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Toren Daen

Wolfrum’s words settled across the room like a thick blanket. Not the kind that kept you warm in the depths of winter. No, this was akin to the sort a murderer would wrap around your mouth to cut off your screams. It was suffocating, a presence within that stole life from everything around it.

“The downfall of a Scythe,” I said after a minute, the words leaving my mouth as if torn. “And how exactly are you going to do this, Wolfrum?” I challenged.

“Seris brought me in because she thought I had basilisk blood,” Wolfrum spat, resuming his manic, almost crazed pacing. “I didn’t know how she figured. But she was right. I manifested a few weeks ago. Right after you went to the Beast Glades. I’d been asking myself what I should do. What options I had next, when I was doomed to just be a pawn for the rest of my life. And as if a message from the Sovereigns themselves, they bestowed me with their answer.”

I licked my lips, my mind whirling at a hundred miles an hour. If I hadn’t been meditating just a moment before, I suspected I wouldn’t be so equipped to process all of this. I felt my brows narrow as I tried to approach this logically, simultaneously feeling the tension of it all agitating my nerves.

Wolfrum Redwater had acted as an agent of Seris in the original canon of that otherworld novel after she’d erected a mana barrier around all of Sehz-Clar, keeping Agrona and the Legacy herself locked out. Except, just as Seris had sent Caera on a mission to contact Arthur in Dicathen, Wolfrum–who’d been accompanying Caera as an agent–had betrayed her, revealing himself to be a double agent for Dragoth Vritra and colluding with forces from Vechor.

But from how he’s talking, I thought, centering on one thing, he doesn’t appear to be working for anyone else. Only himself. Does that mean Dragoth isn’t a part of this?

“And you plan to somehow harm Seris,” I said slowly, “after all she has done for you? To try and bring about her downfall?”

“After all she has done for me?!” Wolfrum snapped, rounding on me with a spark of fire in his eyes. ”She made me a glorified secretary, Spellsong! Do you have any idea how long I worked under her? How long it took me to learn her true identity, apart from Lady Shorn? All those years I endured her cold remarks and errant personality. All for some upstart to surpass me in months! How good you must be in bed, Toren, for her to just… throw away all I’ve done!”

I felt my anger rise as Wolfrum levied his accusation. I restrained the urge to throw myself at him and wrap my fingers around his throat, the implication against Seris making something dark in my gut churn.

Instead, I closed my eyes, my fingers flexing as I took a measured breath.

For some reason I couldn’t understand, Wolfrum was confiding this to me. Talking to me while I was leashed in a cage. Even if he was using it to hurl insults and trying to raise my ire, he didn’t have to approach me, did he?

“Keep him talking,” Aurora hissed in my ear, her fury still palpable from being caged. “Never interrupt an enemy when they are making a mistake. Never.”

“So you’re doing this because of me,” I accused, the sharp edge to my voice palpable. “Because you’re jealous of what I’ve gained?”

“You gained nothing,” Wolfrum shot back. He looked like he wanted to march forward, but I detected a bare trace of fear in his eyes that still stayed his anger. “And still I’m relegated to secretary. That’s all I would’ve ever been, but not now.”

And suddenly, it clicked. Why Wolfrum was here, monologuing about his plans.

“You’ve never told anyone this, have you?” I said, narrowing my eyes. I took a step forward, and in turn, Wolfrum stepped back. “That’s why you’re here, telling me this. It’s built and built and built for so long. And now you need someone to rant to. To try and make yourself feel justified for the sin you’re about to commit. For the act of betrayal.”

Wolfrum wilted for a moment, but then I heard something dark in his heartbeat twist. I hastily turned to the side, barely avoiding a burst of black wind on instinct. I lost a few locks of my golden hair as the arc of void wind dug into the floor of my cell nearby.

I halted in my steps, sensing the danger of moving any further toward the mentally unstable mage. Wolfrum was holding out a trembling hand, his arm shaking and his eyes wide as he stared at me with a familiar madness. The same madness I’d felt as I’d seen the crossroads before me in Burim.

Wolfrum engaged his mana, and a familiar object appeared out of a dimension ring on his right hand. My eyes widened as Aurora’s relic settled into his fingers, and I felt the urge to launch myself at him again.

“She knew about this,” Wolfrum said with a shaking voice. “Knew about it the moment Sevren Denoir left the Relictombs. Knew about it when it was given to you. And I have all the proof I need in my ring, along with more.”

