Even in the dim light reflected off the clouds Harold could see the ground beneath the fight begin to darken. Moments later water began to splash wherever the golem's feet touched the earth and in under a minute it was struggling as its own weight forced it into the mud. It slumped as it sank and Harold tried to remember how deep the earth was at the front of the house. Did it hit the tunnels before it turned to rock or after?
With only a small amount of erupting panic, Harold reversed the spell. “Limus ut Humus,” hoping the reverse worked as well as the original. Latin could be a tricky language to work on the fly, and even after taking it as a study option in University he wasn't sure about the conjugation of verb tenses.
The mud around the golem began to bubble with escaping air as the mixture dried out. One of its arms became trapped in the hardening earth while the other clawed at the ground around, trying to gain a purchase from which to pull itself free. Gillian stood back, the curve of her lip suggesting either a smile or a grimace of pain. Harold wasn't sure which and wasn't sure they weren't identical anyway. She looked around, searching for him and he stepped from the corner of the building.
Her face hardened. “Why have you got Lucy? It's dangerous out here.”
“Only if she gets in range of that flailing arm.” Harold set her down well away from the golem but kept tight hold of her hand. “I have an idea about her. Did you know she was consciously absorbing demons? The one inside Julie has become one of her friends. Is it just me, or is it creepy that our daughter talks to demons?”
“She talks to you, doesn't she?”