A makeshift battering ram, crudely fashioned from rock had been gouged from the cavern floor. Its pointed end fizzed and crackled with powerful magic, ready to tear apart our stronghold.

The Children of the Harbinger burst into motion.

They charged fast. The battering ram ripped through the darkness, burning a bright glow in a straight line, arrowing not for the dead center of the shield wall, nor aiming at a random spot on the shield wall either, they were aiming right at me.

"BRACE! BRACE! BRACE!" Jiao bellowed.

The battering ram hit—

A thunderous boom exploded in my ears.

The wall jolted inward. Shuddered. Warped with the strike.

The warriors pulled back and thrust forward. Their power and speed were amplified by the dark magic charging in the air, in the battering ram itself.

It slammed in viciously—

The battering ram took to the shield like a monstrous hammer.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The magical barricade started shuddering and shivering and creaking like a siege engine was pounding at the door of the Keep in the old days.

The attack came quicker.

The battering ram pistoned faster and faster and faster.

BOOM!BOOM!BOOM!BOOM!BOOM!

All the wounded, anyone who could stand on their own two feet rushed in behind Petra, Mela, and myself. They shoved themselves behind us in rows, arms slung around their colleague, tucking their heads down and digging their feet in, powering forward like rugby players in a scrum. Bracing up the shield wall. Trying to keep it strong and solid.

"What are we going to do?" Mela cried as we were heaved back.

The wall faltered.

My heart stuttered.

A terrible noise made my blood run cold. I glanced up, my eyes rounding as a deep fissure cracked a winding path through the magical barricade.

I watched in horror as the shield of magic ruptured, fracturing into spider webbing, like shattered glass on a windshield. The battering ram struck once more and the shield wall exploded inward—

Its force blasted right through our ranks, knocking us all from our feet. We scattered like bowling pins. The air-hardened shields unlocked and were flung wide.

I was sent flying backward—

My skull cracked upon rock. The bones in my shoulders and hips throbbed in agony.

I shook my head, my eyes watering as I got to my feet, swaying dizzily as the world seemed to swirl, the sounds of war and pain muted and distant, blurred and distorted. Searing pain burned across my skull and a trickle of blood dribbled down my forehead, over an eyebrow to splash upon a dirt-stained cheek.

The battering ram was dropped and the Children of the Harbinger charged.

We were bottlenecked in here and about to be slaughtered like netted fish.

Gods, this is the fucking end!

All of a sudden Jiao grabbed hold of me by the bandoleer and dragged me after him. "I need to get you out of here!"

I swiped at his hand, jerking myself free. "NO!"

Fuck no!

I stumbled over debris, heading for Yezekael. The lesser creature was on his ass, scrabbling back, wrestling with the handcuffs, trying to free himself from the chains.

In the surrounding chaos, the bellowing, the jostling of soldiers and hunters, and the unsheathing of weapons, I grabbed hold of Yezekael by the scruff of the neck, hauling him upright. With my free hand, I snatched hold of Jiao and ordered him, "Get Yezekael to my family!" And to the lesser creature I snarled, "And you tell my family everything you know!"

Shoving Yezekael at Jiao, I spun around. There were more orders to issue.

Petra had a sword drawn and was helping Mela to her feet.

"Petra!" I yelled. The older woman twisted her head toward me. "Get Mela out of here!" She tilted up her chin and placed a protective hand on Mela's upper arm.

"No way, Gray!" Mela protested, trying to shake free from Petra.

I ignored my friend, speaking to Jiao. "I'm going to draw them away. It's me they want. You and Petra need to get Mela and Yezekael out of here. Promise me that." Jiao hesitated. "Promise me!"

Jiao nodded, swallowing thickly.

I pointed at Mela. "And watch her back, she's the Văduva heir!"

Mela tore herself free from Petra, and barrelled into me, grasping my armored jacket with both hands. "No! I'm not leaving you. We're going out like we always said we would—on our feet with blades in our hands."

Grinning, I pulled her into a quick hug. "Fuck that. I'm not dying today!"

Stepping free of Mela, I hollered to Jiao and Petra. "Go now!" Spinning on my heel I surged forward. The warband and the Văduvas were charging ahead, ready to meet their deaths. Their rallying cries, the thunder of footfall, clamored loud in the din of the cavern.

I hurtled through the warband, whipping my swords out as I blasted ahead of everyone, smoky, hot air skimming my flesh, teasing my hair.

The Children of the Harbinger swung my way, arrowing toward me.

