There was barely time for Maxwell to grab for Dorian as he was ripped away. None at all to go for the knife in his boot. He wasn't even entirely certain was going on until the root had already twisted about his wrists and wrenching forward.

He hit the soft earth with one knee, the other heel digging in, fighting back against the dragging force. Knowing instantly, instinctively, that going down into that dark, damp earth would not end well for him.

He heard the rush of air, felt the burst of heat, and he twisted away from it. Pulling hard at the root as he did, trying to snap it.