It’s different from before. When I renewed our spells, magic channeled along the threads that sewed our souls to our bodies, strengthening the bond. But the moment I activate the Core Bond spell with Noli, the threads in her body seem to come to life.

Strands of light reach up for Noli’s soul, connecting with a thrum of magic that pulses through her like a network of nerves. Her soul sinks down into her chest, and the threads twist and whirl like an aurora. This doesn’t look anything like the way Noli’s soul had been attached to her toy vessel, the threads stabbing through her limbs at sharp angles, like something sewed haphazardly together. Now the magic seems more like streams, curving and organic, the light merging with her soul instead of stitched through it. I’m not witnessing a soul being bound to something, I’m witnessing her magic healing. Two broken parts mending into one.

“What did you do?” Saru demands, retreating a pace from the illuminated circle.

Zyneth doesn’t answer. He’s a blur of movement, ducking around Saru’s blade to slam a palm into the back of her elbow, sending her knife flying. Saru cries out, lurching back, and suddenly she’s on the defensive. Even with one arm uselessly hanging from his side, he moves with practiced, precise moves. A blow catches her in the temple, and as she’s stumbling away he hooks a foot behind her heel, sending her careening to the ground with terrifying efficiency. Jesus Christ. Who is this guy?

But instead of dealing a final blow, Zyneth offers a hand up. “Now. Are you ready to help defeat this monster, or will I need to ensure you’re no longer a threat to my friend?”

Bewildered, Saru glances from Zyneth’s hand, to me, to Noli. Her eyes are still closed, but she takes in a sudden deep breath, as if waking up from a long sleep. Saru’s eyes widen, and for a moment I see her not for her band’s fearless leader, but for the uncertain, overwhelmed girl that she is, thrown into a situation no one ever could have prepared for. Christ, she’s basically a kid. Probably eighteen, nineteen tops.

“You really were helping her?” Saru asks.

“Yes.” Zyneth doesn’t wait for Saru to process this. He grabs her arm and yanks her back to her feet. “But we’ve no time to discuss now. Quick. Will you fight with us?”

Saru looks back at the battle, where Attiru is retreating from the predator’s attacks, and Rezira and Tetara are still locked in combat. Even as we watch, Rezira is flung back as the raging orc breaks free of a grapple and snatches up her ax once more.

And just like that, kid-Saru is gone, replaced by her fearless leader mask. “Tell your friend to back off,” she says, snatching up her dropped dagger. Zyneth lets her. “The monster is the target of her Rage. She’ll focus on that if no one gets in her way.”

Zyneth waits until Saru dashes past me before he follows, casting me a brief glance. “Stay here,” he says, as if I have any way of getting anywhere else. “We’ll end this quickly.”

I want to believe him. But with Zyneth no longer feeding me mana, I know—and so the predator knows—this is the end game. It hasn’t grown larger, but it’s more present in my mind. Stronger than I’ve ever felt it before. I take an instinctive step back, as if this will quiet the maelstrom of thoughts that tear through my mind. It can’t control me from this distance, can it? I don’t want to take the chance, retreating next to Noli’s still sleeping body.

Zyneth stops Rezira from reengaging with Tetara as Saru runs to her friend’s side. Zyneth is speaking to her, though I can’t hear what from this distance, and Saru throws her blade into the void as it continues to back Attiru against the wall of the cottage. The predator snarls and flinches as Saru’s attack hits home. Tetara spins at the sound, Rezira seemingly forgotten, and charges back toward the predator, her Enraged state apparently only allowing her a single objective at a time.

They’re all fighting the predator—together, now.

Rezira gives Saru a perplexed look as she joins the fray, but casts a glowing blue spell over Zyneth as he joins them, lightning summoned to either hand. Attiru is clearly relieved by the backup, and Tetara—well, I doubt she’s even aware of the alliance that’s just formed, too intent on pulverizing the predator. Slowly, some vague shape of cohesion takes place. In that moment, I feel the predator’s confidence waver.

Even so, I’m worried. Noli is still asleep, Attiru is trying to retreat, and despite Saru, Zyneth, and Tetara all launching attacks of their own, the creature is deflecting them with ease. It’s got to be at least twice as powerful as it had been last time. If we can survive long enough to wear it down, get it to use up all its energy, then we should win—assuming everyone can survive that long. But if it manages to snag just one of their souls, we’ll be down a fighter, and it will be even stronger.

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I realize my mistake even as these thoughts cross my mind—because now the predator is reminded of this, too.

Its confidence swells, quickly scanning its four assailants and picking out the easiest target. My soul lurches as I feel its plan crystalize. I have to warn them! But they’re on the other side of the yard, which might as well be miles away, and there’s nothing, nothing I can say or do except watch the scene unfold with mounting horror.

Tetara jumps forward, slashing her ax at the predator, but it dismissively bats her attacks away. Its focus is on someone else.

