The rune on her stomach gave one last feeble pulse and the puppet rushed her again. It attacked her with a series of savage blows that she did her best to block and parry in tortoise stance, but she could feel her runes slowing down. She had to pull and pull to keep up with the puppet, and eventually it knocked her with its hard shoulder, once again sending her soaring and tumbling to the ground.

Her head bounced off the grass, reminding her painfully of her fight with the bandits in the alley. The way the stars flashed in front of her eyes had her recalling the bright light of Queyor’s Magic Lantern when she’d used it to blind her foes. But she couldn’t blind a puppet.

Though she could blind the puppeteer . . .

Yes! He needed to see her to attack her. Magic lanterns would not work in the bright light of day, but if she could somehow block his line of sight she would force him to move and give himself away. Yenni struggled to her feet, leaning on her spear and making a great show of being injured, and it wasn’t all an act. Her bones ached but she pulled on pain ward, fell into aggressive lion stance, and charged the rune puppet.

It met her charge, sword raised, but at the last moment she dove and rolled, bounding up, against all instincts, right behind the puppet, the drape of its cloak shielding her. It jerked and stopped as the puppeteer lost sight of her, and Yenni strained to listen to the sounds of the wood. Praises upon praises to lucky Ib-e-ji there was no breeze that day, so the faint rustling at the other side of the clearing must be her attacker.

She dragged on her speed runes and darted between the stuttering puppet’s legs, under the cloak, and dashed for the edge of the clearing, chasing the sound. And when once more the puppet loomed in front of her, appearing from nowhere, she channeled swift gazelle and spun, flowing past it before finally bursting into the trees with a cry. A hooded figure jumped up from between two soaring trunks, startled, and took off into the woods.

“You won’t get away this time!” Yenni snarled. She raised her spear, dragged on the last of her strength runes, took practiced aim, and hurled it.

A deep yell echoed through the trees.

Yenni ran after the cry and found the puppeteer limping through the trees, gripping his thigh. Her spear had cut but not pierced him, and lay on the ground nearby. She dashed to him and tackled him to the ground, ignoring his agonized scream, then yanked the hood from his head.

And reeled.