Fable yanks me upright and snarls, “MOVE!”
She drags me away as the beast whips around, her magic freezing it in place, but from the grit of her teeth and the strained grunt she gives I know it won’t hold. The beast is too strong. Two versions of us twinkle to life, the air warping like a mirage around us. I look up—Draven’s across the chamber, creating two false versions of us, sending them running the other direction. It pulls the drake’s attention just as Fable’s magic gives out, her card sparking and sputtering to the ground.
The drake charges after the trick and Fable scoops up her card and zenith. Mine’s in the pack over my shoulder and I’m still holding the wand, so I shove it through the deep V-neck of my tunic, tucking it between layers of cloth at my ribs so it won’t get lost or touch skin. We run, making for the opposite direction. Fable chances a glance over her shoulder, blond hair flashing in the sunlight, eyes wide, and I know from the vibrations at our feet that the drake has altered course.
“Get down!” Malik hollers as we race past a small hollow of downed, rotten trees. Fable shoves me into one, but there’s not room for two. My panic peaks as she leaves me, and through a hole in the trunk I watch her run a few feet more, desperate for cover. Malik protects her with a makeshift shield of oak,a sword in his hand, the illusions of his Devil Arcana making them disappear. Acid sprays from above us. An unlucky elf screams as he gets a face full.
Draven? Where is Draven? I can’t find him through the chaos.
I need a weapon.
The drake blows a cancerous plume across the space, and like the smoke from a fire, a bog rises. Trapped in this warped tree there’s nowhere for me to go. I pull my hood up over my head, rolling my back toward the small opening in the tree, breathing into the crook of my arm to try to filter out the spreading toxins. The drake stalks past, shaking the ground, and the tree’s bark flakes into my hair.
There’s a huge boom, and I turn just as the drake crashes to the ground, moss and dust billowing. Someone must’ve attacked it.
Draven runs from it, sprinting my way, and I squint through the haze as he nearly collides into me, both hands grasping my face. “Are you okay?” he asks, and I nod, blinking against the burn. “Follow me!”
He pulls me out and we run—the ground vibrating beneath us, the beast regaining its strength, stumbling to its feet.
We put in some distance between us and the drake, away from the toxic fumes, but we’re farther from the exit now. The drake blocks the only way out. Others are screaming, dying, some of Commander Soto’s soldiers are fighting it with magic, others with spears and swords, yet beyond them I see elves fleeing, leaving us behind. I can’t see Fable, Malik, or Scorpius …
Draven holds my shoulders, forcing me to look at him. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m okay.” My exposed skin says otherwise. The back of my neck burns, some of my right arm is bright red, but at least nothing is bleeding. He notices, sliding me a stern look, andsummons the Empress, beginning to heal me, his hands trembling as he takes in the damage.
“Summon the Star, you need a weapon.”
“Yeah, no shit, but it’s not that easy.” I shake my head. Even Ember hasn’t been able to help me learn her Arcana, the gift of light, of armorers and bladesmiths.
He holds both sides of my face, hands in my hair as his brow rests against mine, the two of us taking shaky breaths together. “It just needs hope.”
But that’s something I don’t have to give.
“Draven! Rune!” It’s Fable and the others at the edge of the cavern; they’re trying to get us to reach them as Soto and his men fire Arcana at the drake to distract it.
Draven nods at them, and then turns to me. “We skirt the edge. There’s no winning here. We take whatever zenith we can and flee.”
“What about the rest?” I ask.
“I’ll blow the place to high hell before we leave.”
“What were you going to say back there? Before?”
“You’re askingnow?”
“We’re probably about to die, so call me curious,” I snark, and he huffs an incredulous sigh as he finishes healing the worst of my burns. He scans the cavern, but the drake is still distracted.
“That I will always be yours. Until the stars burn out. Hatefully and adoringly, my wicked heart is yours alone.” He gives an incredulous sigh. “If you want it.”
“Why, Draven Vos …” I look into his eyes. Chaos reigns in the background. “You’re so very dramatic.”
“You are impossible, Rune Ryker.” He scoffs, but I yank him down to meet my lips. The moment burns between us, brief, but scalding, blinding in the darkness.
A nearby roar shakes us from it.
“Run,” he whispers.
I rush around a pile of black crystal and sprint toward the others, Draven right behind me, the sack of zenith I’ve managed to harvest jangling off my hip. The ground beneath us shifts sharply, and we skid down, feet crunching over something that squelches under my feet. It’s the remnants of eggs larger than I am, littering this area. Draven urges me onward, and I don’t stop to gawk at the smoking sacks, throwing myself up a wall of bones and tumbling down the other side of it.