Silas stood on the outskirts of the battle, his sword drawn.

I was going to meet him head-on and decapitate the fucker.

Silas launched forward—

And vanished—

Reappearing a short distance away.

My boots pounded across the rocky cavern studded with rubble. Blood rushed in my ears. My heartbeat slowed and settled as razor-sharp focus fell upon me. I let that beast out, that feral thing inside me roaring and baying for blood, snapping its fangs like a territorial animal. I was a wild, wicked tempest, careering through the ranks of the enemy. Too quick to catch, too deadly to stop as I whirled my blades, slicing and dicing as I exploded past them in a streak of wrath.

Silas raced toward me in a chilling meet. He swung his sword in an eager arc, the reflection of amber flames dancing across the vicious blade.

And then the strangest thing happened.

A storm erupted from one of the tunnels. Impossible. Extraordinary. Beautiful. Silver clouds rolled through the gloomy cavern lit up with burning bodies. They hovered at the peak of the lofty chamber, their ethereal forms shifting and folding in on themselves.

I skidded to a halt, the soles of my combat boots jostling across loose stones, my momentum shunting them into a wide spray. I tipped my head back to stare upward, my chest heaving for breath.

Those silvery clouds, the harbingers of death, tore apart.

Metallic strands straight as arrows soared downward—

And stabbed—

Speared—

Whiplashed around warriors' arms and flung them against the cavern's walls—

Smashed them into rocky outcrops—

Kept driving them against unyielding stone, pounding them like they were mere dolls. Silver threads coiled around warriors so tightly that their bodies compressed beneath their might and exploded into clouds of dust.

Limbs were torn. Bodies were pummelled. Gunky black blood splattered wide. Ash erupted everywhere as if a gigantic hearth had been tipped from above. The remains of the Children of the Harbinger, teased by magic and winds, swept over us all in dirty, cloudy billows, coating us in a thick layer of ashy dust.

The gritty taste of them clogged up my mouth and chalked up my teeth.

As the dust settled, those warriors who were untouched stilled, and I watched them spin as one toward a point in the darkness beyond.

I turned to see what they were staring at.

And blinked in surprise.

Sirro.

The Children of the Harbinger disappeared quickly, swifting away. But there was one that remained. Silas, dusted in grimy remains, glared across the space at me. He leveled his sword and pointed it at me like he was marking me for death.

My boots slid across the rocky floor, kicking aside loose stones as I widened my stance. I rested the flat of my sword over my shoulder and marked him for death right back, stabbing my middle finger in the air, flipping the fucker off.

Silas vanished.

My shoulders shuddered with a hearty laugh that rumbled in my chest, tinged slightly with mania. I dragged a hand through my hair, brushing away the dust clinging to the locks, grinning maniacally. Gods, I never thought I'd ever be so glad to see Sirro.

The Horned God stormed toward us.

I stiffened. Sirro didn't look so good. He was hobbling slightly and his light and loose clothing was torn in several places. Thick layers of silvery might were wrapped up around his Familiar like a cocoon, protecting her I assumed from whatever he'd faced when he'd been gone from our sides. His hands and forearms were sticky with black blood as if he'd fought his way here with his bare hands.

Sirro kept up his angry march, the hurried pace ruffling dark hair that was sticking up every which way. He didn't speak to any of us as we parted hastily to allow him a path through our rambling ranks. Strands of dark power swirled around him like a ferocious storm. Amber eyes glowed fiercely and there was a crazed gleam glowing in their golden depth. His might whiplashed outward and punched Yezekael right in the chest, ripping him from Jiao's grip, and sending the otherworldly creature tumbling across the ground. Yezekael cried out in pain as he skidded, slowly coming to an ungainly halt. "I yield, Sirro!"

But Sirro's anger didn't diminish. Thin lips were pulled back from sharp, white teeth as he snarled viciously. Strands of magic snapped around Yezekael's chest and they lifted him back onto his claw-toed feet. "You tell me everything now! Who sold you the information!" There was a nasty cut on Sirro's cheek with bruises petaling out beneath his brown skin.

I was moving back, racing through the soldiers and hunters to come to a breathy standstill in front of Yezekael, who faced Sirro. Mela drew to my side quickly. I stared unblinking at Yezekael, desperate for the knowledge he was going to reveal. Sirro stepped closer. His jaw was locked so tight I thought it might snap. He looked furiously wild like he'd lost his fucking mind. His nostrils flared and an erratic muscle twitched beneath his eye. "WHO SOLD YOU THE INFORMATION?!"

