With a snarl, Lykor shoved past the sluggish weight overtaking him. Shadows exploded from his palm, coalescing into a spear of rending, striking the nearest winged scourge.
The creature disintegrated mid-flight in a spray of scales, blood, and flesh.
But more followed. So many more.
Jassyn sagged in Lykor’s grip, his legs buckling beneath him. Blood seeped from his nose and his eyelids fluttered. His mind was elsewhere—still trapped in that fucking bird.
Lykor tried to haul him closer, but the venom was stronger, sinking its fangs into his stuttering heart. His grip went slack. Jassyn slipped from his fingers, crumpling to the ground.
The world lurched and Lykor staggered before he caught himself, swaying. Time splintered into jagged pieces. His lungs burned as every breath shallowed.
Another thud. Another sting at the back of his arm before the pain dissolved into nothing, swallowed by the creeping numbness overtaking his limbs.
Sand shifted beneath his boots, as if the earth itself was dragging him under. He had to fight—had to hold on—but his glaives were gone, dropped someplace he couldn’t remember.
Jassyn.
How did he get so far? A dozen paces away, he lay sprawled, staring blankly at the sky. Three darts had pierced his neck, blood from his nose trickling across his cheeks.
A jolt rent through Lykor’s ribs, his guilty heart hammering against its cage. This was his fault. If he hadn’t asked Jassyn to use that stars-cursed coercion, he wouldn’t be trapped in his own mind.
The portal. He had to get Jassyn through the portal.
Blinking hard, Lykor searched for the rift, but there was nothing. A hollow absence where escape should have been waiting.
He reached toward Aesar for help but couldn’t find him. Couldn’t sense anything through the creeping fog smothering his thoughts.
Essence. He needed Essence. He grasped for it, but his Well was a dying ember at the fringe of his mind. Flickering. Sputtering. Failing.
His knees struck the sand, the force barely registering. As his vision spotted, he caught a glimpse of Vesryn still swinging his weapons through empty space.
Surrounding him, the winged creatures loomed just beyond his reach. Watching. Waiting. Biding their time for his fall.
One of the beasts warped like a wraith, appearing beside Jassyn. Too close. Wings tucked in tight, it crouched in the sand, talons gleaming as it reached for him.
Jassyn lay there, helpless. And that thing—
A strangled snarl tore from Lykor’s throat. Rage. Desperation. He didn’t know which.
Legs useless, he tried to warp, but he only crashed forward. His face slammed into the ground, muscles petrifying into stone. Fury erupted in his veins, a wildfire raging against the venom turning his body into a prison.
Lykor clawed at the sand, carving trenches in his struggle. He had to reach Jassyn. Arms trembling, he summoned all of his strength to drag himself forward.
It wasn’t enough.
He gritted his teeth, pushing harder, feeling the edges of reality splinter.
A sharp sting pierced him again. And then another. Darts thudded into the back of his neck, his arms.
His vision tunneled, shrinking to a single point—Jassyn’s bloodied face.
He reached for him.
He had to—
A shadow unfolded in front of him.
The staff came from nowhere. It struck Lykor across the head, the impact so brutal his vision shattered, as though his skull had split wide open.
