She could see its runes glowing through the flames, and seconds later it was back on its feet and thrusting at her, still ablaze. Yenni flowed into gazelle stance, dancing and darting out of the way of the puppet’s sword strikes, even as it smothered the flames with its fire wards. She gritted her teeth in frustration; she didn’t have time for this! Anything could be happening to Weysh. He must be in serious danger to have left her side.

As she weaved and ducked, her runes warm on her skin, Yenni knew she could spend hours in this clearing and she would never defeat the puppet. Her runes would run out first, and it would kill her. She had to find the puppeteer.

“Come out, coward!” she screamed in Gunzu. “Don’t send a puppet to fight for you. Face me!”

Her taunt served only to set off the rune on her stomach, though now it was not more than a dull twinge—it was almost used up. But thanks to the warning, Yenni turned and slashed, deflecting a single metal dart coming at her from the back. She saw the trees rustle before she turned back to the puppet, just as it swung its long, wooden arm. It hit her in the middle like a log and sent her flying. She slammed down on the grass and wheezed, drawing heavily on pain ward until she could breathe again. When she finally jumped to her feet, the puppet stood a few paces away, clicking and clacking and jerking its strange head.

He’s playing with me!

Rage burned in the pit of her stomach. Yenni turned and attempted to dash into the woods, to try to find the cowardly puppeteer, but the puppet suddenly materialized right before her, slashing down with its sword. Yenni slipped into gazelle stance and darted back, the sword whizzing in front of her nose. Bright shock zipped through her; as far as she knew, the rune that allowed one to jump instantly from one place to another like that was known only to the Yirba—to her family and the Masters.

What?

The puppet disappeared, and she spun to find it behind her. Yenni stood panting and confused. That couldn’t be right. Why would her own tribe attack her?

No. She was mistaken. She must be. More than ever she needed to force the puppeteer to show himself. Her runes would not hold out much longer.

Think, think! Father Ri lend me your wisdom; Mother Ya lend me your fury—guide me!