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The masses of shadowlings thinned on the stairs, though mostly because there simply wasn't as much room to pack into. Jordan had to modify his technique here, too; the confined space meant that he couldn't sweep Ferros through a wide arc to clear a path in front of him. Instead, he alternated short, low strikes with overhand swings, letting gravity do most of the work there.

Ferros rumbled with satisfaction as another cluster of shadowlings were crushed to nothingness. Small but tasty. He wouldn't get enough Fear from these little morsels to get a proper charge off, not in here, but there was enough substance to appease the edge of his hunger.

Jordan was never quite sure if the triggers he thought he spotted were real traps. They might be decoys, or he might be mistaking something for a trap trigger. Or they might be genuine. Luck or skill; either way, he made it safely across the room this time, nothing popping out at hi from floor, ceiling, or walls.

He took a few seconds to breathe deeply and consciously relax some of the tension that had collected in his shoulders. Not quite half done with this course; so far, so good.

He'd almost gotten the lock released when the princess, which had up till now been standing steadily and quietly with its arm outstretched, abruptly burst into song, the first few words being something about rainbows and sunshine. Unfortunately, the sudden outburst startled Jordan. His hand jerked, the point of the awl skidded, and the mechanism exploded. He threw his arm up to protect his eyes, but the blast singed his coat, burned his cheek and hand, and peppered him with searing bits of metal and mechanism.

Worse, the explosion had damaged the princess's arm and side, mangling its hand badly, crisping some of its skin, and making it bleed. Not much he could do about that. The manacle was off, at least. "Come on," he told the golem.

As it followed him obediently down the stairs, it resumed singing, remarkably cheerful for something that looked as badly injured as it did.

It was really kind of unsettling that the princess could sing brightly and maintain such a sweet and vacant expression with half of one of its hands gone and bloodstains spreading slowly on its dress. It was more unsettling, Jordan thought, that it didn't bother him that much. Maybe that was because he knew it wasn't a person. He hoped so, anyway.

The golem managed to follow his footsteps with remarkable precision; none of the traps triggered under its feet. "Good job," Jordan told it dryly, and then wished he hadn't when it giggled and bounced, trying to clap its hands.

It should have been easier once he reached the floor of the tower, but the open space provided less protection for the princess; he could order it to edge around the tower, staying flat against the wall, and inch around to the door slowly while he defended it as he had on the stairs. Or he could make a dash for it, clearing the way in front of him and counting on speed to get himself and the golem out safely. Relatively safely.

If it had been a real human, he might have taken the more cautious route around to the door, taking more care to prevent further injury to the person he was protecting. As it was - well, the golem was already damaged. He locked his free hand around its upper arm and told it, "Run!"

Shadowlings scattered away from the sweeping arcs of the hammer in front of Jordan, but they surged up behind, squeaking and chittering and grabbing at the golem's dress. By the time he'd made it across the floor and thrown the door open to drag the princess out into the light, several of the creatures had latched onto the golem's back. He swatted them off and crushed them with a quick swing, though they were already dissolving.

"My hero," the princess cooed, and started singing again. It latched onto his arm and gave him an adoring and rather bloody smile. It would collapse soon, he reminded himself, and awkwardly patted it on its uninjured shoulder. The princess was injured, but it was still alive; he'd passed the course. That was pretty satisfying.

Feel better? Ferros asked, a trace of smug humor in his voice.

Much. Jordan refused to let the dragon needle him back into a bad mood. Once the princess had let go of him, he could go have a shower and rejoin the ranks of civilized human beings without snapping at anyone. Mission accomplished, or close enough.