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The Tithe snaps his fingers. The enchanted mallet and chisel fly out of my palms and return to the Tithe’s satchel. With a howl of pain, the Tithe then jams the sharp end of the chisel into his chest, right at his own heat. Not what I expected, that. He grasps the mallet next, and drives the chisel deeper into his flesh. A burst of magical light erupts from his body. The Tithe transforms into an effigy, but not like any I’d ever seen before. He’s a mixture of flesh and stone, a mottled being covered in a patchwork of runes.
“And now, my friends?” asks the Tithe. “You shall witness my revenge.”
My thoughts race. I’m out of charms. I’m surrounded my effigies. My weapons and attacks—cracking, burning, freezing—they’ve all been discovered and counteracted. I set my hand by my mouth. “Wal
