No part of him was free from the dirt he scorned now.
Not a sound mourned his passing.
Varius took a breath. It was done.
His part was done.
A weight on his shoulders lifted, and he scarcely heard the cheers erupting around him.
He had already turned his sorcerous vision back to the border where he’d left Theira.
In time to see her take a hit from one of thetengodscursed sorceresses that surrounded her.
Varius ran.
Theira was a whirlwind of power, throwing spell after spell, stemming the sorcerous tide of ten adepts at once, who at least even if they were fighting her at the same time weren’t coordinating with each other, because sorceresses worked alone.
As much as Theira had been able to experiment since leaving Castle Korossia, and even more since she had Varius to play with, she had plenty of new tricks these sorceresses had never seen.
But improvisation was no substitute for advance planning, and she couldn’t use much from the ground against them.
Theira threw a potion from her belt that swirled a poisonous miasma around her—sorceresses at her level dosed themselves against poison, so it wouldn’t kill her or them, only slow them down while she figured out something more all-encompassing—
Lysithea’s golden arrow speared through the cloud, hitting her in the side.
Theira gasped, the poison vanishing in an instant, and reflexively she threw bolts of magic like exploding a jar of marbles, forcing the sorceresses to dodge backward and giving her a moment to gather herself back together.
They’d realize quickly the drops of sorcery were nothing more than a feint to distract them.
Curse it. She couldn’t use the ground, not now, but if she didn’t—ten sorceresses were too many, even for her.
Varius’ voice broke her focus. “Wait for me, Theira. I’m coming.”
Shehadwaited for him, and hehadcome. To her.
She wouldn’t let him down now.
Theira was about to insist she had everything under control, when the sorceresses facing her stopped.
Stepped aside.
And the Sorcerer Ascendant himself walked through the chaos.
Tychon was power incarnate. Black robes billowed out behind him as he approached, each step reverberating through the earth from the mystical weight of Korossia’s all-powerful Crown Jewel set atop a circlet on his head, radiating a malevolent magenta gleam.
“The Sorceress Transcendent,” Tychon mocked her. “So accommodating of you not to run.”
Lysithea’s expression tightened. He’d known, as he always knew, what she would offer Theira, and Theira now understood why Lysithea had been shocked she hadn’t taken the opportunity. She’d known, and assumed Theira knew, that the Sorcerer Ascendant was out for her blood. He’d only been waiting for a sign that Theira had spent whatever she’d prepared that had any teeth.
But Theira was done running.
“On second thought,” Theira murmured to Varius, “I’m about to be very busy with one sorcerer in particular.”
“I’m on my way,” Varius said, and her heart warmed. The man was willing to put himself in the path of the most powerful sorcerer alive and go toe-to-toe with the best sorceresses Korossia could produce, for her. “Hold on.”
“Oh,” Theira said, and, knowing full well Tychon was listening, smiled wickedly, “I’m not waiting any longer.”
And she moved, casting a dozen spells in an instant.
