“Oh, shit,” Lyle said aloud to himself, despairing of how he would kill such a creature. Then he shook himself, taking a step forward and hardening his expression. He would face more creatures like this if he continued on his path. Besides, he wasn’t just a normal human now. He was an Ember.

Lake-zombies began to pull themselves out of the water onto all the platforms nearest the Tear, including Lyle’s own. The serpent, which must have been his final obstacle, could have swallowed a couple of semi trucks. Lyle paled as he watched it continue to rise, seemingly without end. He swung his sword, beating back the zombies on his platform while trying desperately to come up with a plan before it struck at him.

The serpent’s eyes and mouth were probably vulnerable, but to get at the eyes he would have to somehow get on top of it, and to strike at its mouth he would have to be practically inside of it. The latter would be easier, but nearly certain to get him killed.

Getting on its head isn’t going to be much less dangerous, he thought ruefully.

A glancing blow from a zombie forced him to tear his gaze from the immense creature and strike back, though when he inspected his arm where it had struck him, he only found small scratches, as if it had lightly run its fingernails across his skin. He shuddered in disgust at that image, but it was better than being severely injured.

The serpent dove beneath the water. Lyle cursed as the water rippled towards him and he realized he was going to have to leave the platform, which meant he would have to sacrifice the few stepping stones he had available. He scrambled out onto the steps counterclockwise around the circle just as the serpent erupted out of the water and passed over the platform he’d just vacated with all the force of a freight train. It crushed all of the zombies without even noticing, and Lyle was nearly ripped off the pathway by the displaced air. Making a quick decision, he shuffled all the way over to the next platform, careful to cut down any of the blade-fish that still attacked him whenever he left the safety of the sanctuaries.

Not that they’re much of a sanctuary, now.

He made it to the platform and swept eight zombies from its surface with a few quick slashes before the serpent resurfaced nearby. Lyle watched it closely for movement, only to jerk back and dodge a flying razor-fin. Apparently the platforms weren’t even safe from the fish anymore, either.

It surfaced right alongside his platform to glare at him balefully, and he immediately reacted, taking the opportunity to stab at its head despite the fact that his sword would be like a pinprick to a thing that size. He tried to catch it in the eye, but missed as it twisted away, back into the water, and managed only to score a wound along the side of its crest. The serpent would hardly notice a scratch like that.

He heard a rumbling roar of pain, and started in surprise. That little cut…?

Lyle didn’t have time to finish the thought. It was hurting, but clearly not hindered in its movement as it erupted again right in front of him and crashed over the platform with a sideways roll. Lyle could have leapt backwards onto the path towards the shore, but if those stones fell he would never get back here alive.

Lyle was able to get to the pathway on the other side in time, just barely escaping the serpent’s flailing body. It would crush him like a bowling ball rolling over an egg if he gave it the chance. The stones beneath him lit up, and he was forced by the retreating pathway to keep moving to the third platform.

Annoyance filled him as the zombies and fish continued to plague him. They were making it very difficult to deal with the serpent itself. Once he made the run to the fourth and final platform—where he had begun his fight with the serpent—there would be no more zombies, but he would also be out of safe places to retreat. The only steps that remained would be the final circle between him and the portal.

Maybe I can escape through the Tear without killing the serpent? he wondered. Killing this thing is not going to be easy.

As if it could hear his thoughts, its body parted the waters as it swam between him and the Tear. To discourage him further, it reared up once more out of the water and dove towards his platform. In the split second Lyle had to react, he considered trying to stab into its mouth, but he wasn’t ready to dive right into the jaws of the beast, so he darted to the final platform as the serpent pounded his previous sanctuary into rubble.

Whirling his sword, Lyle cut a couple of the razor-fins out of the air, most of his attention remaining on the serpent, which didn’t give him a moment of respite. It struck again like a regular snake, snapping its head forwards and forcing Lyle to leap forwards onto the center circle, his only remaining walkway. He slammed down and nearly lost his balance, then almost got knocked off the platform by a leaping fish as he recovered. He watched how quickly the stepping stones fell so he would know exactly how much time he had on each step—there was no way it was enough.

Forced to continue slicing fish out of the air and avoiding the serpent’s strikes, Lyle was pushed around the inner circle even faster than he had anticipated and very nearly knocked into the water several times. When he reached the final step, the serpent slid through the water before him and he did the only thing he could, considering that the alternative was to fall into the water with this final step.

He leapt.

