Fritz stood, staring at the three hulking constructs and reassessing what strategies he and his crew could employ. It wasn't just the fact that there were more foes than he expected that gave him pause, though. No, it was that the sculpture's likenesses were of different animals. All of them were cast of green glass with gold veining each in a particular manner.

  In addition to the familiar, if not wholly identical, bull that Fritz had fought once before, there was a great, striped cat, a tiger if his memory served right, and a tall, thin-legged bird. The three glass beasts were situated in the centre of the circular room, which he searched for any further differences as he reconsidered his approach, and theorised other, more appropriate, tactics.

  The crew waited as he deliberated, their fear gradually growing and their unease creeping onto their faces.

  Toby was the first to catch Fritz's eye and signed a question. "Three? More than you thought?"

  Fritz nodded, grimacing. "Bad luck," he signalled back.

  "They're not attacking. Is it safe to speak or move?" Toby asked.

  Fritz spoke his answer this time. "Yes, it should be safe for now. As long as we don't walk too close or assault the beasts."

  His voice echoed oddly off the glass roof and walls, a ringing resonance lingering as his words mingled with the noise. The spears above chimed ominously, drawing the attention of all those below. They stared at the rattling roof, dreading a rain of the sharp spikes. Soon, the shuddering ceased.

  They all breathed a silent sigh of relief, then lowered their gazes to Fritz.

  "Maybe speak more quietly," Toby whispered.

  Fritz nodded. "My apologies. I didn't expect the glass to be so sensitive. It wasn't nearly so... resonant last time," he said, far more quietly.

  He himself wondered at the strange reaction, doubting it was simply the sensitivity as he had professed. Instead, he suspected that it was the Dusksong that his voice carried that had caused such a sonorous stir. Thinking so, he lightly smothered the power, pushing it away from his throat.

  "It's clearly not like last time. You said there was only going to be one or two statues. I can clearly count three," Mel observed with some irritation.

  "Correct. A mistake on my part," Fritz admitted. "Though it's hardly something I could have predicted with any certainty," he added mildly.

  "I guess that's true," Mel said, sighing.

  "Is that meant to be a giant heron?" Trudge asked, pointing at the sculpted bird.

  "I suppose so," Fritz said. "And it looks to be the most fragile of the beasts. We should shatter that one first, then crush the other two in swift succession."

  "Why is that? Shouldn't we destroy the strongest first?" Clover asked.

  "No, pick off the easiest to kill, then move on to the harder targets. Saves us from being flanked and swooped," Toby stated.

  "Quite correct," Fritz agreed. "Each one we crush is one we no longer have to account for. And so we should focus on one at a time. The only question is the order."

  "Bird, cat, bull?" Trudge suggested.

  Fritz scanned the statues further, taking in what he could from their appearances alone.

  The bull was the same, or mostly the same, it could have been a few inches taller, but stood, at a guess, around twice his height with horns that stretched another six feet higher. It was as broad as four men abreast and its hooves were the size of dinner plates. They were easily enough to pulverise a man’s skull with a careless kick or an effortless stomp.

  The bird, or rather, as Trudge had readily identified, heron, stood on spindly legs ending in vicious talons, and had a beak as long as a spear that had just as sharp a point. Though the heron was almost as tall as the very tips of the bull's horns, it lacked most of the other beast's bulk, being far more slender in comparison, rendering it less imposing.

  Fritz didn't dare discount the peril it likely hid. The strangeness of its gold stemmed, glass feathers, caught his interest, his attention and incited considerable apprehension. Their clear, green edges especially fascinated him and looked akin to razor blades. The bird was likely fleet of foot and wing, and certainly deadly. He prayed it couldn't fly.

  The tiger was huge, its shoulders easily reaching six feet in height. It sat like a cat, tail wrapped around great, striped forelimbs and hiding the enormity of the paws beneath. Golden eyes, slitted and steady, stared, slowly sliding over him and his crew in turn. It was awake, aware of the intruders and studying its foes exactly as Fritz himself was.

  A chill went down his spine, and he wondered if the sculpture was about to come to life and suddenly pounce before he had concocted an effective strategy. Its gaze flashed back to Fritz, locking with his own stare. He almost leapt backwards, but took control of himself and lazily seized Quicksilver's hilt, unwaveringly meeting those dimly glowing eyes, daring the beast to strike.

  Thankfully, it remained still and silent. Unmoving, just as statues should be.

