The air behind me shifted, temperature dropping so fast my breath misted. Shaelith’s ice erupted in spears, beautiful and lethal, aimed directly at Merrick. They screamed through the air, each one capable of punching through armour, through bone, through anything that got in their way.
Merrick’s lightning answered. Bolts of white-blue electricity that turned the chamber into a strobe of violence, shattering Shaelith’s ice mid-flight. Steam exploded where fire met frost, filling the space with blinding mist.
Linc’s ocean magic rose like a living thing, a wall of water thatshouldn’t existin a landlocked chamber but did anyway, roaring toward Merrick with the force of a tidal wave. It moved with consciousness, with purpose, reaching for the Stormborn with hungry intent.
The lightning met the water and the entire fucking room lit up.
The impact threw me backward. Or would have, if Varyth’s mist hadn’t wrapped around me. It cushioned the blow, pulledme close against his chest as the world dissolved into pure chaos around us.
Cindrissian’s wind howled. A hurricane compressed into four walls, ripping at clothing and hair and anything not bolted down. It slammed into Merrick’s lightning, scattering it, redirecting it, turning the Stormborn’s own power against him.
My black fire was everywhere. Pouring from my skin in waves I couldn’t contain, didn’twantto contain. It crashed against Xyliria’s crimson clouds, and where they met, the air seemed toscream. The two magics twisted, each trying to devour the other.
Varyth’s mist exploded outward with enough force to crack the remaining walls. Silver-white and deadly, moving like it had teeth. It slammed into Ashterion’s shadows with the sound of two storms colliding, and I felt the impact reverberate through my bones.
But Ashterion’s shadows?—
They weren’t attacking back. Even as Varyth’s mist tore at them, even as my fire licked at their edges, they only defended.
And in the middle of it all, through the fire and ice and lightning and shadow, through the howling wind and crushing water and shattering crystal—Xyliria laughed.
The sound carved through everything. Sharp and delighted and so fucking wrong.
Her crimson clouds condensed, pulled inward, and thenexplodedoutward in a wave that made my fire look like a candle. They slammed into everyone, didn’t discriminate, didn’t care. The pure, devastating force sent bodies flying.
Darian’s vines withered where they touched. Fenric’s obsidian shattered. Even Varyth’s mist recoiled, hissing like something burned.
The chamber was coming apart. Stone crumbling, magic eating through walls, the very air tearing itself to shreds.
Varyth’s hand locked around my wrist.
His mist surged up around us, thick and impenetrable, and I felt reality start to fold.
Through the chaos, through the impossible tangle of magic and violence, I saw Ashterion.
He was still sitting. Perfectly, impossibly calm at what remained of the shattered table.
But his eyes?—
Those winter-night eyes were fixed on me with an expression I’d never expected.
Terror.
Pure, undiluted terror that made him look almost?—
Human.
And then the world folded completely, and he was gone.
42
The world snapped back into focus with jarring clarity. Stone beneath my feet. Cool air. The faint smell of old parchment and leather.
Varyth’s study.
I was breathing hard, my heart hammering against my ribs like it was trying to escape. Black fire flickered along my fingertips. Alive and furious and still hungry.
My hands were shaking.
