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Charter marks flared on Binder's blade as she reached out to them, joining them to others drawn out of the Charter. Four master marks she needed, but to use them she had first to protect herself with lesser marks.
Binder helped her, and her marks slowly formed a chain in her mind, all too slowly, as the Stilken gobbled and strained, pulling its hook out inch by inch. [...]
The last mark came, flowing into Lirael with easy grace. She let the spell go, feeling its power rush through her blood and every bone, fortifying her against the four master marks she needed to call.
The first of these master marks blossomed in her mind as the Stilken finally pulled its hook free, with a great groan from the oak and a spray of white-green sap. Even with the protective spell upon her, Lirael didn't let the master mark linger in her mind. She cast it forth, sending it down Binder's blade, where it spread like shining oil, till it suddenly burst into fire, surrounding the blade with golden flames.
The Stilken, already leaping to attack, tried to twist away. But it was too late. Lirael stepped forward, and Binder leapt out in a perfect stop thrust, straight through the Stilken's neck. Golden fire raged, white sparks plumed up like a skyrocket's trail, and the creature froze a mere two paces from Lirael, its hooks almost touching her on either side.

Lirael, Ch. 13, pg. 113-114