The giant's roar rattled Kael's bones.
It wasn't just sound — it was a pressure that rolled through the air and pressed against his chest, syncing with his heartbeat. The connection he'd felt when the vial shattered was no accident. Whatever that glowing blood was, it had tied the creature's pulse to his own.
Every thud in his chest echoed in its eyes.
Ryn was shouting something behind him, her voice half-lost in the wind tearing across the ridge.
"Kael! Move!"
The giant's massive arm — a tangle of root and hardened mud — swept toward him. He dove aside as the blow smashed into the rock where he'd stood, splitting the ridge edge into a jagged scar. Shards of stone whistled past his head, one nicking his cheek.
The smaller beasts that had survived the vial's shattering regrouped, their eyes flickering uncertainly. Some lunged at Ryn, others at him, but none moved without the giant's lead.
Ryn's crossbow snapped, bolts punching through joints and throats. She kept her position near a cluster of boulders, forcing the smaller creatures to funnel toward her in twos and threes.
Kael rose from his roll and closed the distance to the giant, knife in hand. Stonehide flared across his skin, every muscle taut.
If the creature's pulse followed his, maybe the reverse was true. Maybe he could push something through the connection.
He darted toward its leg — if you could call it a leg — and slashed at the thick knots of root running along it. The blade bit deep, and the giant bellowed.
At the same moment, a spike of pain lanced Kael's own thigh. He staggered, glancing down to see an identical slash bleeding through his pants.
"Damn," he hissed. The link worked both ways. Damage to it echoed in him.
Ryn must have seen him falter, because her next shot drove straight into the giant's upper limb. It staggered but didn't fall. Kael braced for pain, but none came.
So — its damage didn't echo into him. Only his into it.
That was dangerous. And useful.
The giant bent low, a hollow bellow rolling from its chest as it reached for him again. Kael waited until the last instant, then sprinted toward its other leg and hacked at a joint of knotted wood and bone. The blade sank in deep, and the giant's movement stuttered.
Behind him, Ryn shouted, "Keep it off the ridge edge!"
He risked a glance back — the rock beneath them was cracking in spiderweb patterns from the giant's steps. Another minute, maybe less, and the whole section would collapse into the marsh below.
Kael backed up, drawing the giant forward into the center of the ridge. The smaller beasts circled, but he kept his knife moving, slashing at anything that got too close.
One of the winged ones tried to dive from above — Ryn's bolt took it through the skull mid-flight, sending it tumbling into the marsh.
The giant lunged again. Kael sidestepped, then kicked off the rock and scrambled up its arm like climbing a tree. The texture was rough, uneven, but slick with moisture from the marsh. His fingers slipped twice, but he managed to haul himself onto its broad shoulder.
From here, the glow in its eyes was blinding — each pulse sending a faint vibration through the ground and his bones.
Kael gripped his knife in both hands and drove it down into the base of the creature's neck.
The effect was immediate — a shockwave of agony slammed into his own neck and shoulders, nearly knocking him free. But the giant staggered, its steps faltering, its bellow rising into a distorted howl.
Kael gritted his teeth. "If I hurt, you hurt worse."
He twisted the blade and pulled.
The giant swayed dangerously close to the ridge edge. Ryn was reloading, shouting at him to get down, but Kael couldn't hear the words over the blood pounding in his ears.
The smaller beasts faltered again — some collapsing outright — as the giant's glow dimmed for a heartbeat.
Kael yanked the knife free and drove it in again, higher this time, aiming for where its head fused into its torso.
Pain lanced through his own skull — white-hot, stabbing behind his eyes — but the giant let out a bone-deep groan and dropped to one knee. The ground quaked.
The ridge gave a sharp, cracking sound.
Kael didn't think. He leapt from the giant's shoulder to the ridge, rolling hard on landing.
"Ryn!" he barked.
She was already moving, bolting for the narrower section that led back to solid ground.
The giant tried to follow, but its weight shattered more of the rock beneath it. Chunks of stone slid away into the marsh water below, vanishing into the mist.
It roared — not in pain, but in fury — and pushed forward.
Kael made a choice in that moment.
He turned and ran straight at it.
The thing raised an arm to swat him aside, but he slid under the swing and drove his knife into the inside of its leg, where a thick knot of roots pulsed. The link flared again — pain in his own leg making his knee buckle — but the giant's roar cut through the air, sharp and guttural.
The rock beneath its feet gave way completely.
The giant fell sideways into the marsh with a sound like a mountain collapsing. Water and mud surged upward, splashing across the ridge. Smaller beasts shrieked, some throwing themselves after it, others scattering into the mist.
Kael staggered back, his own pulse still syncing with the fading glow of its eyes as it sank deeper into the swamp.
Then the link snapped.
The sudden emptiness in his chest made him sway, almost like he'd been holding a weight that was abruptly gone.
Ryn reached him, grabbing his arm to steady him. "Tell me that thing's dead."
He shook his head. "No. But it's hurt. Bad. And it knows me now."
"Knows you?"
Kael met her gaze. "When I stabbed it, I wasn't just hurting it. It was feeling me. And I think… I think it was trying to push back."
Ryn's mouth tightened. "Then it'll come looking for you."
"Good," Kael said. "That's exactly what I want."
They retreated from the ridge as the cracks spread, the last section collapsing behind them into the marsh.
Once they were clear, they paused in the shadow of a dead tree. Ryn crouched, reloading and checking her gear. Kael stared back at the swirling mist.
The marsh seemed calmer now, but he knew it was a lie. The Shaper wasn't going to let this go. The next time they met, it wouldn't be scouts or a single giant.
It would be war.