I don’t mean to fall asleep. One second, I am staring into the dark, trying to trace patterns in the branches overhead. Next, I am jolting upright, heart pounding and limbs heavy with sleep.
I sit up and scan the trees. Moonlight barely reaches the forest floor. Everything looks like shadows and shapes.
I hear a faint whisper. My head snaps toward it. My hand instinctively goes to my sword.
“Lioran,” I whisper hoarsely. “Asbel. Wake up.”
Neither stir.
“Now.”I reach over and roughly nudge Lioran with the back of my hand.
Lioran groans and blinks up at me. “What—?”
Something screeches in the darkness. A dry, guttural rasp.
I shoot to my feet, sending sharp pains throughout my body. “Get up!” I hiss.
That does it. Asbel jerks awake. Lioran curses, scrambling to his feet just as the first wraith shoots out of the shadows, shrieking.
Steel rings out as my blade meets it mid-lunge, impact rattling down my arm. These aren’t like the ones we saw earlier or the ones Serenya and I fought. No. These are stronger. Faster.
“Behind you!” Asbel shouts, drawing his twin daggers.
I pivot just in time to block another strike. I move on instinct, teeth gritted, adrenaline forcing my aching limbs to work.
Another wraith dives for Lioran, who ducks and flings a glowing orb of fire at it. “Seriously, Koen. Do you just attract these things?!”
I don’t respond. I am too busy trying to keep my head on.
One wraith slips past my guard, claws raking across my shoulder. I grunt, twisting to avoid the full hit, then drive my blade straight through the creature’s chest. It wails, flickers, then explodes into ash. The others keep coming.
Asbel is fast, darting through the trees. Lioran curses as another wraith corners him, throwing up a barrier just in time.
I don’t feel tired anymore. I feel alive—or close to it. And focused. Every strike I make is for her. Every breath I steal back from death is for Serenya.
Ash and shadows choke the air as I drive my blade through the last of the five wraiths. I barely have time to catch my breath when I hearthat soundagain.The same whisperingrasp, multiplied.
“...No,” I mutter as nine more wraiths emerge from the darkness. Towering, silent, their hollow eyes glimmering like distant stars.
“Oh come on,” Lioran gasps, stumbling back. “Where the hells are they coming from?!”
“They are drawn to magic,” Asbel says, stepping forward, blades in hand. “And we are shining like a beacon in this cursed land.”
All at once, the wraiths attack.
I meet the first with a roar, blade clashing hard against its curved claws. The force rattles my arms, but I push back, driving my boot into the creature’s chest to force space between us. To my left, Lioran spins a circle of fire, launching it outward like a wave, knocking three wraiths back. One ducks under it and lunges, slamming him into the ground.
“Lioran!” I shout.
Before I can move, Asbel darts in, his daggers gleaming as he slashes clean through the wraith’s spine. It disintegrates in a swirl of darkness. Asbel grabs Lioran’s arm, yanking him up before he can get his breath.
“Still with us?” Asbel asks.
“Remind me to kiss you later,” Lioran pants.
Another wraith comes at us, and I slash through it, feeling the sickening pull of shadow magic in the air, sounlike the comfort of Serenya's shadows.
We fight like ghosts in the dark. Silent. Vicious. Relentless. At first, we are chaos. Then slowly, the rhythm comes.
