Oh, fuck.
Rynna barely noticed Bran moving around the wide perimeter, likely targeting the rogue leader, when a swelling of Source power caught her attention. She turned just in time to see a lance of sharpened air tearing toward her.
Wind scythe! She dove out of the way as it sliced through the space where she’d stood, cutting a tree clean in two behind her.
“Rynna!” Bran called, whipping around.
“I’m fine!” she barked, bouncing quickly back to her feet. “Don’t worry about me!” She couldn’t afford any distractions. If Fenn started using his specialized Source attacks, it would take every ounce of her focus just to survive. She didn’t know if she could protect Bran at the same time.
Yata’s cackling filled the clearing. “How beautiful! Again! Again!” He clapped his hands with manic delight.
Fenn moved his hands, and the air around them grew heavy before the ground beneath her feet cracked and buckled, sending jagged spikes of earth shooting up like spears. She rolled to the side just as one tore through her loose trousers, rending a deep gash in her leg.
She knew he was good, but utilizing multiple elements like that all at once…it was damned impressive.If only he wasn’t using it to freaking kill me!
Meanwhile, Bran darted toward Yata, throwing knives in his direction. A gust of wind intercepted each projectile summoned with a casual flick of Yata’s wrist. Laughing, the rogue snapped his fingers, sending smaller wind scythes toward Bran. The boy barely dodged the sharp gusts grazing his skin, leaving cuts along his arms.
“Is that the best you can do?” Yata scoffed in contempt as Bran moved further around. “Come on, boy! They gave you the Crimson Wolf!” He gestured to Fenn with both hands. “Show me you are worthy and not a sign of early retirement for the legend!”
Rynna barely had time to process the insult before Fenn moved again, and the ground beneath him rose in a wall of stone. The wall crumbled immediately into hundreds of sharp, dagger-like shards that he sent hurtling toward her. She vaulted over a fallen log, rolling just in time to avoid being skewered.
“Fenn!” she yelled, hoping that something in him could hear her, but there was no sign of recognition in his eyes. He was completely lost to the Veilroot.
The Unit Leader advanced, fire flaring from his fingertips as he swiped at her. She spun low, aiming a kick at his legs, but he blocked it with an arm of stone. Lightning crackledaround his other fist as he slammed down, forcing her to roll out of the way just as the earth exploded where she had been standing.
She countered with a quick upward slice of her blade, aiming for his side, but he was too fast, his arm catching hers mid-swing, twisting her momentum off-balance. In a blur, he shoved her backward with a gust of wind, sending her crashing into a tree, and before she could recover, he was on her.
His hand closed around her throat, crushing her windpipe and pinning her against the bark, leaving her legs to dangle uselessly beneath her. Rynna gasped for air, her vision swimming as the pressure increased. He hadn’t even noticed her knife, pressing into his own throat, the edge sharp enough to draw a thin line of blood. He didn’t care.
Fenn’s grip tightened, and her world shrank to the narrow tunnel of darkness closing in around her eyes. Her hand trembled, the knife at his throat barely holding steady. But she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t kill him.
“Rynna! No!” Bran’s scream ripped through the chaos, desperate and terrified.
She had fucking failed. The thought pounded in her skull.
Then, before she lost awareness, she caught a glimpse of the boy over Fenn’s shoulder, his entire body blazing with fire. His eyes were wide with panic, and then—an explosion. Red-hot flames erupted from him, but that wasn’t all. A brilliant stream of white heat surged forward, intertwining with the red like a phoenix in flight. It barreled toward the two rogue Hollow-borns, lighting up the sky as it screamed across the opening.
“You missed!” Yata screeched as the fire streamed by, leaving him only lightly singed.
“Did I?” Bran wheezed, sinking to his knees.
Rynna froze as Fenn’s iron grip suddenly loosened. Air rushed into her lungs with a gasp, and she crumbled to the ground at his feet, clutching her throat. Where Cain had stood moments before, there was now only a pile of ash, blowing gently in the wind.
He tricked him, Rynna thought, a disbelieving giggle bubbling up from somewhere deep within her. Bran, the class clown, the Hollow-born who could barely control his Source power enough to light a candle, tricked him.
“Yes! Bran!” she tried to call, but her voice didn’t work.
“Fang Unit!” Bran raised a weak fist to the air in triumph, a crooked grin on his face, before his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed into unconsciousness.
Fenn continued to loom above her, unmoving. She scrambled to her feet. “Fenn?!” She slapped him once, then twice. “Fenn! Wake up! We need you!”
But he remained distant, eyes glassy. Rynna’s heart pounded as she glanced around. The Crow was gone, but she knew he was out there. They weren’t safe yet.
“Fenn!” Rynna screamed, searching his eyes desperately, only to find them still vacant, glassy.Shit!
Before she could react, a sharp spear of darkness shot through her shoulder, pinning her to the tree. Pain erupted as another dark lance pierced her opposite shoulder. She gasped, her head snapping toward the source.
Yata stepped from the shadows behind Bran with one hand extended, tendrils connecting him to the black spears impaling her. The shadows pulsed like living veins, coiling from his fingers to her wounds.
