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Feathery black wings stretched out on either side of him, smoky shadows misting off them, as Sid descended with a shocked Cedric caught on her back.

“Four hells, Sid,” Cedric said, his breath stuttering with pain when she landed hard and he rolled inelegantly off the shadowcat. “You saved me again.” Another thing she and her mother had in common, evidently.

For a moment Sid looked like she was preening, her chin lifting, her eyelids drooping. But then she wobbled, one paw slipping out from beneath her, and the shadowcat collapsed in a pile of feathers and fur and misty shadows.

“Sid!” Cedric roared, dropping to his knees. His ribs screamed, agony pulsing through his bones, and he wondered how many of hers she had broken by cushioning his fall. “Stars fucking damn it.”

“Oh no.” Tenny’s soft voice behind Cedric was so unexpected, so miraculous, he nearly collapsed as it filtered into his ears. His vision filled with strawberry curls and amber eyes turned down with concern. One hand was on her token, her other palm already glowing with healing light as she skidded to a stop beside Cedric.

She ran her hand over Sid’s fallen form, her shoulders sagging with relief. “She’s all right,” she breathed. “Just in shock. She’ll be fine. You need to go.”

“How did you get down here?” He craned his neck, looking for a sign of Fjaethe or Polonius, nausea rumbling at the thought of one of the monsters still on the field tearing into the horses.

“Nox,” Tenny replied. “They are at the healing tent with Kit now, and I demanded they send me down.”

Cedric paled. “Kit? Is she⁠—”

“She will live,” Tenny said tightly. “But I don’t know if that will remain true for us all if you stay here and keep talking to me!”

Sid’s eyes fluttered open, and her emerald gaze fixed on Cedric. Go, she seemed to say, even without words.

Cedric hesitated. “I have no weapon.”

Tenny released a shrill laugh. “Cedric Lysander Thorne, are you a stars-damned sunbringer or aren’t you?!”

He blinked at her. His recent attempt at fighting with his magic alone had certainly not gone as planned. He was still reeling from it. His magic felt untethered behind his ribs, his furnace rattling, boiling over, breaking. Behind its magical veil, the crown was heavy on Cedric’s head. He didn’t know how to direct his power, how to best use it. All he’d really been able to do on the battlefield so far was mimic Raefe and other flamecallers, and doing so clearly had its limitations.

And there were still so many enemies standing between him and the crater.

The rest of their remaining forces were continuing to catch up, rallying toward the former location of the mana spring. Cedric swiveled his head to see Kingsley crouched low, Ludov charging at him with a warrior’s cry. The dwarf leapt upon his brother, who rapidly stood, launching Ludov into the air. He careened toward one of the abominations, dropping onto it from above, and Cedric heard the distinct sound of bones snapping as the beast buckled to the ground. Nearby, four soldiers had one of the sanguinagi mages surrounded, their swords slicing through the cultist’s scarlet whips.

But more monsters had caught up too, swooping in from above, sprinting through the snow with feral, beastly snarls.

Quartered hell, there were just so many. How were there still so many?

The bond in Cedric’s chest pulsed, urgent and sharp.

He took in a long breath through his nose, and the world slowed for just a moment.

Yes, Ashrender had fallen to the abyss. Sid was barely conscious. Cedric had scarcely begun to understand his power, let alone master its use.

But Elyria was somewhere down there, confronting the dark sorcerer that was single-handedly responsible for all this death. She was fighting to save a world that had already been so cruel to her. Fighting to give all the peoples of Arcanis the chance for a better life.

She was fighting for him.

So, yes, many enemies stood in his way, keeping him from her.

But Cedric was the Sunfyre Heir.

And it was not just his own magic blossoming behind his ribs now.

Cedric stood.

Dazzling light burst from his hands, so blinding that the monsters rushing toward him had to turn away, hissing as they covered their tar-stained, skeletal faces with claw-tipped hands.

Not Cedric, though.

He stared straight ahead as he kindled the daylight in his palms, feeding it, letting it grow. It started to take shape, lengthening, broadening—an enormous white-gold silhouette. He added the barest spark of Elyria’s wild magic, something he held deep in his chest, nestled against his heart like the precious thing it was.