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With bleak looks upon their faces, Baptiste and Benchley slipped past Amaliya into the hallway where the others stood clustered. Cian glanced at Amaliya and she deliberately leaned against the cell wall, obviously refusing to budge. Acquiescing to her wishes, Cian shut the door. Without any fanfare, Cian leaned over, jerked the dagger out of Etzli, and stood back.

Etzli immediately began to laugh.

This wasn’t what Amaliya expected.

Cian folded his arms, staring down at Etzli. He didn’t speak, but waited.

“You make it all so easy,” Etzli said at last.

“Cian,” Amaliya whispered.

Etzli spoke in a posh accent that was distinctly not her own.

The woman chained to the floor opened her mouth and darkness bellowed out in a thick cloud. It struck Amaliya and Cian like a mighty fist. With a painful whack, Amaliya’s head impacted with the wall. Black magic filled the room completely, drowning out all light, sound, and sensation. The oily miasma writhed over her skin attempting to slide into her mouth. Stunned, Amaliya clamped her lips together. The Summoner’s presence dwelled in the blackness. Or maybe he was the essence of it.

“You disappoint me,” The Summoner’s voice whispered in her ear.

Struggling to shove herself off the wall to confront him, Amaliya concentrated on drawing upon her own magic to protect her. It was a mistake. The Summoner had created her and his magic had birthed hers. Instantly, her power was wound around his, drawing her deeper under his spell. The darkness enshrouding her obliterated every sensation except for his fingers lightly stroking her throat. Even the wall she was pinned against sifted away until she was left with the impression of floating in deep, dark, frigid water. She was trapped in the heart of the absolute evil, feeling weightless, empty, and afraid.

“Again, you disappoint me. How easily you stumble into my traps.”

Deep within the gloom was another presence. It wasn’t Cian or Etzli. They were lost to her in the ocean of the necromancer’s magic. It was the other one. The blood sister she had failed to rescue. Now they were both trapped in the majestic deathly power of The Summoner.

“Bianca,” Amaliya uttered.

The spell slithered across her lips, seeking entry. She clamped her mouth shut, fearful of what may happen should the magic manage to infect her.

“She’s here with us. My little necromancers are united at last.”

Amaliya sensed movement within the murk and lashed out, trying to capture The Summoner in her grip. She didn’t know how to fight him, but she had to try. The sensation of being adrift in the deepest waters of the ocean continued, her arms and legs flailing as she tried to find purchase. Soft, cold fingers gripped her hand. They were slim and delicate.

Bianca, Amaliya thought.

“I’m sorry,” Bianca said from the black stillness.

The low, terrifying voice of The Summoner spoke in Amaliya’s ear. “We are all three together once again. It’s been so long since the night I killed both of you.”

A small, delicate female body mostly made of darkness and cold drifted into Amaliya’s embrace. At first she feared it was Etzli, but realized it was Bianca when the tendrils of powers instantly wove together, uniting them. Feeling more like a shadow than flesh and bone, Bianca clung to Amaliya. Tears welling in her eyes, Amaliya clutched the other necromancer to her quaking body. Fear ravaged her thoughts.

“Submit to me and I won’t kill those you love,” The Summoner’s voice murmured, the timber of his voice rushing over her flesh like icy prick of a needles.

In a panic and desperate to escape, Amaliya unfurled her power, the dark wings of her magic reached out to find those who loved her and grounded her. Instead, she found the welcoming power of her creator and her sister in blood.

The Summoner’s long body pressed against her back. Though she knew it wasn’t possible, she could feel the hardness of his chest. Amaliya had destroyed him with her zombies. She had seen the horde tear him apart. Yet, here he was, tangible and terrible.

When The Summoner wrapped his arms around both of them, Amaliya shivered. There was completion in his touch. It was impossible to deny they were a triad of immense power. Amaliya felt it to her marrow and it terrified her. Cian, Austin, the house, and all her friends felt like wispy dreams of another life. The darkness felt eerily like home.

“Submit to m

e and I will spare all those you love. Name them and they will survive when the abyss swallows the world.”

“You’re lying,” Amaliya hissed. The spell again attempted to plunge into her mouth, but she managed to spit it out. There were still parts of her magic that were not intertwined with The Summoner’s.

“He’s lying,” Bianca’s voice said at the same time.

“No, no. I’m not,” The Summoner answered. “I am willing to allow your family and friends to live if you will willingly come to my side. Submit to me. Be mine. We will rule the new world together. In exchange, I will grant your loved ones immunity.”

“They’ll try to kill you,” Amaliya responded to the darkness.