I felt my heart drop out of the bottom of my stomach as the words registered. If Wolfrum were to escape, to bring that evidence to the right people–

I threw myself forward with a snarl. I was slow–pitifully, painfully slow without mana enhancing my body. Yet the action still seemed to catch Wolfrum off guard. He stumbled backward as I launched myself at him, falling on his ass with a surprised cry. My eyes flashed as my hands reached for the relic.

My shackles lurched as they tugged on something, sending my leap into a tumble. My head cracked against the stones hard, my vision flashing as I failed my objective. Wolfrum scrambled backward, his breathing quick with fear.

“Coward!” I called after Wolfrum, a mana chain tying my cuffs to a point further back in my cell. “Envious, bitter wretch!” I snarled, my heart thundering with growing fear.

“I can’t kill you,” Wolfrum said quietly. “You’ll be needed at a trial. At her trial. To prove that I’m right. That this is what is deserved.”

“Deserved?!” I snapped, my meditative trance breaking into a million shards. At that moment, I didn’t think I hated anyone more. “You’re so desperate to appeal to people who never cared for you that you’ll betray the one who does?!”

“Shut up!” Wolfrum yelled in response, his face clenching as veins of anger erupted across his face. “You don’t know anything, Spellsong. Nothing!”

“I know an envious child when I see one,” I snapped, words the only thing I could throw right now. Internally, I was trying desperately to think of a way to remove my shackles, to escape the binds of steel around my wrists. I just needed to keep Wolfrum here. Keep him occupied.

Wolfrum stood, shakily dusting off his tunic. “I have an appointment to keep. People to meet with. You… You can’t stop me. Nobody can,” he said, more to himself than to me.

I watched with hateful eyes as Wolfrum stumbled out of the prison cell. I gnashed my teeth from the floor, the implications of his words striking like hammer blows inside my mind. If it became known that Seris had shielded Sevren from having his relic discovered–which I hadn’t even known–then the consequences would be disastrous.

I could picture it in my mind. The entirety of Highblood Denoir–adopted and not–executed before the High Sovereign himself. Their empty, void-like intent clawed at the insides of my skull, each mind withered away. Sevren and Caera looked at me with hollow eyes. Lenora clutched her son, her mouth opened in one last breath of despair. I could see Wade and Naereni there, too, both condemned for associating with me. The last of Karsien’s legacy would flicker away like soulfire particles, amounting to nothing.

And at the forefront of the mental image was another body, deprived of will. One that once would’ve been full of lithe, sleek grace. One who bore hair kissed by silver and lavender, with eyes that could see anything they wished. Except in my vision, they were so, so empty. The inquisitive mind behind them had been scoured away as a tsunami tears away buildings in its path. Torn away as meat sloughs off a bone.

All of them just like Greahd.

And above the still-living corpses of everyone I knew, I could only see Agrona’s twinkling ruby eyes, each quietly mocking.

No, I thought feverishly, my heartbeat pounding in my chest. No, I won’t let him take more from me. I won’t let him have them.

I gnashed my teeth, beginning to pace in my empty cell much as Wolfrum had a minute before. I clenched my jaw so hard I feared my teeth might crack.

What’s stopping my mana core from functioning? I asked myself, taking a bare moment to look inside. All my mana was compressed into myself, like a lid forcefully fastened to a pot of boiling water. It wasn’t allowed to escape, but–

I froze in my tracks, my eyes widening. Like a lid on a pot of boiling water.

In that analogy, what opening would the lid be covering, exactly?

“Aurora,” I said aloud quickly, my mind beginning to spin. “Aurora, can you check my core? Tell me how these shackles work, the best you can! How are they cutting off my mana sense?”

I felt as my bond began to trace my thoughts, her own emotions shifting to determination and hope as she saw what I was thinking. The phoenix shade–invisible to me–dove into my core. And I sensed her mind light up with quiet triumph.

“This device restricts your mana veins and channels,” she said quickly. “Just as you guessed. It squeezes them off like a clamp over a hose, stopping their flow! Which means–”

Which means that I can counteract it, I thought with growing determination. I can fight against that effect.

The principles of my newest technique, Resonant Flow, worked on a fundamentally similar concept. Except instead of closing off my mana veins and channels, I temporarily widened them and increased their flow, allowing for far more mana to be delivered to every inch of my body and to be utilized at a single time.

