Chapter 89
The moment the Cyclops roared, the entire clearing burst into chaos.
Twillow took off instantly, shooting past us like a startled chicken with fireworks tied to its ankles. His cloak snapped behind him, arms flailing, with the lute clutched to his chest as if it wasn't the very thing that had caused this mess.
"Preserve the poetic witness!" he screeched, stumbling over protruding roots, doubling back, and then zig-zagging in such tortured geometry that even the cyclops froze in confusion. Its single eye probably couldn't process that many abrupt changes in direction at once.
Finn was the only one quick enough to take advantage of the confusion. Within seconds, he whipped out his twin blades, slashing, pivoting, and lunging with a heroic flourish. He managed to land a strike or two with a thunk against the Cyclops calf. But they weren't enough to bring the beast down.