Yezekael cowered, holding his hands before him as if he could ward off Sirro's wrath. His lips parted and he spoke. What he revealed meant nothing to me and something to Sirro. "She sought me out in the Hemmlok Forest."

I could see the astonishment swimming in the Horned God's gaze, the frown and the glassiness to his eyes, as his mind spiraled inward.

And then Nelle hit me.

She hit me hard. A cyclone of emotion exploded inside my chest like a supernova. The intensity was as loud as a waterfall crashing into a deep pool. As powerful and mind-shattering as if a grenade had detonated inside my head. The world around me darkened to an abyss of emptiness, vast and black and endless, and for a brief moment, I was blind.

All I could do was feel.

Her terror was a scream exploding inside my ears, hollowing out my mind, razoring down my spine, and chilling my flesh from the tips of my fingers to the ends of my toes. All the fine hair over my body stood on end. I couldn't feel anything of me, nothing remained. Not my essence, not a single part of my body.

All that remained was Nelle.

Fierce pride and callous arrogance. Furious rage and bleak sorrow. Bone-crushing terror. It all blended and rushed beneath my skin.

She needs me! Now!

Utter fright strangled my thoughts. It was an icy hand wrapped around my throat, squeezing so hard I couldn't breathe. The ground swayed beneath me as if I were no longer standing on solid ground. As if I were falling and gasping for breath. Dying.

No, no, no...fuck no!

Fiery need as wrathful as wyrmfire blasted through my veins. I needed to go to her. I needed to find whoever dared harm her. I was going to find them and end them by my own hand. I answered in an animalistic way, a low growl ripping from my throat, a deafening roar inside my head.

Everything happened at once.

I whipped my body around in the direction of where I felt Nelle calling to me, lowering my stance and pushing off on a booted foot. I took a step forward—

In the distant recesses of my mind, I was aware of Mela's voice, "Gray?" as she twisted around, taking a step toward me—

A whizzing sound—

The ghostly feel of rushing air washed up against my sweaty neck.

A startled inhale—

A THUD—

A shocked grunt—

The sound of a body crumpling and hitting the ground—

A second one.

But my mind was fixated on Nelle.

It was the ear-shattering scream of shock and outrage, exploding through the cavern, that pierced through my thoughts of Nelle and wrenched my attention from her to what was happening around me.

The bond between us kept pulling at me, tugging at me to find her...save her...

But the wrathful scream cleaving apart the murky dark lit with flames and smoke had me twisting back around.

Sirro's eyes almost seemed to bug out of his head. His cheeks were stained with blotchy-red rage and puffed with his quick, heaving breaths. Both fists shook with fury by his sides. Where his coppery skin was exposed, the flesh rippled as if some thing was trying to push its way out from inside. He was staring down at his feet, his gaze locked on a crumpled creature.

Yezekael.

A bolt was sticking out of his chest. Feathers had blown free and fluttered in the air around his corpse. His crescent-shaped eyes were glazed and unfocused in death.

Despair fell through me.

I was never going to find out who sold my mother's secret.

Strangely, where Yezekael had been hit in the chest, right in the heart, the wound was a mess of curling dead flesh with grotesque patches of pustules bubbling upward, spreading wide, their sickly purple color so dark they seemed black.

I took an unconscious step closer to the dead creature and tripped. I flung my arms outward to steady my balance. And my heart almost gave out altogether when I glanced downward, my mind faltering as I tried to make sense of it.

Mela had collapsed onto the ground, her hand clasping her neck, which had black veins spider-webbing outward. She shook uncontrollably, gasping for breath.

Oh gods, Mela...Mela!

Froth flecked with blood burbled in the corners of her mouth as she panted rapidly. She grunted and her body convulsed, spine bowing off the ground, teeth clamping shut. Her dark skin had dulled and taken on a lackluster hue.

Yezekael had been standing directly behind me. When I'd moved, Mela had stepped into the space where I'd been standing. There was no doubt in my mind that this bolt was intended for me. It had struck her as it shot past and hit Yezekael, both of them simply collateral in the desire to kill me.

"Gr-Gr-Gray?" Mela rasped, the air whistling from her lungs, terror shining in her bloodshot eyes.

My heart stumbled an awful beat when I realized what kind of crossbow bolt had been fired.

Oh gods, it was a gestelt bolt sticking out of Yezekael's chest.