Not again.
I promised to protect her. Flashes of burning houses flooded my mind. Screams and blood staining my fingers—human, mortal blood—even redder than Branwyn’s hair.
I’d rather die than go through this again.
To the seven hells with these demons!
I turned in a blur, launching toward her—but—
Agonizing pain tore through my throat. The whip coiled around it like a noose, yanking me back mid-flight. It was made of vertebrae—how fitting! I clawed at it, wings thrashing until my joints screamed. The Hollowborn pulled harder. The whip dug deep into my flesh; blood gushed down my collar.
But far worse than the pain—
I couldn’t sense her anymore. Only six Twisted Ones wandered the deck, dazed, sniffing the air like bloodhounds.
The undyne was gone.
If Clio had her, I’d enter whatever abyssal pit she called home and tear her limb by limb with my own hands. With a snarl, I grabbed the whip and pulled hard, yanking the Hollowborn forward. He slammed into the mast and tumbled overboard. I dropped to the deck of the steamer and sliced through the remaining Twisted Ones like smoke. My breath came ragged. Black petals bloomed before my vision.
I cursed. A second wave of Hollowborn was coming.
“Daphne?” I cried, my voice breaking in my torn throat.
Rage hollowed me. I let it in. I wanted to be done with whatever the Renegade threw at me so I could search for her.
If she was still alive—
Just like that, I let myself slip into that place I avoided like the plague. The place that left dead legions and burning cities in my wake.
Whatever the Renegade had planned, I’d burn through it to find her.
A familiar glow. Like the sun filtering through ancient trees.
A voice cut through the blood-haze.
“Emrys!”
Then a touch. Familiar. Strong like the roots digging deep into the soil like plants breaking the stone. “Emrys!” he called again. Anchored me back. I howled like a wounded animal.
I didn’t want to go back to a place without her.
“She’s safe, Emrys! Your companion is safe!” The world clicked back into place and regained its contour. Edges. Color. Pain. Blood.
I was standing in carnage. Severed limbs and steaming bowels, blood puddles on the floorboards. “Camille took her to Cairo.”
My legs gave in, and I collapsed. It felt like awakening from a dream. A horrible dream.
I turned my head. “Orren?”
He grinned, his beard wild, his eyes sharp. “Still brooding and half-dead, I see.”
“How… are you here?”
“That little traitor Nibble found us. We left Brazil immediately. Camille and your human friend are at the Minaret. Come on. You’re not dying today.” He extended his hand and pulled me up.
I barked a broken laugh and pulled him into a bruising hug. “Still bathing in rivers, I can smell it on you. At least you’ve swapped the furs for a suit.”
He stepped back and gave me a once-over. “You look worse than last time.”
