She gave one nod, calling, “Eyes up!”
Her boots dug into the churned earth as she closed the distance between them in a sprint, hurdling over pieces of dead Hollow-born, dragging ropey viscera through the dirt in her wake.
Fenn crouched low, both hands open and braced. She planted one foot in his palms, feeling the sudden coil of strength—muscle and Source power—release beneath her. The world lurched as he launched her upward, wind punching beneath her in a focused blast of element.
Her body spun, flipping in a controlled arc. While underneath, the field bent and shifted in fire and shadow, the tangle of living and dead. She leveled herself midair, eyes fixing forward, scanning for the barrier…and for the rest of her team.
There!
Taren charged ahead, his great sword gleaming in a vortex of elemental fury. Lightning, wind, and water swirled around his blade as he swung it wide, cutting through swathes of the dead, blow after blow.
“Keep moving!” He planted his feet and sent a shockwave of earth through the ground, toppling the wave in front of them.
Bran dove in over the downed enemies, his hands blazing with fire. “I’ll make a path!” He unleashed torrents of flames at the dead, while flashes of power shot from his eyes.
“Pay attention, Bran!” Elara yelled through the roar of the elements. “Now is not the time for showing off!” Her palms burst forward—one, two, three—and each strike sent a burst through the air, hitting the enemy like cannon blasts. The three closest undead behind Bran jerked backward, limbs flailing before they crumpled into the dirt.
Rynna's ascent slowed, then briefly paused before gravity reclaimed her.
To the right of her team, Skarn was closing in, his purple robes drifting like smoke. To the left, a wall of dead poured toward them in an unbroken wave.
“Shit.” She spread her arms and legs wide, slowing the fall, voice breaking across the chaos. “On your left!”
Bran and Elara’s heads looked up in unison, eyes locking on her before they shifted position, sliding to guard Taren’s left flank.
Rynna tipped her weight, tucking her body, then pulled her arms and legs tight into a dive, sending herself into a direct drop. And as the ground rose toward her, Fenn’s dark shape filled her sight. Smile tugging at her lips, she wondered, again, if he’d come up with this nonsensical scouting technique all those years ago just to lay hands on her during missions.
He caught her out of the air without flinching, hands closing on her waist before redirecting her momentum into a sideways arc. Her feet hit the ground in a low skid, dirt spraying as she came to a halt, grinning widely, adrenaline buzzing through her blood.
Kaelith spun away from a group of undead, wind screaming around him as bodies came apart mid-lunge. “Since when do you fly?” His voice rolled low, eyes flicking over her.
“You’re not the only one with tricks.” Fenn drove forward, stone erupting down the path he carved to her. “Rynna. Report.”
“Taren’s still testing the barrier. Elara and Bran are holding his left.” She glanced past Fenn to Kaelith. “Skarn’s approaching from their right.”
“Then that’s our position.” Fenn stepped into Kaelith’s path.
Kaelith’s head tilted, that pointed smile spreading. “Skarn is mine.”
Fenn didn’t pause, just lifted his arm to the other man’s shoulder. “We approach together.”
Fangs bared, his gaze dropped to Fenn’s grip on his shoulder and then back to his face. “You don’t understand what he did.”
“It doesn’t matter. I won’t have you risk the team.”
They stood like that, the space between them tight as a drawn bowstring, the dead closing in but neither moving first.
“We’ll hold the space so you can face him.” Rynna’s fingers closed around Kaelith’s hand. And, before either could respond, she reached out with her other hand and caught Fenn’s, adding, “As a team.”
Both men went still, their grips hardening without a word.
“Agreed?” she growled as the dead pressed closer, their moans bleeding into the crackle of power building at her fingertips.
Two weapons lifted in answer—Fenn’s blades and Kaelith’s claws.
“Good.” She nodded, gathering her Will for the jump.
The world broke around them, air collapsing inward as pressure popped her ears. Then it spat them out into the open scar of a clearing she'd seen during her flight.
