I risk a glance across the chamber. Aurelia’s still chained, hanging limp between the crystals. Her light flickers like a candle in the wind. Rosalina’s driving briars against the obelisks, eyes wild. Not working.
Fuck.
Dayton’s down. Collapsed in a heap, his trident slipped from his hand. Not moving.
“Damn it,” I hiss.
But Farron’s still up, wreathed in orange flame. Ezryn’s beside him, hammer raised. They’re driving Sira back inch by inch, matching her blow for blow.
A force knocks me away, and I crash against the wall, pebbles raining on my head. What?—
A glowing figure steps in front of my vision. Towering, with long, white hair, eyes flashing green. He moves beside Cas like a second shadow, wielding a sword longer than I am tall and twice as heavy. It hums with power. The kind of power that splits worlds.
So he’s got enough magic from Aurelia to be physically here, at least partly.
And father and son are coming for me.
I stand and parry left—Cas’s blade. Block right—the Baron’s. Ice sprays with every hit, frost trying to slow them down, but it’s no use. I’m getting pushed back. One step. Then another.
Cas moves fast, brutal. No hesitation. And the Baron is not even fully here, and I still can’t land a strike.
I duck under a slash, feel the heat of the green magic skim my cheek.
Too slow.
The Baron hurls a blast of energy, and I take it full in the chest. I hit the ground hard, the wind knocked out of me. Both my ice swords shatter.
This is bad.
Caspian stalks forward, face half-lit in sickly green. His eyes flicker for a heartbeat with something real.
Then it’s gone.
“Damn it, Cas,” I mutter, spitting blood. “Fight it!”
“The Green Flame cannot be caged, not by him. It is woven into his very blood. Itishim.” The baron raises that monstrous blade again.
I try to form a new blade, a shield, anything. There isn’t time?—
“Two against one isn’t fair.”
Ezryn.
He crashes down between us, hammer slamming into the ground with a blast of light. The shock wave ripples out, knocking the Baron back a step. Cas stumbles too, snarling.
Ezryn flashes me a grin. “Let’s even the odds.”
We fight, the four of us: me, Ezryn, Caspian, and the damned glowing form of the Baron. Blades and hammer and flame and shadow. Ice splinters underfoot, and green magic spits like venom.
Ezryn swings heavily, every hit a quake. I dart around him, cutting where I can, but the Baron doesn’t falter. Caspian’s not holding back anymore.
It’s chaos.
And we’re losing.
I’m losing.
I feel it in my arms, heavy now, slow. My breath fogs in front of me, coming too fast. Frost crawls over my shoulders, trying to brace what strength I have left. Even with my blessing, it’s hard to reach its full potential in the Below.