  He didn't breathe a sigh of relief, though. Instead, he wiped away a bead of sweat that had appeared on his brow.

  When he turned back to his own crew, it was to see that they had each gone for their own blades and bludgeons, too. They held their weapons at the ready, eyes darting across each of the glass beasts.

  "Hold fast, lower your blades," Fritz both said and signed.

  They did so reluctantly.

  "The statues won't react until we get close or harm them," he added, repeating his previous claim and attempting to ease their worry. "Or so it seems."

  The crew did as he bade, but still kept the still beasts in their sights.

  "So what's the plan?" Toby asked.

  "First we slay the heron, then the bull, then, lastly, the tiger," Fritz explained. "Trudge, Mel and Reed will focus on the beasts in that order, while Toby and I distract the others. Clover, you will stay back, lending support with your Concussive Bolts and wielding that barrier rod if it looks as though someone may be struck."

  His reasoning was simple: the bird seemed the most fragile, its thin limbs and body were easiest to break. The bull, while tough and swift, was large, and its charge's predictability was a weakness and so it would be the next most simple to shatter. And finally, the tiger, though it looked heavy and likely to lumber, was a cat. A great one, but a cat nonetheless, with all the elusivity, cunning and quickness that was inherent to that kind. It would be the hardest to surround and strike, and best saved for last.

  "Which of the statues do you want me to distract?" Toby asked, loosening his shoulders by rolling them.

  "The tiger," Fritz said after considering it for a moment. "I'm more familiar with the bull, and I’ll need to keep an eye on it to spot its sudden rushes out of the walls."

  Toby set his lips in a grim line, but he nodded. Obviously, he thought he was being tasked to taunt the more deadly of the two beasts. Fritz silently agreed, though he knew it was the better plan.

  "Don't worry, I'll blind it for the first few seconds of the fight," Fritz said, waving one hand in a dismissive flourish.

  Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

  "Why don't we just have me and Trudge do the distracting?" Reed asked. "Isn't that what Defenders are meant to do?"

  "In most cases, you'd be right," Fritz acknowledged, tilting his head. "However, the bull's sheer might would break your bones on receiving a blow from it. And who knows how deadly the tiger and its claws would be against someone too slow to react."

  Reed nodded his understanding.

  "It is unfortunate, but Speed, Reflex and Awareness are the only way to defend against such beasts," Fritz lamented. Though he said it dramatically, he did believe it.

  "I do have Awareness," Reed said.

  "I know, but with your club, you'll be better suited to smashing the statues swiftly," Fritz agreed. "Once the bird is but broken shards, you will come to our aid."

  "Alright," Reed said, squeezing the grip of his buckler tightly.

  "Toby, do you have any blunt weapons to wield, or just those daggers?" Fritz asked.

  "I have a small club," Toby replied, pulling it from a loop on his belt.

  "Good, you'll need it," Fritz stated. "Though, remember, you only need distract the tiger. Don't feel you have to slay it on your own. Impressive as that would be, that's not your task. Just stay alive."

  Toby nodded. "I suppose you'll be doing the same."

  "Quite right," Fritz agreed airily. "I'll be calling out falling spikes and the bull's charge, so heed my orders well when the battle starts."

  "And when is that?" Mel asked, swapping out her shortsword for a hatchet-pick from her pack. She swung it slowly, testing its heft.

  "Clover will herald our charge with a Concussive Bolt when I command it," Fritz said. "Make ready."

  Before he gave the signal to attack, he went to each of the crew, giving each more precise orders than: "Focus on the bird."

  His directions were both brief and simple, easy to remember when the glass would fly, and the chaos of battle would unfold. He also repeatedly stressed the importance of holding to the plan and listening for his orders. While he could tell this repetition grated on the crew, he knew it would save their lives. If they heeded him.

  Once he had said all he needed to, he inspected the statues one last time, attempting to glean what he could. Extending his Awareness cautiously, he felt for any weaknesses or hidden perils. Fritz sensed nothing.

  While he hadn't expected to discover anything, there was no harm in the attempt.

  With little else left to do, Fritz drew his blades and stared at his foe in the distance. He raised his sword high, then let it fall.

  Clover's Bolt flew past him, the air rippled as the concussive force sped across the room and struck the bird in its puffed-out breast. Cracks quickly spread across the glass feathers, and many broke, the pieces falling to the ground in a shower of glittering shards.

  Mel, Reed and Trudge charged the bird as it swept open its large wings and raised its beak towards the roof. It chirped, the sound high and loud. The pricing note rang out, the roof hummed in answer, the spears above shook dangerously, but didn't yet fall.

