The elders' laughter swells, reverberating unnaturally through the stone. Cracks splinter across the marble beneath their feet.
Dark energy spirals upward in violent columns, tornadoes of shadow twisting toward the sky.
The crowd screams.
I leap from the viewing box without hesitation. The instant my boots hit stone, the nearest vortex detonates outward. Wind slams into my face.
"Rhianelle!"
I reach for her—
Invisible pressure seizes me. The darkness coils around my limbs, dragging me backward into a sphere of writhing shadow.
The last thing I see—
Rhianelle's silver hair caught in a storm of crimson light.
And two of those damned Aeonians vanishing with her into the whirlwind.
The disorientation clears quickly.
I stand in a circular chamber made of shadow. The walls pulse like a heartbeat. There's no sky above. The fourth elder stands before me.
Her hood is gone. The veins beneath her skin glow faintly.
"I am Samara," she says.
Her voice is layered with multiple tones speaking in unison. It's as though the dead themselves murmur through her throat. "I have worn many names. I have consumed many lives."
I ignore her.
I turn, testing the boundary. The wall resists like hardened smoke when I strike it. Shadow ripples outward but does not break.
"Rhianelle!" My voice crashes against the dome and dies. "I'm coming for you!"
Nothing answers.
No echo.
I can't hear anything from the other vortexes. This realm is completely sealed off. Every instinct screams at me to break through these walls and reach Rhianelle. But Samara steps forward, and I know I'll have to go through her first.
"Your wife faces Leafhdraich and Siullan," Samara taunts, extending fingers that end in claws of pure shadow. "The strongest among us. By now, her pretty silver hair is probably scattered across—"
My fist connects with her face. But it's like punching smoke. My hand passes through her head, and she reforms behind me. "The little queen's pet monster. How fitting that you should die here, in a realm that mirrors your own darkness."
Her laughter echoes from every direction. "Did you think I was like poor, weak Kafren? The one you killed in the tunnels?"
She materializes behind me. Her shadowy claws rake across my back, tearing through my coat and drawing blood. The wounds burn with corrupted magic.
"I have fed on the life force of thousands."
I spin and grab for her throat. She dissolves again and reforms on the opposite side of the chamber. "Your wife probably screamed so sweetly when they—"
I call upon Coinneach.
His shadow has been my companion since the day Lilith cursed me. Black tendrils explode from my body, seeking not her flesh but the stolen energy that animates her.
They find it.
