My furious gaze shot down the narrow avenue to the furthest end of the vast cavern to whomever was standing right there, staring right at me. He wasn't as tall as the other warriors, and he was positioned on the far side of the cavern. Ghostly fingers of wind gently washed his long tunic upward, fluttering its hem to reveal more of the stiff leather armor encasing his body. Black armor that was scudded with dust as if he'd traveled long and far to get down here. He raised his double-handed sword, its double-edged blade gleaming silver in the darkness. It was sleek and menacing with intricate detailing etched down the fuller.

It hit me with a startled inhale, that the mask he wore had eye slits. I couldn't quite make out the color of their irises, but they were distinctively human-looking. And I bet on my life that they were bright fucking blue.

Rage exploded through my body like a blistering firestorm when I realized who the hells this guy was.

Silas Boon. A.K.A. Barbie Doll Ken.

This was the fucker that was after Nelle.

My fists tightened on the hilts of my swords.

I was going to annihilate the prick!

Silas burst into movement.

He charged so fast I could barely track him.

Stones rattled beneath my boots as I shifted my footing quickly, twisting my hips and lowering my stance, angling my swords, readying for combat.

Silas disappeared then reappeared, almost as if he were swifting in short bursts like my family's Birds of Prey. But it wasn't swifting. Whatever he was doing, whatever this ability was, it was different. There weren't any swifting winds kicking up his tunic, nor did he seem to rematerialize like an image taking shape in an old-fashioned photograph.

He vanished—then reappeared.

There—then gone.

Fast, like a blink.

Holy shit what the fuck is this guy?

That ancient thing inside me roared in fury, slithered and hackled. An ancient melody, honey and wicked, strummed in time with my heartbeat.

End him... End him... End him!

I lunged forward, my leg striding out, my boot hitting the rocky floor.

The edge of my mind bled into darkness.

There was just me and him.

I was going to fucking dice him into pieces!

It was my friend that brought me back from the brink of madness.

"DON'T YOU DARE!" Mela roared, her voice booming across the cavern.

Her command snapped me from Silas. My gaze whipped over my shoulder and my teeth gritted against one another with shock, as my slitted eyes fixated on the dull gleam of light dancing over a black blade. Mela pressed a dagger against Yezekael's throat. His moon crescent eyes were wide with terror. "I swear to Zrenyth, Gray, I will slit his throat if you don't get yourself back here!"

The wall of shields was complete. The line of hunters and soldiers curved in a semicircle from the wall and then back to it. Jiao's glare was dark with fury and challenge. He thrust an arm into the air, hollering an order. To my horror, every single Crowther and Văduva disengaged their shields in support of Mela.

The hardened air fizzled away, leaving them open and vulnerable to attack.

Fuck! No!

Storming footfall, quickened breaths, and an enraged snarl had my attention spinning back to Silas. He kept charging at me and I wanted to fucking meet him.

My fingers clenched the hilt of my blades. I rose on the balls of my feet, leaning forward, readying to launch forward—

"GET BACK HERE NOW!" Mela bellowed.

Godsdammit!

In a blink Silas was gone—

He reappeared, almost upon me.

His roar was one of fury and he swung his sword back in a whiplash, slashing it forward, aiming for me—

But I pivoted on my heel, pushing off, surging into a leggy stride, pushing faster as I raced toward the row of soldiers holding disengaged shields—

One step—

Two—

Three—

I ducked low, my leg muscles coiling tight, releasing, and I leaped. My legs kicked through the air as I vaulted over the tall line of men and women, flipping and twisting mid-arc, the rush of air feathering through my hair, brushing against my skin. I landed heavily on the other side, facing forward.

"NOW!" Jiao yelled. The row of soldiers and hunters engaged their shield devices.

An explosive surge of magic instantly formed shields of hardened air with sharp spikes at the bottom of each.

As one entity, everyone raised their shield and slammed it down. Fast. Hard. The spike pierced through rock and drove itself down deep to hammer it into place and reinforce the wall's strength.

Thrumming power rushed across the line of locked shields, uniting them all as one. Dark magic shot upward, right to the cavern's ceiling, and created a thick wall of power that wavered in front of us like a sheet of falling water, except it cascaded upward from the shield-wall and formed a magical bubble around us all. We were effectively ensconced within a fortress.

