Revan lifted his forehead off the dead creature's shell.
'Get up. Come on. Just two left.'
His vision swam, red at the edges and black in the center. Still, he could see, and what he saw was going to get someone else killed.
Backed against the cart, Lyra's creature was using the iron frame as a wall for its spine. Head low and armored skull out, the thing snapped at anything in range as Lyra circled, looking for an angle that didn't exist.
His voice came out raw and thin.
"Lyra!"
He swallowed blood and tried again.
"It's protecting its back against the cart. Bait the ram."
She didn't look at him, but she heard.
"If it charges the frame again, the cart slides on the rail. It'll overcommit. You'll have half a second at the spine."
Lyra circled on like he hadn't spoken.
"Lyra—"
"I know."
