(Elizabeth Aurelius POV)
Every fight has a second breath, my first combat tutor used to say: the one you take after your first plan has failed. He said most people die before they take it.
I took it standing on the old flagstones, with the creature's long head turned toward my chest and its forelimb folding slowly back into its body.
It hadn't hurt me yet. That was information too.
From the direction of the steps, muffled as though it were coming through deep water, a whistle sounded. One long call. Everyone on the convoy knew that one.
Hold your position.
Further off and fainter, another long call answered it from the gate. My guards had looked for me among the rocks, found nothing, and sounded the hold, and Renn had heard.
The water I had thrown at its legs lay in a dark slick across the flagstones, doing nothing useful. I called it back up, and it gathered above my left shoulder again, smaller than before.
I started with its legs.
