The constructs never screamed or showed any sign of pain, but it jerked backward, letting its arcane shield soak the brunt of the fire. Meanwhile, I whipped my gaze to the second construct. It was already bounding over the flames I'd laid down, landing with a resounding clang behind me. The metal clang reverberated up my spine, a stark reminder of how cornered we were becoming. I angled the Psychokinesis Pen behind my back, using a wave of force to push it away before it could land a blow.
In the swirl of heat and flickering shadows, I noticed the corridor lights dimming momentarily. Kyrion must have managed to snuff out one of the scrying nodes. That gave me a second of relative anonymity, a moment to shift positions without broadcasting every detail to the entire fortress. Good. Every edge counted.
