A construct leapt over the soldiers in front of them, landing on Phalue’s back. She ducked and heaved, tossing the beast over her shoulders. It landed in front of her but scrambled to its feet before Phalue could finish it off. It rushed toward her and she swept her cloak in front of her. Rows and rows of narrow, needle-sharp teeth sunk into the oilskin cloak.

She might very well die fulfilling this order.

Phalue jerked her cloak back, taking the creature sliding along the ground with it. Tythus, next to her, thrust his sword into the beast’s chest.

“Thanks,” Phalue panted out.

But Tythus was already turning, facing down a group of shamblers that had pushed their way through a gap wrought by the war constructs. On her right, another soldier died, his throat ripped out by a construct. Phalue swung her sword at the creature and it jumped back, snarling at her with bloody jaws. She cut a slash across one of its eyes and it screamed. One more thrust and the beast died.

She pivoted to help Tythus with the shamblers. They fought in lockstep with one another, all their years of sparring together lending them each insight into one another’s movements. They swept through the shamblers like farmers cutting down wheat. She cut the last one down and found… no more enemies pressing at their flanks. There were more coming, but for now there was a lull and there was time to breathe.

“Are you hurt?” she asked Tythus.

He shook his head, shoving wet, loose hair back from his face with a gloved hand. “You?”

She glanced down at herself, unsure. “Maybe. I don’t think so.”

He laughed, the sound a bit manic. “Didn’t think it would be like this, did you?”

“I don’t know what I thought.” She peered into the darkness, trying to judge numbers by lamplight. The constructs moved like mud loosened from a hillside, flowing inexorably toward the gates. “I think we can do this, though. I think we’ll hold the gates.” She thought she saw the dim light of dawn on the horizon, the stars winking out. It somehow seemed like it had been too long before morning and also not long enough. Time had lost all meaning. All that mattered was the ache in her muscles, the pounding of her heart. They meant she was still alive.

“Aye,” Tythus said. “I think you’re right. Long odds, but it looks like the Emperor has been changing them.”

Had she really promised the woman she’d teach her how to swordfight? The Emperor? Phalue shook her head. A problem for a different dawn.