And these shackles worked by the inverse. Which meant I could break out.

They can’t hold me, I thought, resolve settling within my bones. Those still ached, and I suspected they’d ache even more after what I was about to do.

“Be careful, my bond,” Aurora transmitted, appearing beside me and laying a hand on my shoulder. “This technique of yours runs the risk of doing irreparable damage.”

I know, I thought with gritted teeth. Images of Seris’ dead eyes flashed through my mind again. But I refuse to let more pay for my actions.

I commanded my heart to beat. And under the heedful call of its master, the organ slammed against my ribcage with the force of an asura’s stroke. I winced in pain. Again!

My heartfire surged in my chest as I felt the technique begin to engage. Sweat beaded on my skin as aether surged along my conduits, pressing them outward. Something pushed back, of course, but I grit my teeth.

The scar over my heart began to leak light, casting my cell in the vibrant kiss of sunrise. I heaved for breath as mana began to funnel over my limbs, a bare trickle inching past the restraining artifact.

I felt strength return to my muscles as mana seeped into them. I grit my teeth, then pulled.

For an instant, I was afraid it wasn’t enough. The energy that seeped into my body was minimal and bare by my usual standards, and I felt a streak of fear as I contemplated the possibility that this wouldn’t see me through.

I heard a single whine, like the low pitch of an engine as it strained. The runes adorning my mana cuffs flashed a few times, flickering in and out as the metal creaked.

The shackles around my wrists exploded into shrapnel as they broke apart, peppering the walls with metal shards. More than a few lodged into my skin, drawing blood and causing me to grunt in pain. I fell to my knees, Resonant Flow evaporating as I failed to maintain the technique any longer.

I heaved for breath, my mana sense returning in one steady rush like molten honey across my veins. Yet as it cascaded down my arms, I felt the ache of my battle with Arthur make itself known once more. My arms trembled weakly as I felt a simultaneous surge of strength and burning weakness.

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I pulled myself to my feet unsteadily, blood leaking from a dozen wounds across my chest where the shards of metal protruded from my linen shirt. The pain radiating from my body, however, was inconsequential to the fear that pervaded my every thought.

I stumbled toward the door of my cell. Runes flashed along the walls, flaring a bright yellow as they attempted to drain my mana.

I grit my teeth, clamping down on the attempted pull as I lurched forward. My internal mana control was superb, honed by many months of assimilation and chasing the prowess of my asuran bond. The draining sensation stuttered, failing to find purchase as my mind battled the protections inlaid into the stones.

I reached the door, my breath straining as I struggled to keep my power in check. There was an ominous hum building in the back of my mind as the spellforms carved into each rock failed. I took a deep breath, feeling as Aurora helped center my mind.

Then I punched the steel door. The block of solid metal was ripped from its hinges, flying into the hallway beyond with the force of a cannonball. A fist-sized dent was apparent on the exterior as it flew away.

I heard the shocked cries of the guards as I suddenly appeared before them. The eyes of two Alacryan soldiers widened in surprise as I darted from my cell. One opened his mouth, no doubt to scream in alarm, but a barrier of sound enveloped him, choking off his words.

I slammed my fist into his gut, cratering his armor. He fell limp with a whimper.

I whirled, slipping the strike of the other guard’s rabid spear thrust. I grabbed the shaft of metal, before pulling it forward. The terrified striker tried to engage some sort of earth rune, but a quick twist of his weapon sent the butt of the spear smashing into his jaw.

He fell limp, relinquishing his weapon to me in a spray of teeth.

I felt a wave of guilt rise through my chest as I saw what I’d done to his jaw, but I couldn’t afford to be gentle now. I clenched the shaft of the spear tight, mana coursing through my veins as I inspected the hallway. I tried to hone in on my heartfire senses, trying desperately to detect where Wolfrum had gone.

Take the left path! Aurora commanded, her voice harsh and stern at once. There are lingering mana traces there! I shall guide you, my bond!

I didn’t think twice, trusting in my soul-bound companion. I blurred along the hallway, passing more guards as I followed her instructions. I spun on my heels midair, the spear in my hands flashing as I used it to bat away oncoming spells that attempted to flay me alive.

An alarm gradually began to ring through the prison complex, thundering through the stones like a war drum. I ignored it, continuing on.

Turn right here! Aurora’s voice commanded. He’s going toward the surface! You’re catching up!

