Fenn yanked his short bow over his shoulder, drawing a barbed arrow from the quiver at his side. Earlier, he’d grumbled about leaving his preferred crossbow behind—too slow to reload in the chaos of battle.
“Sounds like fifty, perhaps more,” he warned as the snarls multiplied, the reavers flooding into the tunnel. “We need to end them fast—before the humans follow. We won’t outlast the numbers the mortals will throw at us.”
Images invaded Serenna’s mind as every breath became a struggle. She was back at Centarya, fighting for her life. The fear. The screams. Fangs nearly tearing into her throat.
Except… Her eyes snapped back into focus on the reavers. They should have been warping—but they weren’t. They didn’t even carry weapons.
“Fenn,” Serenna whispered, her voice sounding hollow as she stared at their frenzied charge. At the way they jostled each other to scramble ahead, guttural snarls ripping through the air instead of words. “I think they’re compelled.”
“Mind magics?” Fenn asked skeptically, glancing between her and the wraith as he nocked an arrow. He shook his head, either in denial or disbelief, but the flash in his eyes revealed his resolve. “It makes no difference. Their lives were forfeit the moment they turned on Lykor.”
Serenna forced a steady breath through her nose. This was no different than facing the wraith Vesryn had released on her in the dungeons. Though her instincts screamed for her to call on rending, she forced herself to focus on her whirling globes of fire. She agreed with Fenn—expelling so much Essence at the start felt like a reckless gamble.
Fenn released the arrow, the quarrel smacking into the face of the foremost reaver with a sickening thud.
Serenna shuttered her mind against the brewing fight. She twisted the fire into long coils of flaming rope, locking her gaze on the wraith dashing toward them.
Fenn loosened another arrow, the barbed tip embedding itself in a reaver’s chest. It shrieked but kept running, limbs flailing before an arrow in the eye sent it crashing to the ground, trampled by those behind it.
The snarls grew louder, the horde devouring the distance, only a hundred paces away now.
The limits of her shaman power pressed against her. She could harness the elements at hand, but couldn’t conjure them from nothing—each strike would consume some of the flames.
Serenna gripped her determination with all the strength she could muster and shoved that thought aside. The reavers were closing in too fast to dwell on it.
Hurling her hands forward, Serenna attacked with her fiery whips, serpents striking prey. The flames sought out vulnerable flesh, slithering into mouths and noses, scorching eyes, incinerating brains, and charring hearts.
Some fell, but the reavers still surged forward, the tunnel funneling them into a writhing mass. Claws raked the stone walls as they clambered over their fallen, eyes burning with mindless fury.
Seventy paces. Not enough time to second-guess, barely enough to survive.
A wraith warped forward in a blur, talons outstretched toward Serenna. Shrieking, she staggered back, the stench of scorched flesh singeing the air as she sliced her fiery whip across its throat. The reaver screeched and fell, convulsing as embers engulfed its body.
“Get behind me!” Fenn barked, the authority in his voice leaving no room for argument. Yet beneath that trained precision, Serenna sensed a faint trickle of worry. He fired hisbow with ruthless efficiency, each shot landing true. But for every reaver slain, two more lurched forward.
Moving behind his shoulder, Serenna’s heart pounded alongside the snarls echoing through the tunnel. Sweat slicked her palms as she lashed her whips at the front line, the flames noticeably smaller now.
Thirty paces.
With gnashing fangs and feral hunger, the reavers would overrun them any second.
“Now might be the time to use your magics!” Fenn shouted.
Abandoning her fire in a plume of smoke, Serenna unleashed a burst of violet light, slamming a shield across the width of the tunnel. An arm’s length away, the wraith crashed into the barrier, stumbling as they fell backward. Snarling to reach them, they began clawing at the ward—clawing at each other—a frenzied mass of fangs and talons.
Fenn panted heavily, sweat streaking his face as he lowered his bow. “We still need to find a way to reach the entrance.”
Serenna nodded, tying the ward off, knowing it wouldn’t hold long under the relentless assault.
A harsh, rhythmic clicking sliced through the air and Fenn started swearing. Serenna’s head snapped around, stomach plummeting as a pod of scorpions burst around the corner, blocking the way they’d come. Dozens of serrated legs skittered forward, spiked tails arching high.
She didn’t think. Shadows erupted from her fingertips, a violent blast shredding the closest beasts. A chorus of hisses cut short as their armored carapaces shattered. The sharp pops of bursting shells ricocheted off the stone, glowing ichor spraying in arcs across the walls.
“Above you—” Fenn’s shout came too late as he raised his bow.
A crushing blow struck Serenna’s skull, driving her to the ground. Pain exploded behind her eyes as the back of her head smacked against the unforgiving stone.
Her shriek matched the scorpion’s as pincers snapped inches from her face, serrated ends ripping through her hair. The creature’s segmented body pinned her, scraping against her leathers, its barbed tail striking.
