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A creature, previously concealed within the darkness, now shimmered with otherworldly luminescence.

Undulating with sinuous grace, it slid towards the sleeping Bearkin. Moonlight danced upon its silvery scales.

A snake. Larger than anything I had ever seen.

Urgency surged through me. “Draven!”

My mate’s head instantly swung towards the water’s edge. Immediately, he extended his hands, weaving blades of shadows towards the serpentine form.

But the shadows bounced off the creature harmlessly, dissipating without effect. Born of shadows and darkness, the snake seemed impervious to Draven’s particular brand of magic.

As the serpent shimmering in the moonlight began to coil itself slowly around Hawl’s foot and slide up the Bearkin’s leg, Draven darted into action. His silhouette cut through the night as he grabbed the Bearkin under the arms and began dragging them away from the water’s edge.

I stared as if in a trance, frozen and indecisive.

“Morgan,” Draven shouted. “A little fire would be nice!”

Grimacing, I nodded. Raising my hands, I pointed a torrent of fire towards where the serpent’s body still lay coiled on the beach, and targeted its lower half.

The beast writhed and hissed as the scorching flames licked at its scales. Letting out a haunting, horrific sound, it pulled itself off Hawl and tried to slither back towards the water, but it was too late. Unable to withstand the searing heat, the serpent’s spectral scales melted and unraveled. The air filled with the sounds of melting flesh and a sickly hissing.

A yelp from Lancelet drew my attention, and I whirled to see her being yanked to the ground by an invisible foe.

The moon had retreated once more behind a cloud.

The serpent that had Lancelet in its grip blended seamlessly with the inky night. I couldn’t make out anything. Lancelet had pulled her sword and was swinging all around herself, striking out at the ground again and again, but it was futile. The snake attacking her pulled her across the camp, raking her over the rocks and down towards the edge of the lake.

I let out a cry of fury and raced towards her, just as the fickle moon emerged from behind its concealing clouds, casting silvery radiance over the scene. In the newfound light, I could see two serpents had coiled around Lancelet’s legs and were dragging her down to the water.

Lifting my hands, I directed fiery tendrils at the serpents. Flames erupted, illuminating the camp and consuming the creatures at the far end of their long bodies. As the snakes hissed in agony and were incinerated, I tugged Lancelet to her feet as the coils binding her were released. She stumbled backwards with me, sword still gripped in her hand.

On the other side of the camp, Draven had dropped Hawl down beside Guinevere and was shouting something at us, pointing back to the lake.

More ripples were forming on the surface of the water. I counted to five, then ten, then began to lose track.

“No, no,” Lancelet moaned. “This is not good. This is not good timing, Morgan. We could really use Hawl right about now.”

I gritted my teeth but said nothing, already feeling as if I were suffocating with self-blame. How could I have been so stupid?

Then—a glimmer of moonlight shot across the camp. I followed it as the beam of light meandered upwards over the cliffside of the Black Mountain, up the stone stairs and to the top of the platform we had been standing on together only hours before.

Lancelet followed my gaze. “Holy shit.”

There, at the top of the platform, illuminated with moonlight, a doorway glowed, etched with blue and silver lines.

We looked at one another.

“You have to go,” she said slowly.

A scream cut across the air. We whirled towards the cluster of horses tethered further down the beach near the water’s edge.

Serpents had emerged and wrapped themselves around two of the horses legs. They had already brought one down and were dragging the poor creature into the water.

“Fuck,” Lancelet exclaimed and began racing towards the horses, her sword gripped tightly in her hand.

I looked up at the doorway outlined on the cliffside, filled with panic. This was my chance, and I was missing it. Could we afford to wait another night?

I looked at Lancelet running down the beach, then back at Draven who stood protecting Hawl and Guinevere with a dagger in each hand.