Grimm Boll was silent for a long time. Marvel barely heard him over the snakes when he finally spoke. "I put them there. The cellar door is impenetrable to anything short of a Grandmaster's power. Or at least, it was, until you broke it." A puzzled frown dragged at the man's features. "How could you have opened it? You're just a Novi—"
"You brought them here." Marvel finally rose to his feet, his knees threatening to buckle. "Why would you do that?"
Grimm shrugged. "I needed golem's blood to fulfill an order. I had a Catcher get one and bring it here."
Marvel whirled on him. "That's illegal! You could have gotten someone hurt! You will get someone hurt! Everybody in this town could die because of you."
Grimm Boll said nothing, his expression unreadable.
"I should report you to the Concl—"
The words were scarcely out of his mouth when the dagger in the Enchanter's hand pressed against his throat.
"Don't try to threaten me, ," spat Grimm Boll. "You want to report this? Fine. How about I report the fact that you ate a bloody golem and apparently can open things even Grandmasters can't?"
Marvel glared at him. "Clearly your work wasn't good enough—"
Grimm scoffed. "My work is always flawless. And you want to report me to your precious Academy?" He gave a dry, brittle laugh. "Who do you think ordered me to use golem's blood in the first place?"
No. That couldn't be true. The Academy would never ask for an object enchanted with golem's blood, no matter how powerful it might be. That was insane. Grimm Boll had to be lying. Yet—what had Baylin said?
Nobody who becomes a mage enjoys being weak.
"Are you going to kill that golem or not?" Grimm Boll asked harshly.
"Why do you keep calling it a 'golem?" Marvel asked, his temper flaring from confusion, fear, and ever-growing hunger. "They're just snakes. First Circle at most. Maybe a field fire spell—"
Marvel stopped. Grimm Boll had gone completely pale. He wasn't looking at Marvel anymore.
Following the Enchanter's gaze, Marvel choked.
The thing on the other side of the barrier was definitely not a First Circle golem. Whatever it was, Marvel had never come across it in any of Baylin's books.
A good number of the snakes had merged together to create an abomination.
It stood a foot taller than a Grandmaster and was twice as wide. It had a head and an armless torso. Its face had no eyes, ears, or other features—only a mouth filled with gaping fangs. From the waist down, a dozen tentacles made of intertwined snakes curled and uncurled. Scattered over its body were golden coin eyes and fangs the size of Marvel's fingers, ready to fill a man with venom in minutes.
Marvel almost threw up.
"Satis' balls," Marvel swore under his breath.
Grimm Boll grunted in agreement.
"Where is she? Aisling?" Marvel asked weakly.
"In the house," Grimm said. "She won't come out here. It's hard to find your way out of there if I don't want you to. And this thing can't get in unless I want it to."
It was probably for the best that Aisling was out of danger. She might have a higher rank than he did, but Marvel doubted she would survive a fight with this thing. He couldn't tell what Circle it was. He didn't even know what it was.
"Something new cooked up by some crazy warlock, probably," Grimm Boll muttered.
Marvel didn't know how to fight this. He didn't know what to do.
Am I going to die here?
"Go into the house," Marvel said. "Tell Aisling to send a fire call to the Academy."
Grimm frowned. "You said you could kill it—"
"Do I look like I can kill it?" Marvel snapped. "Get in the house. I'll try to buy time. I'll—" He swallowed. "I'll try to handle it. You just make sure you and Aisling are safe."
Grimm geared up to protest, but Marvel cut him off. "Don't argue with me! Which one of us is the mage here?"
Grimm hesitated, then nodded. He placed a hand on Marvel's shoulder. "Don't die, kid."
Marvel said nothing to that. He listened as Grimm's footsteps faded. Then he called out before Grimm got too far. "Hey." Grimm's steps paused. "If I survive, you owe me."
Not really. Grimm wanted Marvel to fight this thing in return for keeping what he saw to himself. But dammit, if he was doing this, he was going to ask for more than that.
"Sure, Honoured One," Grimm said, a hint of mockery in his voice. "Whatever you want."
And then he was gone. Marvel didn't stop him.
Facing the barrier, Marvel watched cracks begin to appear in the red shield as the snake golem slammed its tentacles against it. Each crack made Marvel flinch. Each blow made him want to change his mind and join Aisling and Grimm in the house.
But he stood his ground.
"Tell me you're not still sulking," Marvel said to his athar. "This would be a pretty good time to freeze everything again."
He got no answer. He thought about asking it to consume the golem, to erase it completely. But it was too risky—he might not be able to stop it, and Aisling was close enough to be erased too.
"I'm sorry, alright?" he begged. "Baylin said you'd keep me safe. Your master wants me safe. Shouldn't you keep me safe?"
The shadows in his head reassured him they'd bring him back to life after it was all over. All he had to do was endure a very painful death first.
"I command you to help me!" Marvel summoned every bit of will he had. "I am your master, and you will do what I say!"
Nothing. Gods, the athar really intended for him to die again.
A rumble shook the ground as the cracks in the barrier shuddered with each slam of the golem's tentacles. It would soon break through. Kill Marvel. Kill everyone else. Kill until the Academy sent mages to put it down.
I'm not going to die.
But how? How could he escape this time? The only things he'd learned as a mage were athar detection and cycling—hardly battle spells. And it wasn't like his athar was going to cooperate. The golem was going to eat him alive. Unless... Unless...