Damien watched the warlock fly away after ignoring his jibe. Something was happening outside. The crystal constructs were all rushing toward the exit. Damien had no idea what was going on and he didn’t especially care. All that mattered was anyone in a position to stop him from getting free of his restraints was gone.

You have a plan?

“Yes, but it isn’t going to be pleasant.” Damien had been trying to work his hand free by getting it slippery with blood, but despite cutting himself several times he just couldn’t manage to fit through the tiny gap. His thumb stuck out too far.

You’re not.

“Afraid so.”

Damien clamped his jaw shut and yanked. The skin tore and bone flexed. He kept pulling with all his might. His thumb crunched. Damien moaned as his hand slipped out.

The flesh of his left hand looked like he’d run it through a meat grinder. He wiggled his thumb and winced. Hurt like hell, but it still moved a little. He wouldn’t be doing any fine work with it, but it should be enough.

He wrestled with the buckles of the harness and finally got it free. The buckles had corners honed to a fine point.

Damien smiled. Dad always wanted everything to be able to serve as a weapon in a pinch. Damien said a silent word of thanks and, with the steel buckle held as firmly as his injured hand could manage, hammered it against the crystal binding his right hand.

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Like a deranged woodpecker he slammed the buckle into the restraint. Blue flakes tumbled to the ground. Every blow sent jagged spasms of pain through his injured thumb. Damien ignored the pain—he’d been hurt worse plenty of times in his training—and kept swinging. He had no idea how long Connor would be gone and he wanted to be anywhere else when the warlock returned.

After more strikes than he cared to count a crack formed in the crystal. A fierce grin curved his lips. I’ll show you, you bastard.

He focused on the crack, imagining it was Connor’s mouth, and kept pounding.

He was going to get out of here.

Then he was going to get his strength back and when he did he was going to hunt down Connor Blackman and cut him into bloody chunks.

The restraint shattered and Damien slumped to the ground. He took a moment to gather himself. His soul force didn’t immediately begin regenerating which surprised him.

“Is your power returning?”

Not yet. The effects of the crystal may have warped our flow. It’ll take time to return to normal.

Damien scrambled to his feet. “We don’t have time.”

It takes as long as it takes. Some things simply can’t be rushed. You need to find somewhere to hide.

That was putting it mildly. Without his soul force Damien was nothing more than a slightly above average swordsman. He walked a few steps and stood in front of an unconscious Imogen. Her flawless face was drawn and sunken, her golden hair filthy and clumped together. He wanted to set her free, but Damien could barely look after himself. Even if he got her out of her restraints he had no strength to carry her away or protect her if he had to fight.

He sighed and stroked her cheek. He couldn’t help her now. Damien glanced at Eli and Master Shen. He couldn’t help any of them.

Damien, we have to go.

“I know.” He turned back to Imogen. “I’ll be back for you, all of you, I promise.”

He ran deeper into the mountain, away from the crystal, and his friends, and Connor. Soon, he promised himself, soon he’d be running back, his power restored, to drop this mountain on Connor’s head just like he did Mikhail. Only this time he’d make sure his enemy stayed buried.