Dante threw more power into the defense. His shadows spread thin, trying to plug gaps that kept opening. His nose started bleeding. He ignored it.
Thirty seconds.
Shells pushed through the gap where the volunteer had fallen. Shadow-guards threw themselves into the breach, buying seconds with their lives. One. Then another. Then a third. Each one a death pulse. Each one an absence.
Twenty seconds.
Blood slicked the stairs. The air tasted like copper and death. His people were dying faster than they could hold. The weight was crushing. Suffocating. Every instinct screamed to retreat, to run, to survive.
They held anyway.
"When I say move, you move. Brynn first. Ward-keepers protect her. Everyone else follows."
Trust pulsed through the link.
"Ready!" Stone ground open beside the stairwell.
"NOW!"
His power exploded down the stairs.
Pure force with nowhere for enemies to run. Death magic soconcentrated it turned the air black. Shells disintegrated by the dozen. Fifty. A hundred.
The cost was immense. His vision went dark. His knees buckled.
Not yet.
"MOVE!"
His forces surged into the passage. Dante was last. Shadows forming one final barrier as shells closed from all sides.
"Seal it!"
The door boomed shut.
Dante collapsed against the wall. Hands shaking against the stone.
Brynn was beside him instantly. Her hand on his arm.
"How bad?"
"I'll make it." He wasn't sure. Had to be sure.
Her fingers tightened. "You'd better. I'm not doing this alone."
He looked at her. Blood-spattered. Exhausted. Eyes fierce with something that looked like fear, wearing the mask of determination.
This might be the last time we speak, he thought. If the next chamber is worse. If he's waiting for us. If?—
"Whatever happens in there," he said roughly, "I need you to know?—"
"Don't." Her voice cracked. "Don't say it like goodbye. Say it after. When we've won."
He held her gaze. Nodded once.
"After."
She helped him stand. His body screamed protest. He ignored it.
