More of Emrys’s fireballs began to miss their mark. His heart hammered in his chest at the sight of the enormous bird angling straight toward him. Most likely Tobias was planning to pull up before impact, but the possibility remained that the spirit intended a full body strike. He probably had enough strength left to survive the impact, whereas Emrys would be absolutely brutalized by the strike.

The fire mage ceased the barrage of fireballs to instead draw together a swirling shield of fire. He focused The fire directly above his head both empowering the flames and thickening the shield.

Tobias might be willing to risk the impact to the ground, but would he feel the same if it also involved penetrating a barrier of flame?

The hawk spread his wings and canceled his descent. Emrys’s shield was pushed down by the sudden wind, but a mage couldn’t be hurt by his own fire.

Before the hawk could fly too far away again, Emrys grabbed hold of his fire shield and threw it at the bird. It spun like a frisbee and caught Tobias straight in the chest.

The hawk let out a soul-wrenching shriek. Emma screamed and clutched his ears. There was magic in that screech, an aural attack that couldn’t be blocked by mere fire.

If he wanted to stay ahead in this fight, he would have to unleash a bigger spell. Firestorm was something he’d only cast a handful of times. He tended to prefer strengthening his favorite spells, finding different ways to modify them so they could become the best option in any scenario.

But Firestorm just didn’t have the option for modification, at least not in any appreciable way. It was a beefy, localized attack, for all that it had a wide area of effect.

He didn’t like it. But it was the best option for the moment.

He began to cast.

Tobias had slunk away both to lick his wounds and to work on his own next spell. Even as he drew together his own fire magic, Emrys could feel the coalescence of air mana around the hawk.

The blessing and the curse of mage battles, Emrys thought, was that they would have the opportunity to cast a greater spell, but in doing so they gave their opponent the chance to do the same.

What it came down to was speed, and Emrys drew fire in the same way he drew breath.

The hawk was circling in the air above him, and suddenly that air was filled with fire. He shrieked and dodged out of the way, but the rain of fire blinded him in those first moments. He dodged in exactly the wrong direction and flew through the entire storm, shrieking all the way.

Tobias gathered the last of the air mana that he needed for his spell. Once he was directly overhead, he flapped his wings to release a powerful gust of wind.

Emrys tried to run off to the side, but he was too slow to evade the wide attack. The gust knocked him flat on his back.

Tobias descended like an angel of death. His wings were spread wide and his talents were splayed out to eviscerate the mage.

“Get up!” Zereh screamed. “Get out of the way!”

But there wasn’t time. He was still scrambling to his feet and Tobias was fast approaching.

“You care about him, don’t you?”

“Seriously?” Zereh snapped. “You’re asking that right now?”

The moment Tobias’s talons connected with Emrys’s body, a golden shield engulfed him. Tobias scrabbled against it but the shield was impenetrable.

Emrys dug a gold coin out of his pocket. It was embossed by the goddess of protection’s sigil. The crossed swords glowed with the same golden light of the shield.

He slumped to the ground. The coin’s ability would recharge, but not for another 24 hours. If he got hit again, he was a goner.

The problem was the wings. Tobias was so agile and had infinitely more maneuverability in the air than Emrys did on the ground. He needed a way to eliminate that advantage .

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He curled his fingers into the wet grass. The coin wasn’t the only thing he’d gotten from the dungeon. He was still wearing the ring that enhanced his proficiency with water and earth.

He sank into the feeling he’d had in the dungeon, when an unseen force was pulling him into the water. Once he’d given in to the force, he’d understood it was the dungeon’s intent exerting its influence rather than a physical being. This time, he wasn’t looking for a dungeon. He was hoping to get that feeling from the universe. His friend.

His friend who would definitely help him not die in the next five minutes.

Emrys imagined all the water left over from Zereh’s fight being pulled out of the ground and into the air. Humidity so thick that it condensed on Tobias’s wings, weighing him down and dragging him to earth.

He imagined it, and he asked for it. Begged for it.

It was risky to use a new spell in a fight. Downright dangerous, really. Old man Winter would have his head if he knew he was not only using a new spell, but a massive new spell in a completely new element.

But it didn’t feel like a spell. He wasn’t using his own mana to draw the magic into place. It felt like a conversation. He asked for water, and the universe told him he could only use rainwater in the field. He asked for it to pool into a giant sphere of liquid and was told it would have to take the form of heavy humidity instead. He asked that it condense on the hawk’s wings and was answered by what felt like a sarcastic, “Obviously.”