  Toby darted toward the tiger as a blur of black, leaping into its shadow.

  Determined, Fritz rushed his own opponent. As he sprinted at the bull, he weaved an Illusory Shadow over the horned head, then the tiger's fanged face, smothering the sudden golden glow shining in both pairs of eyes.

  The illusions, two orbs of absolute darkness, clung to the glass constructs as they came to life.

  The Ability saved Toby an arm, though the man had been prepared for the tiger's pounce; he wasn't truly ready for its sheer swiftness. The sculpture had leapt, its surface flowing as if great muscles rippled underneath its transparent green and golden striped hide.

  If it could have kept Toby within its sight, it would have certainly caught him. As it was, it missed by a hair as the man ducked just under its outstretched claws and struck its exposed underside with a dagger and his club. The sharp edge screeched, leaving a thin white line on the hard hide. The scratch was superficial, though the club's following blow was far more substantial, leaving a circle of cracks where it struck.

  When the tiger landed, it was a storm of claws and snarling, swiping with terrible strength and horrifying speed. Toby was able to dodge, but only barely. Even blinded, the glass beast seemed to find the man through some other sense, and soon his cloak was torn into strips.

  Fritz felt he had underestimated the great cat and wanted to help Toby, but he had his own foe to worry about. If he neglected his part in the plan, the bull would surely crush or gore those still assaulting the bird when it charged them.

  And that looked to be soon.

  The bull lowered its head and horns, then swung them side to side while stomping with one hoof. It slowly turned to the sound of bludgeons hammering away at, now humming, glass feathers.

  Fritz's sprint ended in a lunge, Quicksilver's blade sliced in a steady arc, striking with a clang on one side of the beast's thick knee. Flecks of glass and thin silver sparks flew.

  The impact was jarring for both combatants, and the bull blindly swept its horns at its attacker. Fritz, immediately aware of the bone snapping strength the blow held, slipped underneath and struck at the knee again, precisely where he had slashed it before. More chips and sparks were spat, and the tiny furrow he had left with his first strike grew deeper.

  After seeing that small injury, he knew that, if he could hold out, dancing past the horns and hooves, he could eventually maim the beast even though it was made of magically hard glass.

  It was not to be.

  The bull thrashed its head madly and stomped forward wildly, forcing Fritz to back away, evading the enormously heavy blows. The shadow clinging to its skull faded, and it spun burning eyes on its frustrating, yet unassailable enemy.

  Fritz smirked, then beckoned to the beast with Mortal Edge. "See me now? I'm right here," he goaded, intent on keeping its rampage concentrated solely on himself. He needed to; the crew were having more trouble than his predictions had promised.

  The heron was blocking with its wings and repaying any strikes with swift pecks from its long beak or sweeping kicks with its spurred legs. Reed deflected such an attack with his buckler, protecting Mel from a deadly cut.

  The bird wasn't the only trouble, though. The tiger, vision now clear, was closing in on Toby, its claws and fangs drawing nearer with every swipe and bite. Fritz took a single moment to cast another shadow over its eyes, and it roared like the stormy sea. Even yards away, as Fritz was, it shook his bones and caused his heart to tremor.

  The spikes above that had only been trembling before began to fall. Fortunately, they fell both far and wide, rather than falling in an all-encompassing rain of piercing death.

  "Reed, step left! Clover, step forward!" Fritz called out his warnings, even as he stared down the enraged bull.

  The two listened, and the plummeting spears sank into stone rather than flesh, stabbing deep into the ground and dully ringing.

  The bird flapped its wings, the feathers of which were blurring, like they were moving at a great speed and also not at all. Some of those same feathers were launched like bolts from a crossbow, striking stone and breaking or cutting through clothes and skin.

  Mel and Reed faced the worst of the beast's Ability, but they were able to defended with their own Powers and Treasures, the glass simply shattering against bucklers or barriers. The others simply dodged.

  An impression of agony assaulted Fritz, one of his bones being crushed and his body broken. His attention was pulled right back to the bull, which had backed away a few tremendous steps and now was set to charge.

  Fritz cursed; instead of waltzing to his tune and continuing to thrash and stomp, as he would have preferred, the bull bellowed and rushed right at him. It was like facing down a flood. He was able to nimbly dodge the thundering beast, and thankfully, he had set himself apart from his crew, able to keep it away from the other battles.

