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With my mother fending off the wights ahead, I whirl around to deal with the new threat.
“Quatir!”I cry. An explosion of aether rips through the air, slamming into the ghouls. It provides me with enough time to cast my next spell.
“Ignir’alas!”Flames spread from my fingers. They stretch into the scorching wings of a phoenix. The spell sweeps into the night and crackles through the dark air.
Then it descends at a terrifying velocity.
Fire roars. Smoke billows. Ash blows through the evening breeze as the flames obliterate the ghouls.
I glance back at the alley where the undead pursued me. They too burn from my mother’s conjured flames. Even the wights.
It seems fire works best against these ghastly creatures.
My mother grabs my hand. She pulls me down the road, toward a large crowd of magi.
But we only manage a few strides before the air hisses to our right.
Heston appears from a cloud of shadows. Fury burns in his gray eyes.
“Ekrad!”he snarls.
Darkness spins from Heston’s fingers. It warps into a towering wall and cuts us off from the group of magi.
Heston’s mouth curls into a heinous smirk. “Mirelle Ashbourne. It’s been a while.”
“Heston.” Aether dances in my mother’s palms, ready to strike. “You will pay for what you have done.”
“Will I now?” Heston barks out a laugh. “And who will I answer to? Nolderan has all but fallen, and its Grandmage will soon share the same fate.”
“You’re gravely underestimating my husband. Your vile magic will never stand a chance against him.”
“You put too much faith in one man, my dear. What will he do when the lives of those he cares for most are at stake? I will force his surrender without needing to cast a single spell.”
“If only Narla could see you now,” my mother says, gritting her teeth, “what a monster you have become.”
“Then it’s a blessing she can’t see me now.” He raises his hand. Darkness gathers. “Rivus.”
A shadow bolt hurdles toward us. My mother draws aether into her grasp. “Telum!”
Her attack meets Heston’s. Aether and darkness explode, ripping through the air. The resulting gust almost throws me off-balance. Both spells annihilate each other, and their remnants dissolve into the atmosphere.
Before my mother can conjure her next attack, Heston hisses, “Gavrik.”
A murder of crows envelops us. Shadowy birds swoop from all angles. Their caws pierce through my ears. Razor-sharp talons and beaks tear at our robes, seeking blood and flesh.
We use our magic to blast the phantom crows with aether and flames. Until finally, the spell is shattered.
We emerge from the cover of darkness with tattered robes and scratched faces. But the attack inflicted no fatal injuries on either of us.
“Muriz!”my mother yells.
Aether encases me. The barrier is as thick as the Arcanium’s ancient stone walls.
I press my hand to the shield. Magic hums furiously beneath it. Beyond the barrier, undead stalk toward my mother.
“Your father,” she gasps between shoutingigniraand battling the ghouls nearest her. “You must tell him Heston is here!”
I swallow, the strained note in her voice hard to bear.
