge to my left. His monstrous body moves with me. The greenhouse is large but bare. There is nothing to place between me and the creature Ronin has become.

The whole of his eyes, whites and all, darken to glistening black and then fracture into the unsettling impression of multiple eyes. The roots of his hair bleed into red, the color spreading across his temples like veins. Thick crimson stripes streak the Spinner’s abdomen up through the sides of his human chest.

He towers over me, his Spinner legs lifting him to more than twice my height. Each of his fingers extends into a clawed point, tinted the same dark red as if dipped in paint. Every instinct I possess demands that I flee. I cannot win this fight. How could I ever hope to defeat this?

But I am the only person who knows Ronin’s secret—that he’s using the Soulless as a talisman to amplify and alter his own magic. If I don’t stop him here, if I die, then Ronin will destroy everything and everyone I hold dear. Peace at the cost of utter destruction.

I twirl my swords, an invitation that Ronin doesn’t hesitate to accept. He strikes fast, claws slashing. I deflect with my swords, momentarily surprised when his transformed fingers scrape against my blade like steel.

Diving low, I block the deadly jab of his claws and skid beneath his abdomen. My blades cut across his underbelly. He staggers, but his Spinner’s armored skin is too thick. He turns with the agility of a spider a tenth his size, exposing me. His claws rake down my arm, drawing blood, as I roll away and dash for the columns.

The columns are tall and thick. I slide behind one, Ronin on my heels. His legs slam against the floor-to-ceiling windows. What panels remain on this side of the greenhouse shudder dangerously, cracks shooting through the glass. The space between the wall and column is too narrow for his body, but his claws hack at the stone. Dust and debris shower the musty air.

I allow myself a few heartbeats to gather my breath. Then I leap into the open, blades slicing across the claws that protect his vulnerable human torso. My body spins and dips, my feet and swords in constant motion as I dodge his many-legged reach.

Ducking another attack, I return my swords smoothly into their sheaths as I drop into a roll. My hands clutch one of his furred legs. The spider hairs are thick and coarse. My boots slam into his side for more momentum as I flip onto the Spinner’s back.

He whirls violently, nearly throwing me off, but I wrap an arm around his human waist. I reach over my shoulder and slide one sword free, angling the blade to stab his exposed side.