The Cataclysm steps to the side, twisting and somehow backhanding the gryphon as if he might be an oversized fly. More of that anti-essence explodes between them, sending the gryphon hurtling, tumbling toward the far point of the bluff.
The dragon coils, shifting to clear a path past the careening gryphon as he readies a lunge.
The Cataclysm knocks Reck’s knife strike to the side, grabbing him by the neck and yanking him off his feet with his other hand.
The portal yawns open behind him, as if maybe it had only been masked from our senses. It most effectively cuts off the dragon’s attack — even as the gryphon tumbles right into it.
I scream, flinging my arms forward as if I might actually grab the gryphon from this far away. All the energy of the intersection point reaches with me, tangling around him. Somehow, the beast catches the edge of the portal with his beak, then his talons hook into the craggy granite of the bluff.
Despite being viciously choked, Reck twists in the Cataclysm’s hold, drops the knife into his free hand, and stabs him in the heart.
His father stumbles, dropping the blood-tipped antler.
Brought into play by my sudden terror, the energy of the intersection point continues to stream around us all, swamping the portal and suffocating that vortex of anti-essence.
The gryphon wrenches himself from the portal’s grasp, falling to the ground.
The portal snuffs out.
The Cataclysm stumbles again, as if losing his connection to the portal is another blow. Holding the blade still pinned at his chest, he flings Reck to the ground at my feet.
Reck gasps for air, hacking through a bruised and bleeding neck. I step over him, closing the distance to the Cataclysm.
The gryphon and the dragon hesitate.
I know I’m now too near to their target for them to strike, but I only have eyes for the antler the Cataclysm dropped and all the damage I know it might do. With my aunt’s history fresh in my mind, it’s my soul-bound mates I fear for the most.
The Cataclysm starts laughing. A horrible hacking, grinding sound that prickles down my spine — in warning. Blackened blood speckles across his lips quicker than the now-steady deluge of rain can wash it away.
Severely injured, my aunt’s rejected soul-bound mate watches me reach for the short spear made from the celestial dragon’s antler. Then, moving in a blur, he latches his hand around the spear as I bend to retrieve it. He holds it against me, as if I have any fear of this weapon of his construction.
I don’t.
More of that blackened blood seeps around the blade still jutting out of his chest.
“Step back, Zaya,” Reck rasps through his only half-healed throat, slowly rolling onto his feet.
I lunge instead, wrapping my hand around the antler even as the Cataclysm tries to stab me with it.
The wickedly sharpened point stops inches from my heart.
The Cataclysm snarls, pressing harder, putting more of his considerable might behind the attempt to stab me through the chest. He doesn’t gain another inch.
“This weapon cannot be used against me,” I say, my words creating pure fact as I utter them. “Or anyone else now.”
Under my hand, all the essence embedded into the hastily hewn spear, all the power the Cataclysm hoped to harness from my blood, crumbles under my touch. Rendering the weapon inert.
The cu-sith takes this moment of distraction to strike. Tearing through Reck’s flesh with barely any warning, the massive beast has his teeth fixed around the Cataclysm’s still-outstretched arm before his father can do more than stumble back and twist into a defensive position.
They go down in a fury of teeth and claws, ripping into each other. Dark blood threaded through with the essence of the cu-sith and the anti-essence of the Cataclysm sprays across the rock. The Cataclysm slips on the wet ground, going down. The bluff actually rumbles with the impact.
The cu-sith goes for his throat. The Cataclysm gets a knee between him and the grim reaper, rolling to the side and almost managing to toss the beast off the cliff. The cu-sith hooks his claws into the craggy rock.
But before the beast can regain his footing, the Cataclysm makes it onto his knees, dramatically yanking the knife free from his chest.
I shout, darting forward.
Stupidly.