  The bull rumbled past with bone-rattling force, then plunged into the glass wall behind, disappearing as if diving into a lake of green muddied with gold. The ripple that followed destabilised more of the spears, and Fritz decisively deduced which would cause harm and which would not, Trap Sense guiding his intuitions true.

  He yelled his orders, saving Trudge with his timely warning, before the man threw himself at the bird, attempting to smash its legs with his hammer and being repelled by a humming wing. They appeared far more resilient than they should be, but Fritz could still see the cracks growing deeper and more widespread with each strike.

  The crew fought on as the shadow of the bull rumbled through the circular wall. Fritz wanted to aid them, his impatience urging him to charge at the bird and aid in its destruction, but he knew he needed to watch and divert the bull's own charge.

  He stood there, rocking uneasily on the balls of his feet, waiting for his Awareness to warn him of the beasts assault. As he did so, he was tempted to weave another shadow over the tiger; it again was cunningly corralling Toby, attempting to trap him against the wall.

  The man had a few shallow cuts already, and he was panting. Still, he had a determined expression, one said he wasn't in the thrall of despair and trusted the crew, and Fritz, to succeed.

  Seeing that, Fritz didn't waste the last of his Dusksong mana. Not unless the man screamed for aid. Even then, he didn't know if he would help, Umbral Phase would need the magic he had left. He had his own life to preserve.

  The bull burst forth at an incredible speed, but Fritz, forewarned, was already moving, sprinting to a spot that would keep it from ploughing through his crew.

  The fallen spikes hindered it not at all; just as previously encountered, the glass shafts slipped right through its glass body without so much as a ripple. The beast rushed by, missing him by a foot, but even the wind it left churning in its wake almost threw Fritz from his feet and set him to spin.

  Again and again, he had to dodge, sprint and dive, all the while glancing to his crew. Watching on as they attempted, over and over, to harm their foe. Steadily, his fear grew, and his frustration rose as Mel, Reed and Trudge failed to slay the bird.

  Toby yelled. Fritz turned to look.

  There he saw the tiger sinking its claw deep into the man's left arm. He had blocked a swipe at his neck, but it had cost him. His dagger fell from his hand, and he beat at the beast with his club, ineffectually.

  "Let go!" he shouted.

  The tiger replied with a bite, sinking its fangs into his right shoulder. From behind, a woman screamed, and Trudge yelled. Fritz couldn't help but turn and look, again.

  Mel had fallen, blood pouring from a wound on her thigh, and Trudge clutched at a glass feather lodged in his gut.

  A chill soaked Fritz to the bone, locking his legs in place. It was all falling apart. His plan wasn't enough. His greed and over-confidence had doomed them.

  Fritz didn't remain frozen for long. Or rather, he couldn't. A false pain spread through him, shaking him back to the present and out of any well-earned and indulgent recriminations. He swiftly assessed what he himself could do as he dove away from the charging bull.

  There was another shout, this time it was Reed's. Fritz almost lost all hope then and there, fearing that the Defender had also been severely wounded and the bird would then run amok, unchecked and unchallenged, slaughtering those that were still left to fight.

  While he rose to his feet, he turned to see what horror had befallen Reed.

  To his joy, Fritz had been mistaken, his despair colouring what he had heard. It was notes of rage, not those of agony. And that same rage spurred Reed on in a furious assault, his club and buckler slamming into the heron's wing, one cracking blow after the other.

  Until it broke.

  Whatever glass bone held the wing aloft shattered, the feathers fell away in a shimmering shower, and Reed leapt through that jagged hail, protected by a sudden barrier. Trudge rushed through after him, uncaring of the shards or his own wounds, and they both assaulted the bird's undefended legs.

  The heron was soon toppled, one leg fracturing, then bursting in a glittering cloud under the powerful blows. Trudge then slew the shrieking bird, its head and beak breaking under his hammer as it struggled, splayed out on the stone.

  It let out one last whining whistle, one that sent Fritz reeling and shook the roof. Spears fell. He shouted out a warning that was drowned out by the reverberating, painful pitch. He dodged a spike he could feel falling. Mel, who was pressing a bandage to her wound, was missed by an inch. Trudge wasn't so fortunate, being impaled through the chest.

  The large man, triumphant for only a moment, fell, and with him so too did their odds of surviving. With Mel unable to stand and Trudge mortally wounded, or worse dead, they had traded one third of the crew for one third of the foes.

  Fritz doubted it was an equal exchange.

  The wall rumbled, and the bull charged.