Tumbling to its feet, the red blur tossed the utukku back to the ground with a roar of rage.

“GET THE HELL AWAY FROM HER.”

The utukku spun free of his grasp, ducking beneath a furious haymaker that whistled mere inches above its head. Its pale, spindly arms shot forward with all its unnatural strength and its fingernails lengthened into several inches long black claws. With an ear-shattering scream, it punched its claws straight into the throat of its assailant.

They broke against his skin.

For a fraction of a second, it hesitated in surprise. It was a fatal mistake. Seizing the opportunity, S̆arrābi grabbed hold of the utukku's shoulders and pulled. The undead priestess fought back, struggling fiercely in his grip, but it couldn't escape in time before, in a surprisingly goreless shower of dust and bone, the utukku’s body simply disintegrated.

Jasper’s jaw dropped. He had never seen his uncle in a fight. Sure, he had reckoned the Djinn was a reasonably powerful warrior, but S̆arrābī was - or at least he had assumed he was - a mage. But if he could casually pull the utukku apart like that, his strength was on a whole another level. Maybe he isn’t a mage.

His speculation was crushed a moment later as another utukku broke free of the forest. Moving so fast that it appeared as nothing more than a pale blur in the moonlight, it latched onto his uncle’s back, burying its face in the man’s neck. S̆arrābī’s arm burst into flames as he grabbed hold of the creature. Jasper wasn’t sure what spell his uncle used, but a moment later the demon ghost exploded in a burst of fire and ash. He noticed though, glinting faintly in Selene’s light, a row of teeth sticking out of the Djinn’s neck. He’s powerful, but not invulnerable.

“Jasper!” His attention was drawn away from his uncle as rough hands closed around him, dragging him and his still-unconscious aunt back toward the docks, away from the monsters. And away from his uncle who, now enshrouded fully in flames, was fighting furiously against an ever-growing number of utukkū.

Somehow lurching to his feet, Jasper brushed away the helping hands as he turned to face the newcomers. It was Ihra and S̆anukkat, accompanied by a handful of the ship's crew.

Grabbing Ihra’s hand, he jerked his head backward, miming drinking a potion. His charred lips couldn't form the words, but by now she knew the routine. Uncorking a bottle, she let the sweet liquid pour all over his face until enough of the potion trickled down his throat to do the trick. A wave of relief washed over him as the healing took effect but, as always, it came at a cost. As his litany of broken bones clicked back into place, the sweet relief of healing was followed by an almost crippling wave of weakness.

Ihra caught him as he swayed on his feet, and he steadied himself against her shoulder. After a few deep breaths, he managed to force himself upright and take stock of the situation. The servants clutched a motley variety of weapons in their hands, but their eyes were wide with terror as they watched battle raging beyond, their bodies frozen like deer in headlights. They'll be worthless in battle, he realized. “Take her back to the boat,” he yelled, trying to get their attention. They were slow to respond, their eyes glues to the unfolding carnage. A mound of bodies surrounded his uncle, but the number of utukku had not thinned in the least. “Now!” He screamed, his throat raw and raspy, waving his arms in front of their face until they finally snapped out of their fugue, and leapt to help his aunt.

Turning his back on them, he stumbled toward his uncle, his legs still weak and woozy from the potion. Ihra ran to follow him. So, too, did S̆anukkat. He watched as she struggled to form a spell, a small icicle that promptly slipped from her grasp and shattered on the beach. Damn, she's going to get herself killed trying to help.

“Go help your mother,” he ordered, abruptly.

His cousin hesitated. "The crew can help her," she started to protest, but Jasper had no time to coddle her.

"You're not going to help him by dying," he snapped. "Go, help her, get to safety." A moment of shame flashed through her eyes, but she didn't fight him. Spinning on her heels, the Djinn took off after with the crew who, cradling her mother’s unconscious body between them, were racing toward a small rowboat tied to the end of the dock.

Not waiting around to watch her, he half-ran, half-stumbled across the beach. Sheer exhaustion infused every inch of his body, but he focused on keeping one foot moving in front of the other. Despite his initial worries, S̆arrābī seemed to be holding his own against the tide of utukku that surrounded him. Just need to drag away from the fight, and we can get the hell off this island, Jasper realized, brightening at the thought. But he had spoken too soon.