I skidded around a corner, coming face to face with a dozen guards. They all stumbled backward in fear as my intent washed over them, the anxiety and worry and fury battering them like waves struck a wooden ship in a storm. More than a few dwarves began to call on their magic, raising walls of earth and metal to bar by path. The Alacryans with them followed suit, cementing the barrier to my path.

I grit my teeth, my heartbeat resounding in my ears. My fingers trembled where they clutched the haft of the spear. Wolfrum will get away if I let him! I thought in a panic. I can’t let anything bar my path! Can’t let them keep me from the traitor!

I cocked my arm back, leveraging the spear as I faced the massive wall of stone and metal before me. I could hear the heartfires of the frightened guards beyond, each trembling as my intent redoubled. I engaged my Acquire Phase, my core lurching and my body burning as the chains along my left arm glowed a bloody red.

A telekinetic stream of force appeared before me as I imbued the spear in my hands with sound mana. It vibrated at supersonic speeds as I heated the speartip with a dose of fire magic, the structure within breaking down at the concentration of power. The tip glowed red-hot as it vibrated like a saw, the mana packed into it warping the air. Then it burst into flames.

I gnashed my teeth, using the mana signatures of my foes as an anchor.

Then I threw the spear. The stream of psychic force accelerated the spear like a bolt from the asura themselves, turning it into a surging streak of force. It passed through the walls in front of me without resistance, shattering rock and obliterating metal in a concussive wave that traveled in the blink of an eye.

I didn’t have time to check on the mages who had tried to use those barriers to protect themselves from me, though I was distantly aware that many of their lifeforces radiated the effects of wounds and damage. The shockwave that obliterated their protection and the shrapnel no doubt had caused untold damage among the defending guards.

I blurred through the gap, ignoring the flaming rubble as I surged through the stone hallways.

And then I sensed it. For the first time, I caught the barest tremble of Wolfrum’s dark heartbeat in my ears. I felt my pupils dilate and my mouth pull into a snarl. I’d caught the scent of my prey’s fear. Their terror.

I erupted from a doorway, emerging into the streets of Burim in a conflagration of fire. My body protested as I skidded to a halt, smoke trailing behind me from the building. The alarm ringing through the prison complex was audible even now, but it was muffled by my single-track attention as I listened for the heartbeat of my prey.

The building I’d emerged from was actually close to the floor of Burim. If I looked out from the massive stalactite I was on, I could make out small rivers of magma glowing in the darkness far below. If I were in a better state of mind, perhaps I’d take more time to observe my surroundings.

Dwarves around me shied back in shock and fear as I turned in a slow circle, many calling for help or reaching for weapons. I ignored them, looking upward.

And I saw Wolfrum, far beyond on a distant platform that kissed the edge of a stalactite. He’d relinquished his disguise of Xander, instead revealing a man with mismatched eyes and choppy dark hair. And as we locked gazes from a thousand feet away, I felt his fear skyrocket. I savored that sense like fine wine as I held him in my eyes.

“You can’t escape me,” I whispered, feeling my body ache as I shifted my stance, crouching as I engaged my magic. “You are my prey,” I hissed.

Wolfrum certainly couldn’t hear me, but I knew he could read my lips. Read my intent. Read what was going to happen to him when my fingers closed around his throat.

He turned, running into the darkness as if Agrona himself were hot on his heels.

That darkness would not save him.

I surged upward in a conflagration of mindfire force as I arced toward another platform. My emblem flared as I thrust my hands out, latching out with pulling force as I yanked myself toward another gap.

I smashed into the side of a massive stalactite, rock cratering around my feet as I hit it with the force of a missile. My body trembled, a shiver running through it that told me I was still weak. My body nearly broke from the strain.

I ignored that as I began running up the length of the rock, the soles of my boots glowing white as my magic kept my feet lashed to the stone. I pumped my arms, ignoring the buildup of mana far behind me as mages prepared their spells.

I crouched, then backflipped off the stalagmite in a burst of rock-splintering force. I rocketed toward the platform I’d spotted Wolfrum on, my nostrils flaring as I honed in on the traitor.

I skidded to a halt, my heartbeat slowing as my neck turned like a bird of prey searching for its meal. The people around me shied away as my intent radiated out, men crowding back into their storefronts and women clutching their children.

I inhaled slowly through my nose, settling my thoughts for a moment.

