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Mulgath’s jaw clatters together in triumphant laughter. With Natharius safely restrained inside his binding circle, he returns his attention to me. His fleshless fingers tighten around the dagger, and his laugh only grows as he reaches for Juron.
Caya’s scream roars through the hall, drowning out the spell-word I murmur.
“Ventrez.”
As the blade nears Juron’s neck, my spell rushes forth. Aether whirls into wind, and a gale sweeps Juron from his feet. It blows him toward us, narrowly avoiding Mulgath’s dagger as it arcs through the air.
There’s a slight thud as Juron lands beside me, his boots hitting the polished floor.
A brief stillness falls upon the hall. The brief silence is filled with my ragged gasps. My uneven breathing isn’t because of the sudden burst of magic. It’s at the realization of how close my plan was to failing. At how close Mulgath’s dagger was slicing through Juron’s neck.
Though I’ve freed him from the necromancer’s clutches, that doesn’t mean that danger is past us. Far from it. Natharius is trapped in Mulgath’s binding circle, and the rest of us are surrounded by legions of undead.
“Kill them!” Mulgath snarls. “Kill them all!”
thirty
Theundeadcloseinon us. Withered hands and decayed teeth lunge toward me. I draw back until I collide with Caya and Zephyr. More undead swarm into the hall, stretching into a sea of skeletons around us. They’re so close their bony fingers almost scrape my flesh.
Before they can reach me, a burst of golden light erupts from Taria.
“Zire!” she cries.
A shield of light wraps around us. The undead who touch Taria’s barrier burst into golden flames. Their unearthly shrieks echo through the hall, piercing my ears.
My heart drums in my chest. Aether and adrenaline pound through my veins.
Somehow, we need to navigate out of this mess. We have Juron, but Natharius is shackled in Mulgath’s binding circle. Abandoning the Void Prince isn’t an option. But right now, I don’t know how we can free him and fight our way to freedom.
My thoughts are interrupted by Mulgath’s growl.
“Rivus.”
He spins the shadows in his skeletal hands, forming a bolt of dark magic. The blast surges toward us.
The attack slams into Taria’s shield. Cracks form in the golden light. She grits her teeth, holding the shield in place. Despite the damage Mulgath has inflicted, her spell still causes nearby undead to burst into flames.
Mulgath doesn’t hesitate to prepare another shadowy bolt. As strong as Taria is, I doubt her shield will withstand a second attack.
And when the barrier falls, we will be left to the mercy of the ravenous undead.Even with Taria’s strength, we won’t be able to defeat them all.
We need Natharius. If I can free the Void Prince from Mulgath’s binding circle, we’ll stand a chance at escaping this fortress.
Despite her concentration, Taria seems to notice my gaze on Natharius. Or perhaps her thoughts merely echo mine.
“Fire,” she rasps. “Fire will extinguish the dark magic.”
I nod. If I can clear the markings of the binding circle from the floor, Natharius will be freed. And fire stands the greatest chance at washing away dark magic.
Not that I’ve ever tried obliterating a binding circle.
Swallowing down hard and doing my best not to consider the consequences of failure, I draw on aether and mutter: “Conparios.”
Father’s staff materializes in my hands, and I close my eyes, using it as a focus to draw on more aether than I naturally can.
Magic hums through my entire being, extending into the staff. When I open my eyes, the pale purple light of aether radiates from me. Magic fizzes and bubbles in my veins, desperate to be unleashed.
Another shadowy blast crashes into Taria’s shield. More cracks form in the golden light, and I fear the shield will fall apart around us like paper. Yet it doesn’t. Somehow it holds fast. New golden light forms over the cracks, mending the damage Mulgath’s second attack caused. But the shield isn’t fully repaired: The spots where cracks formed is thinner than the rest.
