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proportioned; its head seemed almost too large for its body, with a heavy jawed mouth filled with countless jagged teeth.
    Clinging to the side of the tree with massive claws, it hissed at them, showing the teeth.
    Its mane lifted like a dog's hackles, and a haze shimmered to life over the beast, like heat waves coming off hot asphalt. Tinker could feel the presence of magic on her domana senses, like static electricity prickling against the skin. The second Blade, Cloudwalker, fired his pistol. The bullets struck the haze—making it flare at the point of impact—and dropped to the ground, inert. Tinker felt the magic strengthen as the kinetic energy of the bullet fed into the spell, fueling it.
    "It's an oni shield!" Tinker cried out in warning. "Hitting it will only make it stronger."
    Stormsong got to her feet, biting back a cry of pain. "Go, run, I'll hold it!"
    Pony caught Tinker by her upper arm, and half carried her, half dragged her through the thicket.
    "No!" Tinker cried, knowing that if it weren't for her safety, the others wouldn't abandon one of their own.
    "Domi." Pony urged her to run faster. "If we cannot hit it, then we have no hope of killing it."
    Tinker thought furiously. How do you hurt something you can't hit but could bite you? Wait—maybe that was it! She snatched the pistol from the holster at Pony's side and jerked out of his hold. Here, under the tall ironwoods, the jagger brushes had grown high, and animals had made low tunnel-like trails through them. Ducking down, Tinker ran down a path, the gun seeming huge in her hands, heading back toward the wounded sekasha . The thorns tore at her bare arms and hair.
    "Tinker domi!" Pony cried behind her.
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    "Its shield doesn't cover its mouth!" she shouted back.
    She burst into the clearing to find Stormsong backed to a tree, desperately parrying the animal's teeth and claws. It smashed aside her sword and leapt, mouth open.
    Tinker shouted for its attention, and pulled the gun's trigger. She hadn't aimed at all, and the bullet whined into the underbrush, missing everything.
    As the beast turned to face her, and Stormsong shouted warning—a wordless cry of anger, pain, and dismay—Tinker realized the flaw in her plan. She would need to shove the pistol into the creature's mouth before shooting. "Oh fuck."
    It was like being hit by a freight train. One moment the beast was running at her and then everything become a wild tumble of darkness and light, dead leaves, sharp teeth, and blood. Everything stopped moving with the creature pinning her to the ground with one massive claw. Then it pulled —not on her skin or muscle, but something deeper inside her, something intangible, that she didn't even know existed.
    Magic flooded through her—hot and powerful as electricity—a seemingly endless torrent from someplace unknown to the monster—and she was just the hapless conduit.
    She had lost the gun in the wild tumble. She punched at its head, trying to get it off her as the magic poured through her. The massive jaws snapped down on her fist, and suddenly the creature froze—teeth holding firm her hand, not yet breaking skin. Its eyes widened, as if surprised to see her under it, her hand in its mouth. She panted, scared now beyond words, as the magic continued to thrum through her bones and skin. Her hand seemed so very small inside the mouthful of teeth.
    A sword blade appeared over her, the tip pressing up against the creature's shields, aimed at its right eye. The tip slid forward slowly as if it was being pressed through concrete.
    "Get off her," Pony growled, leaning his full weight onto his sword, little by little driving the point through the shields. "Now!"
    For a moment, they seemed stuck in amber—the monster, Pony, her—caught in place and motionless.
    There came a high thrilling whistle from way up high, bursting the amber. The creature released her hand