Then I turned, catching the trail once more. “You can’t run, traitor,” I said aloud, my voice oscillating ominously from unconscious use of sound magic. I stalked forward, smoking footprints left behind as the crowds parted for me.

I found the building easily enough. His intent radiated a quiet terror, washing against me as I loped toward it, a snarl building on my lips as fire sputtered around me.

This hatred I felt deep in my gut… It was unlike me. I hadn’t felt something like this since Mardeth. But just like the wretched Vicar of Plague, the traitor threatened something he should have never touched.

And then something else surged from the building. A volley of blood iron spikes erupting from the ground forced me to quickly reorient, the shards of black metal peppering the street beyond and eliciting cries of terror from the civilians beyond.

“There is another within,” Aurora informed me. “A colluder.”

A man emerged from the building–one I immediately found familiar. Jordan Redwater strutted from the smoke, the commando’s eyes surging malevolently as he faced me. “Maybe you should pick on someone your own size, Spellsong,” he mocked, the war paint under his eyes seeming to darken as a sword of blood iron appeared in his grip. “Leave our little lackey out of this, eh? I’ve always wanted to see what would happen if I tried to drive this sword into your gut.”

Behind him, Wolfrum was staring out, trembling all across his body as my intent slammed into him. I noticed a familiar device in his hands, one that made me snarl in fury. Of course, there were more people in on the plot.

Jordan and Wolfrum were no doubt related by blood. I should have expected this.

“Run along, little brother,” Jordan said to the traitor behind him. “Meet up with the rest of the Bastards Victorious. They’d love to hear all you’ve told me here.”

Wolfrum hesitated, his eyes blowing wide as anger surged through him. “But if I do that, then all the credit for–”

A rock streaked in from the side, outlined in white as it nearly brained Wolfrum in the skull. Except a spike of blood iron intercepted it, leaving the boy to stumble backward in terror.

“You should be focusing on me,” Jordan–the sick bastard–said as Wolfrum began to scramble away. His mana flared, revealing his status to me as a mid-silver core mage. He grinned malevolently as he flexed. Blood iron plates, each conjured scute the color of darkest night, began to layer themselves over him into full armor. “I’ve always wanted to–”

I appeared in front of the Redwater mage, my Acquire Phase burning hot in my veins. I kept my eyes focused on Wolfrum far beyond as my hand grasped Jordan’s throat, the indent of my fingers causing the black metal to warp. “Wha–”

I shifted my stance, swinging my foot back and sweeping Jordan’s legs out from under him. The armor around his legs shattered into a million shards as his bones cracked.

Then I thrust my hand downward, slamming the back of his head into the ground. The entire platform trembled as a crater opened up beneath him. He gasped in pain and agony as his armor of Vritra-tainted metal shattered. The shards of it dug into my fingers, adding more blood to the flow.

I exhaled, barely acknowledging the wretch at my feet. He gasped like a dying fish as he stared up at me uncomprehendingly. I didn’t say anything, just pointed two fingers at his head.

“Wait, wait!” he cried, blood streaming from his lips. “I can tell–”

A beam of plasma erupted from my middle and index fingers, searing through his head and out the other side. His heartfire winked out like a puff of mist. The scent of burnt flesh radiated into the air as Jordan Redwater died.

The entire time, I hadn’t taken my eyes away from Wolfrum. He’d managed to get even further away, and I felt a surge of fear and trepidation roil through me as he began to input mana into the anvil-shaped device in his hand.

The tempus warp that had taken me to the Beast Glades, covered in cracks and wear from overuse, sputtered to life in his palms. No doubt he’d stolen it from Seris, too. A portal began to fuzz into existence in slow motion, a gateway of escape for this traitor.

Images of Sevren, Caera, and Seris, each of their minds scoured away at Agrona’s feet, flashed into my mind again as my Acquire Phase retreated, my exhaustion making itself known once more. I stumbled, a growl building in the back of my throat as I tasted copper in my mouth.

“You can’t falter now!” Aurora yelled across my mind as I nearly toppled over. “Do not let him escape! The portal is opening!”

I groaned, grabbing a large shard of blood iron near Jordan’s corpse. It dug a larger cut into my palm as I clenched it like a dagger, stumbling forward. Wolfrum was just about to enter the portal, his eyes staring fearfully back at me.

I engaged my mana one more time, surging forward with the speed of a nascent asura. Wolfrum tumbled backward, sliding through the pane of purple just as I was about to reach him. His mismatched eyes radiated triumph as he moved through the tear of spatium.

