Vesryn’s eyes softened as they met hers. His uncertainty began to dissolve, replaced by a purpose that straightened his shoulders.
“We should be portal jumping with Lykor and Jassyn,” he said at last, his conviction beginning to burn. “They shouldn’t be out in the Wastes alone.”
His gaze shifted to Fenn, showing the barest trace of grudging respect as he inclined his head—a reluctant inclusion of his presence.
Fenn’s grin gleamed with fangs, as though this was the outcome he’d expected all along.
CHAPTER 28
JASSYN
What had begun as a mere flurry at the fringes of the fortress had swelled into a blizzard, the wind howling mercilessly. Jassyn lost track of the portals after forty—he doubted even Vesryn could manage that many without stopping to regenerate.
But nothing could match Lykor’s unyielding pace. He stayed ahead, always just out of reach, a force of nature tearing open rift after rift.
The landscape they crossed blurred—jagged ridges, barren valleys, and frozen hills shifting with every leap through storm and void. Lykor showed no sign of relenting, even as night descended and the distance between his portals started to shrink.
The cold burrowed through Jassyn’s boots and exhaustion sank deep into his bones. His shield sputtered like a guttering flame, struggling against the wind’s stinging assault. He sensed the first stars igniting behind the cloud-darkened sky, a reminder that he needed to regenerate his depleting Well—and that they needed to return to the jungle.
Jassyn shouted Lykor’s name over the gale, the first time he’d spoken in hours, his voice sounding small.
Lykor didn’t stop. Didn’t even slow.
Squinting through the storm, Jassyn glimpsed spindly silhouettes clawing at the horizon—skeletal trees emerging from the endless white. The next portal dumped them out at the edge of a frozen forest, the blizzard’s gusts winding between the trunks.
Stripped of bark, the lifeless trees loomed, their broken limbs encased in sheets of ice. Jassyn pulled his cloak tighter, shivering as the bare branches scraped together, the spine-chilling screech needling into his skull.
But Lykor trudged on, his scowl fixed on the depths of the wilderness. His shoulders curved inward, and with that subtle slump, Jassyn glimpsed the fissures in his resilience—the confession of weariness he’d never voice.
Lykor drew to an abrupt halt, raw Essence eddying around him in a wavering stream of stars. The faint outline of a portal began to shimmer, but the glow flickered before collapsing in on itself.
He swore as Jassyn closed the distance to reach his side.
For a moment, neither spoke. Their breaths curled in the freezing air, wisps dissolving as quickly as they formed. Even with some measure of wraith blood warming his veins, Lykor’s cheeks were flushed dark, lips pressed into a hard line as though sheer willpower could deny the cold.
Jassyn swallowed, his throat raw and aching with thirst. His limbs shook, his gut hollow from how long they’d pushed themselves. He’d give anything for respite in the warm humidity of the jungle—or for a steaming bowl of that spiced soup Fenn had introduced him to, the memory of it taunting him now.
“Haven’t we traveled far enough for one day?” Jassyn rasped, burrowing his hands deep into his ice-crusted cloak. “We should go back, rest, and gather supplies before we push any further.”
Staring at the spot where his portal had unraveled, Lykor drew uneven breaths, his chest rising and falling in bursts. Jaw tightening, tension coiled in his shoulders before he sagged, exhaling a disgusted sigh. He parted his lips to speak, but the words never came.
A sudden gale ripped through the forest, its monstrous howl rattling the frozen canopy. The treetops groaned under the wind, their branches colliding in a cracking cacophony. A cascade of ice broke free, spiraling downward in a razor-edged storm.
Jassyn shoved his hands forward, pouring the last of his strength into his fraying shield. Violet light fountained from his fingertips, twining together in trembling strands.
The ice struck his barrier with sharp pings, splintering into gleaming fragments that scattered across the frozen ground. Splitting his focus, he reached for his elemental power and tried to seize the descending shards.
Before he could halt the deadly barrage, the wind slammed into him from the side, slicing through his weakened ward. Knocked off balance, Jassyn stumbled, the snow shifting beneath his feet.
In a blink, Lykor’s gauntlet shot out, snatching the front of his cloak.
Jassyn’s stomach twisted with the churn of nausea as he was wrenched into a warp.
The world lurched when he reappeared, his magic yanked out of his control. Jassyn’s back smashed into a snow drift wedged between a tangle of trees, the impact driving the breath from his lungs.
Lykor had somehow remained upright, standing in defiance against the storm. The torrent of ice struck just beyond them, the onslaught shattering against the earth in a lethal assault.
A sickening thud and a grunt snapped Jassyn’s attention back to Lykor. Fangs bared, he clutched a shard of ice, its jagged tip buried deep at the slope where his neck met his shoulder. His knees trembled, then buckled, and he crashed to the ground.