Silas skidded to a halt.

His entire body shook with rage.

From behind the smooth white mask, a strangled sound of rage ripped from his throat.

Denied my death, madness and fury burned in his dark gaze.

Silas lunged—

Slamming his sword against the shield wall in a strike of fury. The blade's razor edge struck the barrier of magic wavering between us—

Dark magic crackled and fizzed—

Fiery sparks showered wide as if a metal grinder had taken to the blade.

Yet, the barrier held strong.

The blade ricocheted off and Silas was jerked back with the rebound. The furious momentum shunted him off balance.

Tendons corded my neck and my muscles quivered with how tightly strung they were held. I paced back and forth like a caged beast, my eyes narrowed as thinly as Silas's. My anger hadn't abated. No, that thing whispering beneath my skin only dug in deeper with claws and fangs. Territorial. Resentful. Murderous. I adjusted my fingers, throttling my sword's hilts, wishing to wield them, to smite the prick down.

Silas kept his dark glare fixed on mine as he drew back slowly. Beneath the tunic was a light layer of chainmail like our ancestors used to wear. The distinctive sound of rustling metal links could be heard as he retreated. With each step, he struck the roughly hewn ground with his blade. Clang! Clang! Clang!—rang out like the bass beat to a death song as he withdrew to his line of warriors.

"Gray." My name was a soft sound, barely discernible...

...before it was barked louder. "GRAY!"

My gaze swung wildly to Mela. She'd let go of Yezekael, who'd shuffled back, his strange eyes bouncing between me and my friend.

I blinked rapidly as my mind was torn away from Silas...and Mela came into focus. The taut muscles in my body relaxed a degree or two. Mela tucked her dagger back into the leather scabbard strapped to her hip and took a step closer. She frowned, angling her chin behind me. "Who the hells is that?" Blood was crusted in her eyebrows. They pinched together as she examined my face intently as if she could learn the truth from the cold anger creasing my features. I hitched a shoulder like I didn't know.

By the irritated twitch in her right eye and the puckering of her mouth, Mela knew I was lying. She leaned closer to whisper-hiss at me, "Why does this feel personal, Gray?"

I couldn't tell her the truth—that she was right. That Barbie Doll Ken was after Nelle and the obvious way to free her from the Alverac was to get rid of me permanently. When I kept my lips firmly sealed, she gave a vexed harrumph, before storming forward and brushing past me.

Jiao stood on a rocky outcrop. He'd positioned himself as our sharp-eyed general, keeping an eye on the enemy and shooting curt orders to those holding up the wall. Văduvas and Crowthers stood side by side with locked shields in a long row that curved from the wall and back again. The wounded were clustered behind us, gathered around the foot of Jiao's rocky outcrop, our medic performing battle medicine, a colleague assisting her with an array of magic-infused medicines and tools from House Simonis.

I spun around and sheathed my swords. Mela retook her shield from Petra, who'd held hers while my friend had baited me into the stronghold by threatening Yezekael. Petra's springy hair bounced as she stepped sideways, readjusting a hold on her own shield with one hand while quickly brushing away the drizzle of blood running down her furrowed forehead before it ran down her nose. I shoved into a leggy stride to join those at the shield wall. Mela adjusted her position to allow me to move in and lean my shoulder against her shield, both of us bracing it.

The steady THUMP-THUMP-THUMP of the anti-swifter was the only thing heard in the quiet of the cavern. Its green glow radiated across the confined space we were holed up within and coated everyone's grim expression in a sickly hue.

The barricade of magic shimmered in front of us like sheets of rainwater and slightly warped the view beyond. Just out of reach of the flashlight strobes poking into the cavern, the Children of the Harbinger appeared like a thick copse of trees in the distance, surrounded by pockets of fire. They were eerily silent and remained as still as death as they looked at us from behind their eyeless papier-mâché masks. All but for their leader, Silas, who kept his death glare locked on me.

"Oh, shit," Mela hissed, as six tall warriors kicked into movement. Their robes rippled around their figures as they charged across the cavern, firelight stroking their brutal physiques as they raised their swords, angling them toward us.