As he ran toward his uncle, another monster emerged from the shelter of the twisted cypresses. It was a utukku, or at least it resembled the others that swarmed around his uncle, but this one was noticeably different. Towering a full head above the rest, the new utukku’s neck was not grotesquely distorted like the others.

The creature paused at the top of the short bluff overlooking the rocky beach, and a bright light split the darkness as a delicate, crystal diadem on her forehead began to glow. The two of them flinched back, physically displaced as the creature screamed, and for a second, the melee on the beach paused as both his uncle and the other utukkū turned to look at her. Then the high priestess blurred forward, her arm stretched out before her in the same attack the first utukku had tried against S̆arrābī. But her nails didn’t break.

With a strangled cry, the Djinn sunk to his knees as she dug her claws into his flesh. S̆arrābī hadn’t given up, though; his hands desperately grabbed her arms, fighting to pull them free as she reached to snap his spine. His bellows of rage were reduced to a wet gurgle, but slowly, painstakingly, he forced her hands back an inch at a time.

But Jasper wasn’t watching any longer. Slapping a hand on Ihra’s back, he pushed his essence into her, casting Spectral Wings on her a split second before his own pair of pinions blossomed from his back, and shot across the beach toward his uncle.

The spectral wings were fast, but he was still afraid he wasn’t going to get there in time. His uncle might be winning the test of strength for the moment, but he was losing blood fast. How long could he hold on? Jasper’s hands twisted in the air as he cast a second spell. Seraph’s Burst.

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He had never tried to cast the spell while flying before, but it worked as he had hoped. Accelerating him to new heights of speed, Jasper bridged the gap between him and his uncle in a blur. His bones groaned as the sharp, metallic wings replaced the spectral ones, throwing him into a tight spin. “Duck,” he managed to roar out, hoping his uncle heard him in time. Then he collided with the priestess.

The collision was like that of a runaway truck smashing into a solid concrete barrier. Despite the enormous speed he was going, the utukku barely budged when he rocketed into her. She took the blow like a champ, while Jasper received the brunt of the impact. His wings, on the other hand, were another matter. Spinning like a rotary saw blade, the razor-sharp feathers shredded her skin. Screeching in pain, the being released her grip on his uncle, taking a half-step back.

Propelled by the spell, Jasper spun past her landing in a sprawl at the feet of the lesser utukkū. Crap. But his uncle, despite the waterfall of blood gushing from his throat, had seized the moment of opportunity presented to him. Lurching to his feet, a prodigious ball of fire blossomed at his fingers, exploding into a miniature shockwave that rippled through the crowd. Screeches filled the night as many of the priestesses caught fire, but the high priestess remained untouched. Surging forward, she tried to snatch S̆arrābī by the throat again. This time, he managed to duck her strike, delivering a powerful blow of his own to her ribs.

Jasper had other concerns. The utukkū who weren't on fire had promptly piled on top of him, pinning down his arms in an attempt to prevent him from casting a spell. It was a tactic that would have worked on many mages but, fortunately, Jasper had a counter. Less fortunately, that counter didn't come with the benefit of a fire-proof mouth. Damn it - twice in one night! I have *got* to get a skill for this. But there was no hesitation as he loosed the spell - pain was better than death, after all.

The utukkū released him, beating at their burning flesh, as Jasper jerked his head violently back and forth, billowing flames pouring out of it.

The moment his hands were free, Jasper cast a different spell, lashing out with Scourge of Despair. New shrieks filled the air as his own summoned specters emerged. There. Evened the odds a bit. Stumbling to his feet, he looked for his uncle as he tried to cast his ace in the hole. Hand of Judgment. The spell failed. Damn it. I wasted it on the dorēsah.

Two new utukku raced out of the darkness toward him, but they fell to the ground before they could even get close, pierced by a dozen arrows. Ignoring them, Jasper whipped his head around, looking for his uncle. I've got to help him before he bleeds out.

