Damn it. That bolt hadn't done nearly as much damage as it had to Sanguine, not nearly as much as Solomon had expected or hoped. And Solomon hadn't figured out how to dispel magic with enough regularity to rely on it.

One lucky thing--Tesseract's soul was a mercurial mirror of intent. Tanith's warning was nice, but not needed. Solomon caught the flash of the action in Tesseract's soul and stepped aside, hearing it clatter against the wall a foot away from his head. Then he exhaled, as much to steady himself against the pain as to let his magic work.

Light played across the wall and down the blade. He used his sword like the Necromantic cane he used to have, twisting it in the air to catch the sharp edge of Tesseract's soul and direct the next bolt where he wanted it. It was a disorienting one this time, like before--but more powerful, with time to channel more into it. It seeped along the lines of Tesseract's soul and the light on his blade, following him no matter where his physical body tried to run.