The ice-thing screamed, a high, keening sound like shivering crystal. It reared up on its back legs and came down heavily on the barrier, slamming its three-spiked tail forward at the same time. The impact drove Alice to her knees, her vision going gray for a moment. She tasted blood in her mouth, and realized she’d bitten her tongue. Just a little more . . .

Something behind her gave a weird ripping sound, like a wire twanging under high tension, and then broke with a snap like a gunshot. It was followed by a spitting, crackling shower of sparks, which lit up the darkened room and fell all around Alice like tiny fireworks. She turned to look at the ward she’d laid on the boulder, but only for a moment. The magical script was glowing brighter than the sun at midday, and Alice had to slap her hands over her eyes. She could see the bones of her fingers, outlined against the orange flesh, and her vision was full of purple and green afterimages.

Then, with another twang and crackle of sparks, the light show ended as suddenly as it had begun. Alice gasped with relief as the power stopped flowing out of her, though she was still breathing hard and shivery with fatigue. She lowered her hands to see thick black smoke pouring up out of the ruined ward, pooling under the ceiling.

“Reader!” Flicker said.

Alice turned. The barrier was fading, the last few scraps of white light disappearing as she watched. Behind them, the bluechill stretched itself out, legs kicking through the extinguished pool of oil, then turned slowly until it faced in their direction.

Just once, Alice thought as it gave that keening crystal cry of rage, it would be nice if something went according to plan.

Alice wrapped the Swarm thread around herself and pulled on Spike’s thread in a single, practiced mental motion.

“Find somewhere to hide!” Alice shouted to Flicker. “I’ll draw it away.”

She couldn’t tell if the fire-sprite heard her. The blue-chill thundered toward them, rippling legs a blur as it went into a sprint, the sound of ice on ice rising to a tortured shriek. Alice tensed, then threw herself sideways with all of Spike’s strength, tucking into a tight ball and rolling like a swarmer until she bounced off the wall and popped back to her feet.

She’d expected the creature to follow the motion, but instead it went straight for the boulder where she’d laid the ward, shoving the weird collection of feathery icicles at the still-smoking parchment.

The heat, Alice realized belatedly. When the ward had broken, the writing had briefly glowed white-hot. For the bluechill, that heat was food. It won’t last long, though, compared to the bonfire—Oh, no. The creature backed away from the boulder, moving slowly, and turned directly away from Alice. Flicker.