His uncle proved easy to find. The darkness was split again as the high priestess’ diadem begin to glow, drawing his attention like a lighthouse on a stormy night. She and S̆arrābī were locked in a fierce struggle, the two fighting for dominance, but Jasper could tell his uncle was beginning to fail. His arms shook beneath her pressure, and his legs were slowly sliding across the pebbled beach. He’s lost too much blood.

The light from the priestess grew and grew, diffusing throughout her entire body. It was as if a star from the heavens themselves had descended to stand upon their beach. His eyes burned as he gazed upon her, but Jasper forced himself forward, racing toward his uncle. She’s going to kill him.

Someone else got there first.

In the chaos of battle, he had all but forgotten about Ihra. Able to escape the melee of the battle thanks to his spectral wings, she had fluttered above the conflict, sending volley after volley of arrows into the crowd. So when the priestess began to glow, Ihra saw it first.

She landed beside S̆arrābī a second before Jasper could reach him. She hesitated only a moment before she made her decision, sacrificing her graven rune for the Aegis of Ayyālu.

The priestess was pushed across as a golden shield exploded outward from Ihra, wrapping its protective barrier around her, the Djinn, and Jasper, but the utukku's focus never wavered. Regaining her footing, she shone like a star as she released the storm of essence.

An inferno roared around them, wave after wave of fire beating against the golden shield. At any second, he expected the fire to dissipate, for the shield to give out, but both held firm. I hope the others got out of range of the blast.

“Here, help me,” Ihra called. His uncle, no longer locked in battle, had slumped on the beach. Blood was still gushing out of his throat. Far too much of it.

Clamping his hands tight around the Djinn’s throat, Jasper did his best to hold the severed flaps of skin together as Ihra tried to pour a potion down it, but most of the liquid simply leaked out of his ruined throat onto Jasper’s fingers. All the while, the fires continued to rage around them. Just what kind of spell was that?

It took a second potion, and then a third, before enough of the liquid must have made it down his throat that the skin begin to stitch itself back together. Slowly. I hope he’s okay. Gently setting his uncle down, he turned to look at the shield. “How long do we have?”

“Five minutes.”

Jasper started to say, “Surely that will be long enough,” but he bit his tongue. Now was no time to jinx things. “Guess you finally got one of those runes,” he added, after a moment's reflection.

Ihra winked. “Maybe I just finally learned magic.”

Too tired to quip back, he just raised an eyebrow at her.

"Or the rune thing," she admitted.

As fast as it had come, the inferno blinked out, revealing a scene of devastation. Unable to see anything but the ball of fire, Jasper had dramatically underestimated the magnitude of the utukku's explosion. Most of the trees along the beach had evaporated in the blast, while a swathe of devastation stretched at least a hundred feet into the forest, where the cypresses that had survived smoldered with sickly, green flames.

Of the lesser utukkū, there was no sign. Jasper was unsure if the undead specters had been caught in the blast or if they had fled but, at the very least, they weren’t waiting for them.

The priestess on the other hand was crouched on all fours before Ihra's shield. She looked a bit the worse for the wear; her formerly spotless linen tunic was black as soot and steam rose from her skin, but she was still very much alive. Well, undead.

Her head raised slowly up to look at them and, for the first time, he got a real look at her eyes. They glowed a brilliant emerald that Jasper, if it wasn’t for the fact that the priestess was doing her level best to murder them, would have described as achingly beautiful. As it was, they only filled him with a bone-chilling fear.

“How much longer before the shield runs out?”

Ihra shrugged. “It doesn’t come with a timer. Another minute or two?” she guessed.

He glanced over at her. The spectral wings still sprouted from her back, but for how much longer, he didn’t know. They’re on a ten-minute timer, but I can’t recast the spell till it’s ended. “As soon as the shield comes down, take my uncle and fly toward the boat. I’ll try to hold her off till you get free, and then follow.”

She made a face, clearly not happy with his plan, but nodded her head. “Don’t be a hero,” she warned.

He snorted. “Don’t worry; I’m not one. But if the spell runs out, I can recast my wings; you can’t. Just get to safety.”