She jumps, diagonally across the corner of the bridge and ledge, keeping her sword in her hand and landing on her feet only by dint of an adolescence spent being about this much of an idiot.

The wraith whirls, confused, then spots her on the ledge and rushes her.

She hits it with a short blast of fire, just enough to trip it up while she gets herself firmly planted, silver blade at the ready.

It screeches, billows into smoke, reforms just short of her and condenses a claw to rake -

She meets the claw with her silver dagger.

Three of the wraith's fingers are chopped clean off.  It howls, and solidity spreads from its injured hand up its skeletal arm and into its ribcage.

Which is what her sword is for, its longer reach slashing at the solid parts.

The wraith shrieks and rakes at her desperately and, as her sword crashes through its chest, bursts into nothingness.

moŗe are͝ com͜i̡ng

"Then we'll get moving."

She gestures to her atronach to go ahead of her, settling into a light, ground-eating run.

She sketches, in Lianda's mind, the plan of the temple beyond the labyrinth.  This part is functional: there are kitchens and bedrooms and common areas and rooms that might once have been lit gardens.

Wraiths are hurtling through the labyrinth toward her, and stranger undead creatures populate the temple proper between her and Malkoran.

i c͢a̶n̛ ̵ém̴powe͝r̕ m҉y͟ ̸c̷h̛ąmpio̵n̵ s̨t̡i̡l̨l f̢u҉ŗt̶h̴e͡r wh͡e͘n ͞sh͡e͘ ̶wi͝e͞ld̢s m͠y̵ sword ͜ąn͏d stán͠ds͞ w͟i͘thi̴n m͏y ͝tem̛p͘le͠

i̧t ma̢y̷ ͢b́e prùd̕en̶t ̀to̵ ̧k̛ill ͝Mal͢kora͜n͏ ̕an͡d ͞r̨e͘ćov̡er Da͜w͘n͏br̕e̢ak͝d̴er b͢ef̛o͠re ̸d͘oing͠ bat͜tle͢ wit͢h e̡ver͡y̧ ̀w̶rait͘h ͞an̢d̛ ͞zom̴bie̷ ̴w̕i̸th̷i̡n t̴ḩę ̸t́em̕pl̶e

She laughs under her breath.

"Race for Malkoran it is. Guide the way, my lady."

The temple's living quarters aren't nearly as tangled and labyrinthine as the, well, labyrinth - but there are still a few secret passageways, presumably for a situation just such as this one, that Meridia can trace out for her.

Good.

Lianda, at least, is good at moving fast and steady.

She has her atronach peel off, tracing a different path, to direct attention away from her for a time at least.

Meridia's secret passageways lead her away from most of the monsters, but she'll still have a chance or two to peer around corners and catch sight of what Malkoran's been working on.  Monsters assembled from bones cloaked in shadowy wraith-mist, or corpses stitched together - some lumbering, some eerily graceful.

After some time, Meridia reports:

t̴h҉e ́wraith͜s ha̕v͘e̶ ̸kil͟léd҉ your͟ ̛at͜ron̴a͞c͏h͠

̵th͠ey h̵a͟v̴e͠ repo҉rt̡ed ͞to ̷M̵a̵lkor͝an͞

a̶n̸d̵ h͝e ̶is̷ eme͠rg̡i͟nǵ ͘f̀r͝o̷m ̛hi̡s͟ ̀sa͟f͘e͏r͞oom

"Good old Flare." Fake outs like that - splitting up from her atronach ally and having Flare convince her enemies they're both defeated - work on a shocking number of the less intelligent of the undead and beasts.

Well, now that Malkoran's guard is down, ambushing him will be rather easier.

She saves her magicka the rest of the way, under the hope she'll be able to re-summon her atronach.

Meridia keeps her posted on the movements of wraiths and other undead beasties.  Some of them are moving to misalign the mirrors.  (Meridia calls her attention briefly to a secret passage, designed to be one way, that she'll be able to use to get back into the labyrinth if the door locks behind her.)

Soon enough she's outside the sanctum sanctorum, the resting place of the Dawnbreaker when it's not in use, which Malkoran has converted into a workshop.

Is the way to the Dawnbreaker clear? (She's guessing not.)

She guesses right: after a few moments, something that might once have been a deer comes loping around the corner.  It hasn't seen her yet.

She's not in a good enough position to hide, given her poor skill at that and the clear corridor -

She tucks herself away just long enough for it to get within striking distance, and then moves, silver knife lashing out for its neck.

It - screams.

And the door to Malkoran's laboratory bursts open and there he is, black-robed and -armored just as he was in Meridia's vision of him, wielding a sword the color of sunlight in one hand and a blue-white roil of frost magic in the other.

(They're in a grand sort of antechamber to Dawnbreaker's vault, so there's room to maneuver - )

 - shadow and hoarfrost spills from the wound in the deer's neck.  It moves to gambol away as Malkoran rushes her.

This is something she's more familiar with.

And Malkoran is unlikely to be immune to normal blades -

Lianda summons Flare to the side, lets him rush her, stepping to the side -

Let's see how good a fighter he is.

(Lianda is very, very good, and her atronach has fought beside her numerous times.)

He is - fierce and furious and sometimes inefficient for it, but not wholly inexperienced.  His frost-shadow-deer keeps Flare tied up for a time.

The first thing he does, after recovering from his failed rush, is whistle, loudly and piercingly, for backup.

She'll just have to keep the backup from getting here in time.

Lianda's fierce, fast, clear-headed, and no longer afraid of burning magicka. She's been working as a mercenary for nearly two decades, and was part of a warrior house before that.