She cannot think of a better death, which is unfortunate, as the Maker has chosen today to be ended with her living. But she doesn't know that, and presses on with fatalistic savagery, excited by her own capacity for violence. The romance of it is too much. If not for a wound she's not yet encountered, she'd not be parted from him for several days.

A prison or a castle-- both boast similar advantages. A staircase spiraling upward leaves both of them, right-handed, free to jab at the tide of dead who are blocked and cramped by the stairs.

"Have you strength for another go, love?" He just saw the blast her shard emitted. Perhaps, their magic together?