Page 225 of The Dark Lord’s Guide to Honeymooning (and Other Acts of Tyranny)

A cry of rage and pain and recognition? The Heirloom flared so hot I cried out, and for a moment I saw Kazimir on the battlefield above, shadow creatures rising from the earth.

“You did this,” I said to Auremar, my voice deadly quiet. “You awakened something that should have stayed buried.”

“I awakened power!” he roared. “Power that will be mine once the prison breaks!”

He attacked again, purple fire streaming from his hands. I deflected it, but barely. The fight with the battle mages had drained me, and Auremar was drawing on corrupted power I couldn’t match.

But I had something he didn’t.

Drawing on the Heirloom and the ley lines from the faraway God Spire, I shaped my magic into chains of shadow and light. They erupted from the floor around Auremar, binding his limbs.

He struggled against them, but they held.

The power flowing through me was intoxicating, addictive. I could feel the corrupted ley lines pulsing beneath my feet, could sense every thread of magic in the chamber. I felt like I could unravel it all with a thought.

“Sebastian! Thorne! Get everyone out now!”

The masked mages suddenly stopped chanting, turning toward me in perfect unison. As one, they reached up and removed their golden masks.

I recognized some of the faces—minor nobles, court mages, even members of the Hero’s Guild. All of them had been part of Auremar’s conspiracy.

“The king has fallen,” one of them said, voice hollow. “The ritual fails. The Shadow King rises anyway.”

They began to dissolve, their bodies crumbling to ash as whatever dark bargain they’d made claimed its price. Within seconds, nothing remained but golden masks clattering to the stone floor.

The walls shook violently, cracks spreading across the ancient murals. The ritual’s failure was destabilizing everything. Or something more was happening above.

“The last of them are through!” Sebastian called from the portal.

I looked at Auremar, still bound in my chains, then at the portal. The smart thing would be to leave him here, let the collapsing chamber deal with him.

But the Alchemist’s warning echoed in my mind. Auremar was tied to the prison somehow. His death might make things worse. But I didn’t dare bring him onto the Sky Serpent. His power was too unpredictable.

“Damn it,” I muttered, then knocked the king unconscious with a pulse of magic.

With a grunt of effort, I opened a small portal—not far, just outside the temple entrance—and unceremoniously shoved his limp body through. He landed in an ungraceful heap on the grass, still wrapped in my shadow chains.

“Someone else’s problem now,” I said. If he survived what was coming, we could retrieve him. If not… well, at least I’d tried.

“Arabella!” Sebastian shouted as larger chunks of ceiling began to fall.

“Go,” I told him. “Tell the Alchemist what happened. Tell them to begin the cleansing ritual immediately.”

“What about you?”

Through our bond, I felt Kazimir—or the thing wearing his face—turn its attention toward Sunspire Palace. Toward me. The ancient consciousness recognized the Heirloom, recognized the blood of its enemy.

It was coming.

“I have to save my husband,” I said, and threw myself through the portal, leaving Sebastian and Thorne to protect the prisoners as I ran to face whatever Kazimir had become.

I landed near the temple ruins to find hell itself had come to Solandris.

The sky was black with dark clouds and unnatural shadows. On the battlefield, chaos reigned. The Bone Behemoth was stomping madly through friend and foe alike. Shadow creatures tore through both armies with equal hunger, and at the center of it all—

My breath caught.

Darkness poured from Kazimir in waves, his eyes solid black, power beyond comprehension radiating from his form. When he smiled, it was the smile of something ancient and terrible finally free.