Significance let out an appreciative breath. “Oh, that’s nice.” Xe stooped, and patted very lightly at Orfeus’s cheek. “I must find this clever friend of yours.”

Panic spiked in her. “Heat,” she snarled. She concentrated it not just in her fingertips, but glowing fierce through all of her. As hot as she could make it, as fast as she could make it. She turned herself into a supernova.

Significance stumbled back a few steps. “Come now!” xe protested.

Orfeus was protected from the heat of her own Blood, but not from the metal of the chair if she heated it too far. She strained hard at the bonds, gritting her teeth, pain and fire in every inch of her. The other cuff snapped through.

It was easier to unclasp the latches at her feet now. She got them both, but the second one seared and burned at her fingertips unbearably. Not her hands, not her hands.

Not her life. Just the next few minutes and then she could worry, warriors couldn’t worry.

She was aching and in pain, but still herself. She twisted her fingers and felt the lack of heat like a rush of cold water. O’Hallow cocked xyr head, and she had perhaps a moment. Xe was certainly augmented, all the usual Elder gifts as well as whatever else xe had cooked up for the Order. Xe was five steps away. But she only needed to move three.

Three steps, and xe was nearly on her, but Orfeus snatched up the earring from the table and fumbled it to her ear, jerking back. Significance’s fingers skimmed past her throat, and she put her fingers to the earring. A sting of pain that barely registered.

Orfeus gasped out, “Help me.”

And then Significance clicked xyr fingers, and she jolted in pain as electricity passed through her, her muscles locking up. O’Hallow stepped forward and closed xyr fingers around her earring, then ripped it from her ear. Orfeus turned her head automatically to follow the direction it fell, and Significance hit her in the face.

Significance was slight and slender, with the build of an artist or a priest. Xe hit her hard enough that she flew back three metres and landed hard on the ground.

Orfeus crashed to the ground and breathed out hard, winded. She lay there and for a moment couldn’t get up again. But she had to.

She hauled herself into a sitting position, and shook her head hard to try and clear it. Her hair was caked in blood. She breathed out, then tore at her pantleg, already nearly burned through by the cuff. A strip tore off easy enough, and she wrapped it around her inner arm with its small puncture, just tight enough to keep it from bleeding. It seemed only a trickle, but she needed to not bleed out.