A dozen spears of black stab forward, converging on Attiru from every direction. They go to jump away, but their back smacks into the side of the cottage, and in that moment of surprise, six spears of black stab through them. They loose a blood-curdling scream, filled with pain and fear, as ink pins their arms and legs to the wall like a taxidermied bug. Their face fills with horror—the same look I’d seen before when I’d been hungrily glowering down at them through the predator’s eyes.

No! Not again.

But this time Noli isn’t here to throw pebbles at it. Tetara and Saru and Zyneth’s desperate attacks are left ignored. No one here can distract it from its prey.

Except me.

I think, somehow, I knew it would come to this. Not always, but at least since when Echo first told me about the predator’s nature, when I was lying broken in the streets of Harrowood, waiting to die. When she explained my link to the Between, I had realized what that meant. I was just never willing to face the idea, too petrified of having to face the predator.

And I’m still petrified. Maybe facing your fears never stops being terrifying. But now, in this moment, it’s do or die, and I know what I have to do.

I’m too far for pebbles—the only thing I have to throw at the predator is my mind. So, for the first time, instead of trying to escape our mental bond, I grab the tether that ties us together and pull. The predator’s mind snaps against me like a rubber band.

Come on, you coward, I call, even as I tremble from fear and exhilaration. Acting is putting on a brave face, even when you don’t mean it. Stepping into the role, even when it isn’t who you are. You want to settle things? I’m right here. No one to stop you.

The predator rages against me. How dare I challenge it. How dare I not be shaking in fear.

But for a moment it wavers. Maybe it senses I’m trying to distract it from its prey. Its attention begins to shift back toward Attiru, pinned, exposed, ready for their soul to be plucked from their chest. I desperately yank on our link again, pouring all my contempt and disdain into the action. I mentally laugh at it. Why the hesitation? Is it afraid?

The predator explodes with outrage. How dare. How dare I not know my place! It will make me know.

The predator yanks violently back on our mental bond, and my mind collides with its, and I’m cast back in that ocean of consciousness, drowning in the creature’s thoughts. My confidence slips and I panic as the waves tear at me, trying to strip away my sense of self, dissolve my identity into its own. I know trying to fight it is futile. It’s far more powerful and immense than me. But I don’t want to lose myself. I don’t want to die. I desperately try to hold on.

It bolts across the yard, paying the others no heed. Tetara swipes at it as it blurs by, and her weapon draws streams of black ichor dripping from its side. I feel ripples of its pain, but the predator hardly notices. It’s seething, indignant, and more than anything it wants to prove me wrong—to prove how powerful it is.

The others cry out as they realize where it’s headed; no one can get here in time. But getting it away from everyone was exactly the idea. Even as I struggle to keep from drowning in its mind, I brace for impact.

The shadows slam into me, crushing me into the ground and shattering my legs before sweeping me up in a wave of black.

[12 points of Bludgeoning damage sustained.]

The void squeezes around me, prying at the crack in my glass. It’s trying to break in again—and if it does, I’ll be lost in its mind, just like last time. But now it’s stronger than before. Smarter. It won’t be caught by any more surprise attacks. Not when everyone is already hurt and tired. If it takes me again, I’ll end up killing all of them.

I’m not going to let that happen.

Echo, I call, reaching for her through the haze. Struggling to focus on my sense of self, my plan—the only thing I have left.

The predator reads my thoughts with a sting of shock at the same moment it pries my glass apart, agony lancing through me.

[5 points of Crushing damage sustained.]

Too consumed by pain, I’m hardly aware as void seeps through the crack. The predator’s brief surprise turns to triumph. My plan doesn’t matter: It’s already won. So instead of letting go, it pours its void into my vial to snuff out every last ounce of my remaining willpower.

Even as my consciousness is fading, suffocating beneath the weight of the predator’s will, I make one last rally. One last reach for the ability I’ve had since the start. Because I might not be able to subdue this creature, but I know one thing that can: the Between.

And I can access it. Or at least, a small pocket of it.

Echo. I don’t know if she can even hear me anymore. I don’t know at what point I’ll lose my connection with her. If it’s already too late. With the last shred of my willpower, I say, Add the predator to my inventory.

Nothing happens.

And with the last crumb of determination I had left now exhausted, my mind dissolves into the dark.

The predator sneers, its glass anchor clutched in its grasp as it turns back to the others—toward its prey.

Then, Echo says, [Affirmative.]

It happens in an instant. The shadows around me vanish. The pressure is gone from my mind. I’m hovering several feet above the ground, the predator’s claws no longer holding me—and then I’m falling.

I hardly have the time or presence of mind to take any of this in as the air whistles past me. The ground is rushing up fast.

And then a hand reaches out to catch me. I land in her palm.

The elf beams down at me, her face gaunt, but her smile unmistakable. Noli wearily sinks to the ground, placing me gently in her lap. She wipes a tear from one of her eyes, and then she signs, “You did it. It’s over. We won.”