I saw my chance slipping away in slow motion, the world slowing down as he began to fall through the pane of purple.

No, I thought, my eyes narrowing onto Wolfrum’s hand. Where he kept his dimension ring. No. He won’t escape me.

I cocked my hand back, then threw the shard of blood-iron with a burst of telekinetic force.

Blood sprayed. A muted scream. And then the portal snapped shut.

I tumbled weakly across the stones, rolling to a stop as I hit the rock exactly where Wolfrum had been a moment before. He was gone, the tempus warp having successfully whisked him away to who-knew-where.

I felt Aurora’s comforting hand across my back as I groaned, my vision swimming as I pulled myself to my hands and knees.

At my feet was a severed hand. Wolfrum’s hand, still pumping blood from where I’d severed it with a last-ditch effort. In its clutching grasp was the tempus warp, cracked from overuse.

I grabbed it headily, tearing the dimension ring from the limp finger and allowing the tempus warp to clink to the ground. The macabre nature of my action was lost as I vaguely sifted through the contents.

I felt my mouth go dry as each item revealed itself to me. Aurora’s relic was in there, but so were dozens of papers that meticulously detailed many of Seris’ operations. Perhaps her sheltering of Sevren and the bronze-metal brooch would’ve been the largest ‘offense’ had this been presented to the Vritra, but I had no doubt that the contents of this ring would damn her to a cramped cell in the pits of Taegrin Caelum.

I clutched the dimension ring as a greedy man hoards his coins, holding it close as I blinked with exhaustion. All around me, mages began to finally array themselves in combat formations, leaders barking orders and preparing for combat as they surrounded me.

I ignored them all. That wasn’t what mattered. Maybe Wolfrum got away–and he would need to be caught–but I’d deprived him of his evidence. Of his means. That… That was enough for now.

I swallowed, looking upward as the battlemages around me gradually went silent, fear radiating through their intent of an entirely different kind.

Seris was deathly angry; that much hadn’t changed. But as the hovering mage took in the devastation around me, Jordan Redwater’s decimated corpse, and the severed hand at my feet, I saw her face dip more toward confusion.

I gave her what I hoped was a winning smile as my body trembled. “Hey, Seris,” I said weakly, holding up the dimension ring as I drank in the sight of her. “I think… think you’d want this.”

The Scythe set herself down nearby as I fell backward in exhaustion. She strode forward, the entire world seeming to hold its breath as she stared down at me, her face twisting with displeasure. “What am I to make of this, Lord Daen?” she asked, addressing me formally.

I felt a mark of sadness at that, before holding up the ring to her. She hesitantly lowered her fingers to mine, brushing them against the ring. Her onyx eyes flicked to the severed hand still clutched in my other grip. “Wolfrum–Xander–whatever,” I said tiredly, “was gonna take that.”

Seris’ eyes widened as she inspected the dimension ring, her face paling for a moment. I watched as the blood seemed to leave her body, her mouth working soundlessly as she no doubt reached the same conclusion I did.

When she looked back down at me next, there was something strangely haunted there. An unasked question. She hadn’t released my limp hand from hers. Instead, she was squeezing tighter and tighter.

“Did you search through this ring yourself, Toren?” she asked quietly, sounding uncertain.

I fought to keep my eyes open, my lids threatening to close. “I did.”

Seris was quiet as she stood over my body. Then she slowly knelt, her dress absorbing the dust around us. She brushed a hand across my forehead, pushing my hair out of my eyes as she forced me to match her own. Her slim hand moved my head with gentle firmness, ensuring I couldn’t look away. “And what do you make of what was inside?”

I exhaled lightly. Even without my knowledge of the future, the information in that dimension ring painted a picture of a woman who took many, many risks. Who directly defied the Vritra in covert, undercover ways, gradually working toward something.

I allowed a smile to stretch over my face as Seris’ hand clenched around mine. Her fingers twitched in tune with her brow, something between worry and exasperation threatening to break free. “I told you before that what I did… would help your cause,” I said with a breath as Seris’ fingers snaked through mine in a strange, desperate draw. I blinked weakly, trying not to succumb to the intensity of the woman’s biting intent as she knelt over my exhausted form. “He doesn’t get to win.”

And then my mind left me as I slipped back into unconsciousness. I tried not to chuckle at the irony of it all as everything went black. In only a few days, this had happened twice?