When the gyration of his body and flailing of his arms stops, Lexi thinks they’ve crashed into one of the room’s walls. Her ankles cross and she almost loses her footing as both of their bodies halt in midstruggle. Then his growling ceases and his body stiffens.

Lexi looks up, squinting through their tangled limbs. The expression is frozen on his face as if his head were a bust of human rage itself. Taru stands behind him. They jerk his body away and disengage the attacker from Lexi. She rolls away and finds herself falling onto the floor.

She looks up and watches as Taru thrusts the tip of their blade out through the man’s chest, lifting him a foot from the floor. With great strength, Taru steps forward and shoves the man free of their blade. His body is hurled over the top of the table, landing with enough force to crack the top of it down the center.

Taru is holding their blooded short sword in one hand and their hook-end in the other. It’s the first time Lexi has seen her Gen’s retainer out of armor. Taru is wearing only a long nightshirt and boots. Their chest rises and falls with every shallow breath brought on by the exertion and rush of battle.

“Te-Gen, are you—” Taru begins to say before all their senses come to bear on a stirring by the window.

The second assassin, the one Lexi brained with her reed, has regained consciousness, albeit a diminished form. A shocking amount of blood has drained from his left temple and pooled around his neck. He uses the shaft of his spear to pull him to his feet.

“Sneaky bitch,” he curses groggily.

“Stand and face me!” Taru commands him in a voice whose power makes even Lexi shudder.

The lanky one looks up, blinking against the harshness of the lamplights until he finally sees Taru.

“Oh, fuck me.”

He raises his spear and immediately thrusts it into Taru’s face, only to watch Taru effortlessly move their head from the weapon’s path. He takes several more quick jabs, and each time Taru either feints or knocks the head of the spear away with their sword.

With a cry of frustration, the lanky one rears back several steps and springs forward with twice the force behind his thrust, attempting to skewer Taru through their middle. Instead Taru envelops the shaft of the weapon with their hook-end, trapping it between the opposite planes of the blade. The lanky man, teeth clenched and grinding in frustration, pull and jerks at the spear. It’s as if he’s buried the tip in solid stone.

Taru draws their short-sword-wielding arm across their chest.

“Taru, wait!” Lexi calls to them. “We need to question him—”