Just like that, Tobias was struggling to fly. The beat of his wings grew sluggish and strained.

Emrys rubbed his eyes like he was waking up. Tobias was distracted by the humidity, not quite failing to stay airborne, but knowing he ought to land before it became more of a problem. He was moving slower, and that would make all the difference.

Without worrying his attacks would miss, Emrys was able to heat them to their maximum potential. White hot fireballs landed one after another, each one a direct hit.

The hawk’s strength finally gave out. The beast fell steaming down to earth.

Emrys sank to his knees. It was over. It was done.

He had defeated the spirit of Westover.

Zereh cheered.

Emrys locked eyes with her and grinned. It was done. The hard part was over and they were ready to complete the altar.

“That was amazing,” Zereh said when he rejoined them. “I didn’t know you knew anything besides fire spells.”

“I really don’t,” Emrys shrugged, a little embarrassed. “I mean I know a small healing spell for emergencies. But this was just something I came up with in the moment.”

“I didn’t even know that was possible.”

“For most people, it isn’t.” Greg peered at Emrys. “Why is it possible for you?”

The arcanist shrunk into himself. “I don’t know.”

“Hey. How about you put in that third flower?” Zereh stepped forward, slightly in front of Emrys.

Greg forced a smile. “Of course.”

He threaded the third Midnight Silk into the shrine. It gleamed white, and two white lines connected it to the other flowers. The light of the triangle flowed down over the entire altar, trickling through the carvings until it was all aglow.

“Well. There it is. The shrine to the Unknown God is complete.”

“What’s going to happen now? Is he going to do anything here, now that the territory is his?”

“Probably not,” said Greg. “He doesn’t do much. Prefers more to fade into obscurity.”

“Why did you do this, then? Why pick a fight with two local deities in the middle of nowhere, if the Unknown God doesn’t even care?”

Greg pulled a case of ale out of his bag. He passed a bottle to Emrys and Zereh each and set the rest on the altar. “It seemed like the thing to do.”

Zereh popped the cap off of her bottle and took a sip. Her eyes widened. It was a powerful brew, refreshing health, stamina and mana all at once.

“Who exactly are you?” she asked. “I know you’re not, you know, from around here. And most people I know wouldn’t be able to organize a quest like this.”

“What gave me away?”

“You laughed at my superman joke.”

“Ah. My kryptonite.” Greg shook his head. “My friends call me Craig.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Do your friends know your last name, too?”

“Owens.”

“Shut up, you are not.”

Greg shrugged. “Believe me or don’t, it’s all the same to me.”

“But why? Is this normal for you, to wander around and interact with the world?”

“No.” He looked suddenly serious. “The truth is, I was hoping to meet you specifically. Well, not you. Him.” The old man nodded toward Emrys.

The arcanist stiffened. “Do I know you?”

“No. But I know Fiordna. She told me quite a story about you.”

This, Emrys thought, was the exact reason nobody except immortals should meddle in the affairs of gods. Once they had you in their grasp they never, ever let go.

“Who’s Fiordna?” Zereh asked.

“The goddess of prophecy,” Emrys muttered. “She doesn’t like me much.”

“I just wanted to meet you, is all,” said Greg. “And now I have, I must say I’m impressed. I don’t know anyone who could have pulled off a stunt like that.” He finished his beer. “Keep an eye on this one,” he said to Zereh. “He’s special.”

“Now hold on.” Zereh motioned for him to sit back down. “We finished your quest, shouldn’t you be giving us a reward? I’ve been patient, but I can’t just let you leave.”

“Ah! Of course, my apologies.” The old man patted his pockets down, frowning heavily as he did. “I really should have planned something out.”

Zereh just folded her arms and waited. There was no mercy in her gaze.

“Here we go. This ought to be suitable.” With no more ceremony than that, he handed her a flower pot. It was a nice flower pot, made of plain terracotta with no ceramic glaze, with a round shape, tapering inwards.

Zereh took it uncertainly. “Thank…you?”

Greg winked. “It’s a dungeon core. Fill it up with dirt and an intact mana root, and you can grow your very own dungeon.”

Zereh’s eyes widened, and she tucked it quickly into her bag. “Thank you.” Her eyes flicked to Emrys, who had gone completely still. “Not that we’ll use it,” she said. “But thank you.”