Serenna’s heart lurched. Lykor—their greatest asset—was hindered by an empty Well. Her eyes darted to the magister and Mara, unsure if they would have the strength to move the entire population. Regardless, it wasn’t likely either would fight as viciously as Lykor.
“Aesar could have restored our Well last night,” Lykor snarled, jabbing his armored finger into Kal’s chest. “Butno, he was too busy basking in his little family reunion and wasting time with you.”
Kal knocked Lykor’s claw aside, his voice taut with fury. “Don’t youdarepin this on Aesar.” He flung an arm toward the window. “Your folly brought the elves to our doorstep.”
Lykor sneered, opening his mouth with a retort, but Mara cut him off. “Enough, you two.” With a swift motion, she extracted Essence from her chest, shimmering light pooling in her palm. Thalaesyn mirrored the gesture, the pair extending the glowing orbs to Lykor.
“I’ll need more than that,” he muttered, snatching the magic. He absorbed the power, glowing veins carving through his torso in fiery lines.
“It’s enough to get you to nightfall,” Mara said curtly before clutching Thalaesyn’s hand. “We’ll prepare the citizens.”
As they disappeared, Serenna’s gaze swept back to the frosty expanse. More portals had spiraled open, now disgorging countless waves of humans that swarmed like locusts and blotted out the snow. Next to the rifts, she spotted flashesof white leathers beneath flapping cloaks, the disciplined formation turning her blood cold.
“This…this is Centarya, not Kyansari,” she said, scanning for the capital’s plated armor but finding none. Fenn’s claw settled on her back, a silent offer of strength as her stomach soured. “Where is the capital?” Serenna glanced at Lykor, though she was unsure why she sought answers from him.
But Lykor’s mind was elsewhere—lost in thought or perhaps conferring with Aesar. He stared down the mountain, shaking his head as he uttered a string of curses.
Kal blinked rapidly, clearing the haze of a telepathic message. “I’ve relayed orders to our officers.” Stepping closer to Lykor, he placed a hand on his arm. “Lykor,” he said softly, words heavy with the weight of what was to come.
“I know,” Lykor growled, his acceptance bitter as he shoved Kal off. “I’ll keep portals open for as long as I can, but if the residential district falls, I can’t wait for you—or the warriors—to rendezvous.”
Serenna stiffened when Lykor’s attention unexpectedly landed on her. “Summon your prince back here.” His shoulders twitched as he turned to leave. “We’ll need him if we’re to survive this.” Then he vanished into shadows, warping out of the war room.
Serenna exhaled shakily, reaching through the bond. She found Vesryn far to the east and hauled on the silver cord between them, hoping he’d feel her urgency despite the distance.
“I’ll grab my armor,” Fenn said, clasping his father’s forearm in a firm farewell. “Then I’ll take the tunnels on the north side—they’ll likely breach that direction first. Unless they start portaling directly in.”
With a nod, Kal hurried out of the chamber. Fenn turned toward her, his mouth parting.
“I’m coming with you,” Serenna insisted before he could suggest otherwise.
Chewing on his lip ring, Fenn hesitated, worry and pride warring in his eyes. At last, he inclined his head, jewelry clinking softly as he curled his fingers around hers—a vow to fight at her side, not in her place.
“Together, then,” he murmured before warping them to the lower levels.
Only minutes ticked by as Serenna and Fenn stopped by Kal’s household armory to don their spiked wraith leathers—wraithling armor in her case. Eyes glowing like embers in the dark, Fenn then transported them to the stronghold’s northern entrance tunnel.
“She-elf, if it comes to fighting…” Fenn trailed off, fidgeting with his new chain mail gloves. They clung tightly to his claws, each talon plated with gold.
Serenna’s steps slowed as they entered the tunnel, but she shackled the creeping tide of doubt. “I know what we have to do,” she assured him, words steadier than the frantic beat of her heart. Yet those from Centarya had no idea what they were truly fighting for, and the humans ensnared in the conflict were the least guilty of all. “Even if they’re innocent, blindly following gilded lies.”
“They won’t be the first—or the last—blameless to bleed,” Fenn replied solemnly. Hefting the bandolier slung over his shoulder, he scanned the encroaching darkness, light from flickering torches stretching their shadows across the stone. “We need to reach the other side—where the collapsing mechanisms are located.”
Serenna nodded, forcing her breaths to steady. The northern tunnel lay steeped in an unnerving silence, brimming with the charged stillness before a lightning strike, lifting the hairs on her arms.
Fenn had dispatched the rest of his squadron to the next entrance, leaving just the two of them to seal this one. Their Essence was a slight advantage—or perhaps a beacon that would draw unwanted attention.
Kal’s telepathic messages to Fenn relayed grim news—Centarya had unleashed the reavers first. A few hundred swarmed the fortress with the human army marching on their heels.
“We should try to conserve our magics if we can,” Fenn cautioned, determination tightening the angles of his jaw. Dying evening light bled around a bend to the opening outside, two hundred paces ahead. “Lykor might need more power to hold the portals open.”
Worry swelled behind Serenna’s ribs. This battle wasn’t one they could win through bloodshed. Their victory hinged on the moments they could steal—precious slivers of time for the wraith to flee. Without Lykor able to fight, Vesryn’s strength would be crucial to holding the line. Still sensing him across the realms, she reached down the bond, tugging at the prince with increasingly desperate insistence.
Taking Fenn’s caution to heart, Serenna reached for her earthen power, unspooling flames from the torches anchored to the walls. Threads of fire spiraled around her as she wove them into small globes, the burning spheres orbiting them as they walked.
A chorus of snarls suddenly echoed down the tunnel.
Serenna’s chest seized, imprisoning the breath in her lungs. A horde of reavers charged into view at full speed, the thunder of their feet shaking the ground.