It happened fast. One warrior—two, three more—disappeared within swifting winds.

"HERE THEY COME!" Jiao bellowed behind us.

I sent a quick prayer to our god of war, Brangwene, that Caidan's device would keep them from swifting behind the wall of magic.

"BRACE!" Jiao yelled.

It was a hail of mighty punches smacking into the magical shield. The physical power behind the warriors' hits rattled the wall and our shields, the tremors jarring through our bodies, the force of it trying to knock us off our feet. I gritted my teeth, digging my boots into the pockmarked ground, pushing forward, holding strong.

The warriors reappeared in a swirl of robes and a flail of limbs as they bounced off the shield wall like Nelle had done when the swifting monoliths blocked her escape from my family estate. They soared backward, hitting the rocky ground and tumbling before quickly rolling onto their feet, righting themselves.

Retaliation came fast.

A small squad of weaponized warriors—arbalists—stepped out of the main host and into a neat, orderly row. They were armed with enormous repeating crossbows loaded with bolts that reminded me of slender missiles. Their tips fizzed with dark magic.

They aimed—

And fired—

"INCOMING!" Jiao roared. "CURSED WARHEADS!"

Bolts screamed across the cavern, scorching a trail of bright light that split apart the darkness. The missile-like bolts struck our wall and detonated in a blaze of fiery might.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The cavern lit up like the mortals celebrating the Fourth of July. As if Nine Hells had unleashed itself upon us, the world erupted into savage, blinding light. Ear-shattering explosions. Ribbons of white-hot lightning exploded across the shield. A deadly stabbing of ice. A lethal punch of storm wind. A pounding of raucous thunder. The rocky ground quaked beneath our feet with a mighty strike of earth-trembling magic. Our wall shuddered and warped with each impact and jostled up against our braced shoulders.

It was a fucking one-way battle zone. The arbalist squad kept shooting bolts of jacked-up cursed magic. Their storm of fire kept hammering at us.

I was shoved, shunted with the force. My feet scrambled for purchase on the stony ground, my thigh muscles screaming for relief as I leveraged myself against the immense force pushing back, kept driving my shoulder into a shield that felt like both iron and parchment as it, and us, were knocked brutally with every impact.

Slowly, so slowly the exploding warheads died away and dirty clouds of smoke wafted across the cavern. The arbalists holstered their crossbows and melted away, swifting to rejoin the ranks of Silas's army.

My body sagged against the shield and I loosened a pent-up breath, swiping my shaky fingers through the sweat drizzling down my brow. The anti-swifter's thump-thump-thump kept pace with my heartbeat. Mela and I shared a relieved look. Our fortress would hold for a while longer. For now, we were safe.

I took hold of Petra's shield as she went to check on the wounded. Jiao jumped down from the rock and inspected the wall, changing positions so the wounded who were part of the shield wall were situated between stronger team members.

Mela glanced over her shoulder, looking toward the wounded. Set within their pale complexions, waxy with clammy sweat, their eyes were glassy with the effect of morphine and magic to stamp out the pain. The medics, with blood splattered all over their armor, were performing battlefield surgery, assisted by a few wounded Crowther soldiers who were able to withstand their injuries and help. Beside me, I caught Mela staring at the rocky floor which pooled with too much blood.

I wasn't sure if those badly hurt in the attack would survive, even if we did. The feeling of loss almost overwhelmed me, and Mela too. I could see the deep emotion engulf her as she blinked back tears. The wounded weren't blood-related but they were family to us both. Her voice was hoarse when she said, "We'll get them out of here, to our infirmaries," and nodded quickly as if she were trying to convince herself. Uncertainty was a faint echo in her tone.

As crazy as it was in this bleak moment, and perhaps because the tiny bird represented hope, the bird of flames arrested my thoughts and tipped my mouth up into a lopsided smile. Admiration warmed my chest. "A Phynx?"

Mela's soft nose wrinkled with a watery grin. "Been in our House for generations." She raised a bent wrist to rub soot off her forehead. Her gaze became thoughtful as she stared in the direction the Phynx had flown. Her bloodshot eyes met mine and she gave a determined nod. "It should have arrived home by now. They'll contact your family, I know it."

