Jassyn’s hesitation shattered, pulse rapidly firing into a thundering roar. He didn’t have time to second-guess—he knew what had to be done.
The corridor stretched impossibly long, teeming with skirmishes he couldn’t afford—and wasn’t equipped—to join. Each clash of steel and surge of magic felt like it widened the chasm between him and the general.
His gaze snapped to Vesryn. He needed a portal. Now.
Jassyn reached through their bond, sinking into Vesryn’s side of their Well. The prince’s focus blazed like a beacon, his magic a maelstrom barely contained.
Jassyn plunged into the depths of Vesryn’s power, sparking the prince’s portaling talent. He fumbled with the unfamiliar ability as he tried to ignite the skill. His control wouldn’t be perfect—the prince had only shown him the basics—but it had to be enough.
With a violent twist of Essence, Jassyn ripped open the space before him. The air wavered, twisting into a void, its other end unfurling behind Elashor, where Zaeryn had fallen. Tightening his grip on his knife, he took a steadying breath and stepped through the veil.
Jassyn dropped beside the flight captain, his shield flaring to encircle her. Blood gushed from her abdomen, darkening the dirt. Each of her breaths was a shallow hiss, teeth locked in a grimace as her trembling fingers clutched at the gaping wound.
Around them, blades clashed, dracovae screeched, and Essence crackled through the air, tearing the barn apart.
Zaeryn’s eyes fluttered, voice a rasp, silver hair stained with blood. “Save your—”
But Jassyn tuned out whatever selfless plea she was wasting her breath on. The rangers couldn’t afford to lose her and he refused to let Elashor claim another life.
He spared a glance at the general and the surrounding soldiers. A force of destruction that rivaled the prince, Elashor was effortlessly cutting down the remaining rangers confrontinghim. Jassyn had only moments before that wrath turned toward him.
Ruby light poured from his palms as he swept a desperate blanket of mending over Zaeryn’s middle, driving the lattice of magic against her ravaged flesh. Precision didn’t matter—only surviving the frenzy of battle.
Without pausing to think, Jassyn cast a wave of telepathy toward her, dulling the bite of her pain. The idea had kindled from Fenn’s venom—he suspected Essence could distort the mind in a similar way.
A sudden blast of force tore through a stall door, sending a hailstorm of splinters crashing against his shield. But Jassyn didn’t flinch, his focus riveted on threading the delicate, dangerous magic.
Zaeryn’s breath caught, a startled sound slipping free as his coercion locked into place. Her grey eyes flew to his, glassy with confusion and shock.
“Can you crawl through the portal back to the prince?” Jassyn asked, setting a hand on her shoulder. A dracovae thundered past, its talons pounding the ground, the vibrations jarring his teeth. “I’ve only patched your wounds. We need to get you to Thalaesyn.” He hesitated, but Zaeryn deserved the truth. “I’ve also blocked the pain temporarily—I can’t say how long the magic will hold.”
The flight captain’s gaze lingered on her fallen warriors, regret creasing her brows. With a shaky nod and a hoarse whisper of thanks, she grabbed her glaives. Jassyn slipped his arm through hers, helping her through the rift.
Once Zaeryn disappeared, Jassyn pushed to his feet and dissolved the portal. His focus narrowed on Elashor.
It was past time for the general to answer for his crimes—against Serenna, against him, against countless others whose lives he’d helped destroy. Images of Lykor in the prison searedthrough Jassyn’s thoughts. Elashor lurking in the shadows. Watching. Learning. Reveling in the king’s torment.
The last time he’d burrowed into the general’s head, he’d glimpsed fragments of the king’s plans—priceless knowledge.
Jassyn’s determination crystallized, sharpening to a lethal point. Elashor wasn’t just the enemy—he was the key to answers they couldn’t afford to lose. Jassyn would tear through his defenses, butcher his mind, drag every shadowed secret into the light.
With his intent honed to a deadly spear, Jassyn’s hands flew out, hurling every ounce of his telepathic strength at the general.
But his mind slammed into a wall, a fortress of stone. Elashor’s glacial eyes snapped to his, the icy glare chilling him to the bone.
Jassyn gritted his teeth as he battered against Elashor’s impenetrable mental barricade. This wasn’t going to be as simple as slipping past Lykor’s shattered defenses.
The general sneered as he punched out his fist, a slash of shadows pulverizing the final ranger in front of him. Blood dripped from his blade as he stalked forward, bones and entrails slapping to the ground around him.
Fear mauled Jassyn’s chest, but he shoved it away and reinforced his shield. His grip tightened around his dagger, the hilt slick with sweat as he frantically searched for a crack in Elashor’s ironclad defenses.
He couldn’t match the general’s strength. Not without the power of the earth.
The stables offered few elements to draw on—just faint wisps of surrounding air, a far cry from the torrent of lightning he’d wielded when he’d faced Elashor at Centarya.
Wait.
Jassyn’s attention darted to the threads of wind, then back to Elashor, a predator closing in.
