The young mage stepped solidly between the beast and his companion, leveling the end of Bethen’s staff at the enraged, disoriented creature as it shuddered its bulk back around to face him. He could freeze it, but that wouldn’t hurt it enough to kill it, and he probably couldn’t shatter it… unless Beth could manage that same trick again. Something else nibbled at the back of his mind, but went unheeded in the face of the greater threat now fixing far too many sets of beady black eyes on him- were those answering cries he heard, the evidence of reinforcements closing in on them echoing through the blackness of the tunnels they’d left behind? Or even the tunnels through which they needed to escape?
The spider barreled forward again with upsetting speed, forelegs outstretched and battering his shoulders and torso as its fangs gnashed at the air, seeking flesh. The force of those flailing legs was like being punched by gauntleted hands (and didn’t Constans know what that felt like now), but instead of crying out in pain Constans drew back the staff he clutched like a club and slammed it into the spider’s face. Driven back again briefly by the blow, the apprentice twisted his hands around his weapon and channeled a burst of cold into the creature, which hissed hatefully as frost crawled in jagged patches across its carapace but, to his dismay, did not freeze through.
“Bethen-?” he said out the corner of his mouth, half questioning and half warning. Was she okay? The very stunned, very angry spider staggered toward them again and he cursed himself for depending so heavily on his mastery of fire- right before he let loose a desperate blast of flame directly in their enemy’s so-called face.