Silence met his words, a silence thick with understanding, with purpose. Then, one by one, the warriors bowed their heads—not in submission, but in solemn acknowledgment.
Corwin turned away. The time for words was done.
He pressed his palm to the door. “Let’s go.”
They lined up in front of the temple. Two hundred fae to hold the temple. Two hundred fae to give their loved ones enough time to flee.
Somewhere far away in the darkness, the sea crashed against the jagged cliffs. The wind whipped over them, carrying the scent of salt and blood. The air felt charged, a gathering storm waiting to break. There was no retreat. They would either hold this ground or die on it.
Corwin drew in a slow breath.Dara’elcoiled tighter around him, rippling with anticipation as the first figures crossed the ridge. TheNew Dominion’s battle mages didn’t bother with stealth as they ground to a halt, their grim faces illuminated by the sickly glow of their enchanted weapons, every one powered with aether that had been ripped from its proper place and bound to their will.
At their center, a black-armored Commander wearing the Arcanum’s Eye emblazoned on his breastplate stood motionless. Corwin could feel his gaze on him, caught by the shadows that churned around him, marking him as a target. The Commander cocked his head, hefting a staff so long it could only have been carved from an entire fae femur.
Corwin could feel the trapped aether inside it screaming, even across the battlefield. His heart clenched, and he whispered a silent prayer to the absent Goddess for the poor soul whose body had become a weapon for their oppressors.
That’s why the New Dominion was here, instead of hunting the last free fae across Eluneth. Fae bone was a powerful amplifier—and the crypt beneath the temple was a prize the humans could not resist.
What monstrosities could they craft from the remains of generations of fae rulers?
There will be no monstrosities.The voices—usually scattered, hissing and half-mad—coalesced. And for the first time in what felt like years,dara’elspoke not as many, but as one.
Release us. We will kill the bone-bearer first.
“Not yet,” Corwin said aloud, ignoring the way Elric glanced at him—tracking the way the shadows hissed and writhed with barely contained frustration.
They might be lucid now, butdara’elhadn’t cared about strategy since Lysa died. They didn’t obey him, not anymore. He wasn’t even sure they remembered who he was or what they stood for. All they wanted was blood and vengeance—and Corwin wasn’t sure he was any different.
Well—tonight, they would both gorge on it.
The commander raised the staff, and the first wave surged forward—a wall of iron and death.
Corwin stepped forward to meet it alone, lifting his hands as he called on the power the Goddess had granted him to protect her people.
Anddara’elanswered.
Shadows poured from him, coiling outward like black smoke made solid. They struck, felling the first humans instantly. One,dara’eldragged screaming into the shadows, swallowing him whole before his comrades could even react. Another collapsed, choking on pure darkness as his corrupted blade fell uselessly to the ground. A third raised his staff—butdara’elwas faster. Its shadows coiled around the man’s wrist, twisting?—
His scream was lost in the roar as fae forces surged past them, meeting the New Dominion soldiers in a clash of steel and iron. Corwin sucked in a deep breath, nearly choking on the stench of burning aether and scorched bone. It clung to the back of his throat, an abomination of everything they stood for.
Corwin lifted his sword. For the first time in years, he did not feel helpless.Dara’elmet his command eagerly, rising to stand alongside him instead of against him.
Fae magic belonged to the fae. And tonight, the humans would remember why.
Corwin slashed through the ranks of the humans, shadows surging from him in jagged spears and clawed tendrils, cutting through steel and flesh with the fury of a storm. They churned and consumed, swallowing men whole, wrapping around throats and wrists, dragging them screaming into the abyss.
But for every New Dominion soldier that fell, another stepped over his corpse, pushing forward with relentless, merciless precision.
There were too many of them.
The fae fought viciously, holding the line with blades slicked in human blood and magic burning through the air in wild, desperate arcs. But still, they came.
Arrows whistled through the air, fae warriors crying out as iron tips punched through leather armor with deadly precision. Some fell instantly, never rising. Others stumbled, clutching at the black shafts buried deep in their flesh, gasping against the poison lacing the metal.
Corwin’s shadows lashed out, seeking the archers, but the battle mages were waiting for him.
Their stolen magic struck back, tearing into his darkness. The first blast of stolen magic slammed into the ground, scorching black tendrils into nothingness. The second ripped through Corwin’s defenses, forcing the shadows to recoil and writhe like wounded beasts.
More arrows. More flames. More destruction.
