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A blaring array of lights burst from the upstairs window, and she knew where his portal was taking him as he stepped through.

It closed behind him a breath later, swallowing him whole.

Ears screaming,Alora stood at the bottom of a burned-up staircase inside the front door, staring directly up into the face of a true demon—Kaine.

He waited. Fists balled and face taunting her from above.

Her legs viciously shook, unable to take the first step, preferring the deafening sounds over what she was fearing to do. How long had she been standing there, eyes fighting back tears as she looked up into the dark staircase? As she looked at Kaine, who she knew wasn’t truly there. She’d never stepped a foot on it. It wasn’t marble. It had no emerald rugs. The walls weren’t decorative spindles connected to redwood handrails.

Yet she couldn’t move.

Not until she heard Garrik’s raging, guttural scream.

He was fighting something. And by the pain carrying in his voice, it was winning.

Then Thalon yelled, his voice as throat-ripping and pained as the High Prince’s. Bursts of light exploded into the hallway. Flashes of light like those in Thalon’s portals struck across the walls as small amounts of Smokeshadows exploded along with them, misting around Kaine’s illusion and down the first few steps of the staircase before they retreated on tethered fury.

They could be dying. Right there. And she was cowering over a burned wooden step. Cowering over a damn memory.

Garrik cried out again, voice a thunderous roar, like his lungs had pushed past their capacity just to allow it to tear from him.

She had to move.

The staircase—Kaine—bedamned.

Shaking legs refused to take an inch, but she forced them. One. Two. Three steps. Then five. Her legs burned and mind replayed memories of bloodstained steps. Seven steps. The sound. The memories. It was enough that she could collapse.

But she couldn’t. Not when Thalon’s voice cracked in pain.

Not when Garrik’s screams had stopped.

Racing against her raging heartbeat and the sounds of her friends dying, her boots slammed through Kaine’s illusion before her guts decided to empty. But she didn’t dare look up for fear Kaine was still there. She had to keep moving.She had to.

Alora shakingly stepped onto the final step, gripping the crumbling threshold, unable to steady her panicked breath. Blood dripped from her ears, yet she couldn’t feel it. In the bedroom across the hallway, half burned with the far wall and ceiling scorched out, Smokeshadows—in half their usual force—raged in a swirling funnel as portals flared, striking lightning into the winds.

Garrik was down on a knee, steadying himself against the blaring sound. With one hand outstretched to Thalon, the other shook in front of him as darkness exploded from his palm. His own trail of blood poured from his ears. He was going down, slowly, as if what was left of his spent powers could do nothing to whoever—whatever—was caged inside Smokeshadows.

Alora tried to scream, feeling her throat vibrate, knowing the sound should be carrying, but she couldn’t hear it anymore.

Then she saw the shift in blackened eyes. Saw as Garrik noticed her standing at the threshold. Noticed Thalon slamming his hands to his own chest mouthing, ‘take it from me,’ with a shake of his head.

Garrik’s face tightened, glaring at Thalon before he dropped his hand, exploding with darkness, and shoved a palm out to her.

The pulse of energy slammed into her. The ear-piercing sound diminished by half within a heartbeat. But when she returned her gaze to Garrik, he’d fallen to both knees, struggling to keep his arms pointed at them. Protecting them with his shield.

Get out of here!Garrik’s voice rippled in agony.

Alora panicked.What do I do? What do I do?She scanned her hands that had burst with white embers.How the hell can fire do anything to sound?

Garrik dropped to his hands and gnashed his teeth together, fighting off a painful scream.Alora, go!Glowing silver eyes speared her where she stood and didn’t move. Locked onto hers, viciously fighting to stay open. He breathed deep as if it could be his last breath.

He breathed deep.

Breathed … deep.

Air. Sound needs air to carry! And fire … oh, Maker of the Skies, if you allow this to work …

Alora’s hands burst into white flames.