Lyle landed on its back and struggled to hold on as it flinched backwards in surprise, forcing him to grip as tightly as he could to its jagged scales. He came tantalizingly close to the Tear, but the serpent was moving far too fast to allow him to gather his wits and jump again. Wind buffeted him as he held on for dear life.

He stabbed into it with his sword when it slowed, causing it to roar in agony and arch its scaled back. Using the blade for leverage, he climbed breathlessly upwards, doing his best to maintain his hold. He nearly made it to the head before he was struck from the creature’s back by one of the leaping fish.

Its fin sliced across Lyle’s back, cutting through his clothing and ripping him off the back of the serpent. He let out an abortive yelp of pain and panic before the water silenced him. A wet slap accompanied his entry into the lake and he thrashed around, trying to find the serpent again and ward off the fish. Fortunately, the fish scattered, but the serpent was nowhere to be seen. He desperately searched for it, fear chilling his veins with ice. He tried to stay above the surface so he could breathe, but something about this lake was pulling him downwards with every movement he made.

He realized with dismay that his black sword was no longer in his hand, which meant it was likely at the bottom of the lake. With a grunt of frustration, he drew his father’s sword from its position slung across his back, but he had no idea what he could possibly do to the serpent in its home territory, let alone if he were still above water. His sword could barely hurt the thing, and surely his magic would be equally as useless.

Wait, magic?

An idea popped into his head. He remembered his jaunt into the Tower with Liv and Trent. He’d discovered that he could harness his magic to increase the strength and speed of a single strike, but the tradeoff was that it would leave him in debilitating pain.

Is it worth it? Will it even work? Is that part of what Tiamat was telling me to avoid?

Lyle felt movement in the water and began to panic. A ripple rose on the surface in front of him. It was all or nothing—do or die.

In seconds, the serpent would be upon him again as it cut gracefully through the depths with its immense, scaly mass. The ripple that marked its passage drove unerringly towards him. It surfaced, its mouth open in anticipation of a meal.

Lyle pushed his power into the arm holding his father’s sword and held it there, treading water and waiting for the serpent to close the distance. He began to feel the heat burning at his muscles, but he gripped the magic tightly and bound it to his will.

The serpent was nearly on top of him when Lyle torqued his legs and slashed into its nose with all his might.

An enormous boom sounded and Lyle lost sight of everything as he was tossed around like a ragdoll. The waves tumbled and frothed, crashing into him and pounding painfully into his exhausted body. His arm burned with agony where the golden magic had empowered his strike.

By some miracle, his frantically kicking legs pushed him above the surface as it started to settle, and he just barely maintained his grip on his father’s sword. He scanned for any sign of the serpent. When his gaze crossed over the blade he held, he sucked in a sharp breath. It had shattered into pieces, leaving only a hilt with a jagged metal stump in his grip. Without a weapon, Lyle wasn’t sure what he could do. If the serpent wasn’t dead, Lyle soon would be.

The waves started to settle as they rippled outwards from the point of impact and left him floating amidst the blood of the serpent and some curious, brave razor-fins. The water before him churned, and Lyle’s heart leapt into his throat.

The serpent raised its head above the water again and roared furiously with what was left of its jaw. Most of the front of its snout was pulverized, leaving it doomed to a slow death as it bled out. That didn’t help Lyle, though, because he would be dead in short order. It dove forwards, sealing his doom.

He had one final option. Excruciating pain radiated from his arm, but he strangled it and grasped the power deep inside himself once more. Waves of magic extended through his muscles, and every nerve ending protested furiously—it felt like he was receiving the lava bath that he had wished for earlier.

Karma’s a bitch, he thought dryly.

He reared back and, aiming for the serpent’s head, let the remnants of the sword fly with a crack! of displaced air. His aim was true, and the hilt skewered the serpent and burst from the back of its skull with an explosion of brain matter and bone.

The gargantuan lake monster fell, its headless body slipping back into the water for its eternal rest at the bottom of the lake, and a sense of numb relief nearly overcame Lyle.

He was broken out of it when a glint of familiar metal caught his sight. He dove forwards to grab his black sword—which had been stuck in the serpent’s back—before it, too, sank to a watery grave.

With a sigh of relief, Lyle gave a final push and swam over to the tear, cradling his throbbing right arm. The fish left him alone, and he reached up towards the distorted air. A familiar paralysis came over him, and the world shattered into a prism of light, then he was deposited safely back in his room.