My mind rapidly calculated how long until my brothers would arrive. Maybe four hours. Which was a fucking long time to wait, especially in this kind of siege. This was a makeshift stronghold at best. "We just have to hold on until then. We can do that," Mela added firmly.

In my periphery, I saw Petra stiffen. Jiao too. Both of them angled their bodies toward the Children of the Harbinger. Beside me, Mela had glanced away. "Oh gods, what are they up to now?" she breathed.

I followed her gaze, scanning the cavern behind our barrier of dark magic.

The fragile hopeful feeling I'd harbored drifted apart like cold mist, replaced by a chilling sensation settling into my bones as the Children of the Harbinger moved as one entity, forming a circle around Silas. The way they moved, strangely orchestrated in their deployment and without a single glance at another, was fucking eerie.

They circled Silas and he disappeared within their ranks.

While the warriors at the front had sheathed their swords, those in the second row had drawn their swords up over their heads. Their huge, gloved hands clasped the hilts, the blades pointed downward.

"What do you think they're doing?" Mela asked quietly.

My armor creaked gently as I shifted my stance, weaving my head to the side to see if I could gain a better view. Confusion nudged my eyebrows together as I tried to assimilate all the weird puzzle pieces before me. I shook my head, unable to tear my gaze away from the formation they were making, unable to fathom just what they were doing when the front row began to move clockwise. I stared keenly through the wall of magic that separated us. The shimmering waterfall of magic reaching from the floor to the roof of the vast chamber made the view a touch disorientating.

I felt it before I saw the gathering of power, swirling like ocean spindrift around the moving horde of warriors. It was a skin-crawling sensation, like a swarm of tiny, creepy critters scuttling all over my flesh.

An icy shiver rushed down my spine and I sucked in an anxious breath just as the warriors picked up speed and began to partially swift as fast as shooting stars, their speed cranking faster-faster-faster, as they rotated like a fucking machine. The air was stirred and buffeted outward to crash up against our shield wall in turbulent cresting waves.

Power wheeled around the spinning horde, sweeping like thin shoals of moonlight fish. The power thickened, darkened, and became strands of sizzling magic almost like the kind Sirro used to sap the life force from his Familiar. This magic, this dark power swirled in ever-increasing speeds like blustering squall winds. It spun upward, high, well above the rotating army, spinning a vortex, wavering and hovering there for a moment, before—

It plunged downward—

Splitting apart and striking the swords held over the warriors' heads like forked lightning.

It used the blades as a conduit, carrying volts of malicious white-hot energy that spat and fizzed. The swords, alive with dark magic, were thrust downwards—

Ear-piercing and mind-shattering noise erupted as sinister magic and steel met solid rock. And a cataclysmic explosion detonated.

A violent quake discharged beneath our boots

Exploding through rock

The cavern. The entire catacombs.

We were tossed off our feet—

Stones bounced upward with us.

As we became briefly airborne.

Hellsgate!

Hells, hells, hells!

My stomach thudded into my throat

And then we crashed back down heavily.

A deafening rumble almost drove out the sound of Jiao bellowing orders to keep the shields locked, to keep ourselves braced, as the ground shuddered and trembled beneath us as if an enormous jackhammer pounded the rocky floor of the cavern.

We were jostled about by the quaking earth.

My teeth chattered and my bones rattled, feet skittered on the shifting ground.

A powerful burst of energy blew outward, slamming against the shield as the drilling stopped and dust and chunks of rock churned upward in thick streams toward the ceiling, caught up in a tornado of magic. It sprayed outward like oil pumped from underground.

Rockfall splashed everywhere, scattering and thudding upon the ground with a clamorous rain of noise.

And then silence, but for our heavy breathing. The panicked whispers. The pained moans of the wounded. Through the clouds of smoke stirred by wind and dark magic, I could see a wide ring of rubble surrounding the enemy.

The swifting had stopped and the army split right down the middle and stepped aside, kept moving until they revealed a smaller squad of warriors stretched in a long row, two apiece. They held something between them like pallbearers. It was long and heavy and menacing

"Oh, my gods..." Mela breathed. "It's not..."

My guts pitched and roiled in sickly horror as it sank in what that thing fucking was.

I finished Mela's thought, "It's a battering ram."