There's no room to attack again, with Stark in the way--even if Solomon had a weapon. The ceiling collapse forced Solomon back into the nook that had been summoned for him, his sleeve over his mouth so the dust didn't make it more difficult to breathe than it already was. Or at least didn't make him cough more than he already was.

It worked well enough that when Malicant finally dissolved and his grip on Solomon's magic eased, Solomon was able to straighten up and move out from behind the nook, leaning on the wall. He kicked aside rocks and found the Vilii Stone, chipped and a little cracked, but still--mostly--in one piece. It would do.

"Please do tell me he isn't going to appear to harass anyone else," he muttered, and then Stark shouted, proving he hadn't heard a word. Solomon sighed and lowered himself down to pick up the Stone, leaning back against one of the larger rocks. He was trapped in a cavern with three teenagers, and still felt as though someone had been tearing out the inside of his chest. Even if Malicant had been defeated, Solomon wasn't looking forward to the aftermath.

Maybe he wouldn't have to get up again. That would be nice.