as far as its hilt.
Dodge and Alyss—the real Alyss, the decoys she’d imagined gone now—found each other, safe amid the scything and eager trigger-pulls of the Total ImmEx Glass Eyes. “All right?” Alyss was breathless.
“No problem.”
They ran out to the lobby, where the white knight and generals were surrounded by an ever-growing number of Glass Eyes. And the rook, where was…? There, on the Spinning T-Cup ride, in a replica single-seater fighter craft shaped like a capital T, its guns parallel to the cockpit and located at the end of each wing. The rook was slashing at the assassins trying to climb up and put an end to him. With blades swinging, Dodge offered what support he could to the generals and knight, but Alyss remained where she was, a pillar of calm amid the turmoil of battle as she employed the weapon of her imagination. The Spinning T-Cups kicked into operation. The ride’s fighter craft began to rotate, increasing in speed until the Glass Eyes climbing up to challenge the rook blade to blade were flung off like so many—
Crack!
The rook’s fighter craft was free of the ride altogether, independent, flying under the distant ceiling of Wondronia’s lobby.
“Yeeeeah!” the chessman shouted, piloting in low over Dodge, the knight and generals, and firing his craft’s guns into the Glass Eyes, annihilating half of them. A second flyby finished off the enemy and, with no small skill, he landed the fighter so that it blockaded Wondronia’s exposed front door. “If you imagine every entrance and exit blocked, we’ll have time to defeat whatever Glass Eyes are still inside,” the four General Gängers said to Alyss. “No. I want as many of them as possible to come in.” “You want what?!”
She didn’t need Bibwit to tell her that, being unable to imagine herself at every skirmish simultaneously, she couldn’t annihilate every Glass Eye in the city with a single strike of her imagination. She knew her limits all too well.
I have to kill off as many as can be brought together in one place. “What’s the largest room here?” she asked. “Penniken Fields on the second floor.”
“Take us there.”
Clicketclacketclacketyclick!
Scorpspitters, released by the Glass Eyes outside, skittered through small gaps not blocked by the rook’s fighter. Out the forked ends of their curled tails shot bullets of black liquid. Dodge, the chessmen, and generals tried to shield themselves with their weapons, but— Splat! Sploink! Splish!
Dodge and Alyss—the real Alyss, the decoys she’d imagined gone now—found each other, safe amid the scything and eager trigger-pulls of the Total ImmEx Glass Eyes. “All right?” Alyss was breathless.
“No problem.”
They ran out to the lobby, where the white knight and generals were surrounded by an ever-growing number of Glass Eyes. And the rook, where was…? There, on the Spinning T-Cup ride, in a replica single-seater fighter craft shaped like a capital T, its guns parallel to the cockpit and located at the end of each wing. The rook was slashing at the assassins trying to climb up and put an end to him. With blades swinging, Dodge offered what support he could to the generals and knight, but Alyss remained where she was, a pillar of calm amid the turmoil of battle as she employed the weapon of her imagination. The Spinning T-Cups kicked into operation. The ride’s fighter craft began to rotate, increasing in speed until the Glass Eyes climbing up to challenge the rook blade to blade were flung off like so many—
Crack!
The rook’s fighter craft was free of the ride altogether, independent, flying under the distant ceiling of Wondronia’s lobby.
“Yeeeeah!” the chessman shouted, piloting in low over Dodge, the knight and generals, and firing his craft’s guns into the Glass Eyes, annihilating half of them. A second flyby finished off the enemy and, with no small skill, he landed the fighter so that it blockaded Wondronia’s exposed front door. “If you imagine every entrance and exit blocked, we’ll have time to defeat whatever Glass Eyes are still inside,” the four General Gängers said to Alyss. “No. I want as many of them as possible to come in.” “You want what?!”
She didn’t need Bibwit to tell her that, being unable to imagine herself at every skirmish simultaneously, she couldn’t annihilate every Glass Eye in the city with a single strike of her imagination. She knew her limits all too well.
I have to kill off as many as can be brought together in one place. “What’s the largest room here?” she asked. “Penniken Fields on the second floor.”
“Take us there.”
Clicketclacketclacketyclick!
Scorpspitters, released by the Glass Eyes outside, skittered through small gaps not blocked by the rook’s fighter. Out the forked ends of their curled tails shot bullets of black liquid. Dodge, the chessmen, and generals tried to shield themselves with their weapons, but— Splat! Sploink! Splish!