Page 71 of The Thief's Mark

Griff clenched his jaw. His finger trembled on the trigger. “Do it now, Sasha, or I swear to the Goddess, I’ll shoot!”

Sasha splayed his hands out, taking a step forward. “Come on, Griff. It’s me. I’m your—”

Griff shot him in the chest. The bullet exploded in a crackle of azure runeflame that transformed into a glowing net. Sasha shouted as he toppled over, the net wrapping around his limbs.

Ignoring Sasha’s flailing protests, Griff stalked past him and threw open the High Commander’s door. His heart plummeted when, instead of the familiar office, a swirling violet void greeted him.

I’m too late.

He stretched a tentative hand out, yanking it back when the chaotic magic threatened to sear away his skin. Focusing on it with his aura-sight, he studied the ebb and flow of magic. The very sight of it twisted his gut and made him want to vomit. It was like the foul aura from that void orb amplified a hundred-fold.

As best he could tell through his nausea, the magic had sealed away the room beyond, the swirling portal ahead of him some kind of planar fissure. Cal and High Commander Pern must be trapped inside. Which meant there was only one thing Griff could do.

Steadying himself, he braced his legs and faced the portal.

From the ground nearby, Sasha ceased his writhing. “Don’t be a fool, Griff! It’s too late! They’re gone! If you go in there, you’ll be trapped alongside them!”

I’m coming, Cal.Ignoring Sasha’s cries, Griff hurled himself into the violet maw.