Page 37

Drayveth points his staff at me, voice like ice. “This is your last chance, Sariah. Separate from the gargoyle—kill him if necessary. Prove your loyalty.”

I meet his gaze, tears welling anew, voice cracking. “You’re asking me to murder the only ally who’s ever believed in me without trying to control me. The one who’s fought for me against Nerezza’s nightmares. I can’t… I can’t do that.”

His eyes harden. “Then you are truly lost. The coven cannot abide a rogue purna with your potential. By the authority of the High Circle, I name you Nyxari. Your life is forfeit.”

A sob shudders from my chest. He raises his staff, energy coalescing into a lethal swirl.

The purna beside him follow suit, forming a volley of crackling spells ready to reduce Kaelith and me to ash.

My grip on my staff trembles. I can’t hold off so many.

Even with Kaelith’s synergy, we’re battered, exhausted, pinned on a ledge with nowhere else to go.

I glance at Kaelith, tears streaming down my face.

He meets my gaze, claws flexing, jaw set with unwavering determination.

“I won’t let them harm you,” he growls, low enough only I hear.

The tether resonates with a fierce protectiveness that breaks my heart.

We’re in this together, to the bitter end.

Drayveth’s expression is blank, as though he’s steeled himself for an unpleasant duty. “May the Source show you mercy, child,” he intones, staff rising. His allies do the same, spells glimmering with finality.

My mind spins. Is there no other way? If I hurl an explosive wave, I might bring the cliff down on us all. The brand burns like fire, begging for release. If I tap that power fully… I might kill them or kill us all… or become the monster they claim I am.

The tension builds, a heartbeat away from carnage.

Then, from somewhere above, a thunderous roar echoes—no, not thunder.

A new presence. Everyone jerks their heads upward, including Drayveth.

My pulse flutters, confusion mingling with dread.

The sky overhead darkens. A massive shape swoops into view, wings outstretched, fanning dust and gravel across the ledge.

A gargoyle. But… twisted? Nerezza’s brood?

Panicked shouts fill the air as the newcomers dive, unleashing arcs of greenish-black fire upon Drayveth’s formation.

Screams erupt. My brand pulses, alarm spiking.

Kaelith curses, yanking me back against the cliff as shards of rock and magical flame rain down.

Drayveth’s purna scatter, their assault on us forgotten in the face of this new threat.

One of the twisted gargoyles—skin a mottled gray with black veining—snarls, claws raking at the nearest purna.

The poor soul tries to raise a shield but is slammed aside.

More monstrous shapes swirl overhead, at least three or four, each one enormous and menacing, eyes glowing a sickly yellow.

My chest constricts. Nerezza’s brood has found us.

“This is bad,” Kaelith mutters, scanning the chaos. Drayveth’s contingent fights back, hurling necromantic blasts that scorch the stone. But the twisted gargoyles are relentless, diving in to rend flesh. Their screeches reverberate, sending a chill down my spine.

In that instant, the ultimatum Drayveth gave me dissolves into utter anarchy.

We’re all pinned on a precarious ledge with monstrous gargoyles overhead.

Rocks crumble under the onslaught, dust choking the air.

Drayveth tries to rally his purna, shouting commands, staff blazing as he flings lethal bursts of greenish flame at one of the brood.

But the creature shrugs it off with terrifying ease, screeching in defiance.

Kaelith tugs my arm. “We have to get off this ledge,” he hisses. “They’ll bring it down.” Already, cracks run through the cliff face, pebbles tumbling into the abyss below.

I hesitate, scanning for Drayveth. He’s pinned behind a boulder, two of his allies covering him while the brood circles for another pass.

Part of me hates him for what he’s done, but another part still clings to the memory of the mentor who once protected me.

My heart twists. I can’t leave him to die like this.

Kaelith sees my turmoil. “He tried to kill you,” he says, voice taut. “Do you really want to risk your life for him?”

Tears line my eyes, but I set my jaw. “He’s still… my family, in a twisted way. I can’t just watch him get torn apart.” Guilt wracks me. Is this foolish compassion, or the last shred of humanity?

The ledge shudders again as one of the twisted gargoyles lands with a thunderous impact, blocking the path we came from. Its sinewy wings fold, claws skittering on rock. It roars, drooling black saliva. My stomach lurches. This is no normal gargoyle.

“All right,” Kaelith grinds out, “but we do this fast. If Drayveth tries to kill us again, I won’t hold back.”

I nod, heart pounding. Together, we lunge forward, weaving between the scattered purna. One tries to strike Kaelith with a reflexive spell, but I deflect it, shouting, “We’re helping you!” The purna gapes at me, confused, but doesn’t attack again.

We reach Drayveth, who crouches behind a boulder, face streaked with dust and raw fear. He looks up, expression slack with shock to see me rushing to him. “Sariah?” he gasps, eyes flicking to Kaelith. “Why would you?—”

A screech overhead interrupts. One of the brood dives, claws extended. Kaelith roars, meeting the attack with an upward slash of kinetic energy, sending the beast spiraling off course. I seize Drayveth’s arm, helping him to his feet. “We need to get off this ledge. Now.”

He’s trembling, staff shaking in his grip. “You… you’re not killing me?” His voice cracks.

I glare at him. “You might be a bastard, but I’m not a murderer.” Even as I say it, part of me rages at how close he came to slaughtering Kaelith. But the ledge quakes under another blow, dust swirling in my throat. No time for righteous fury.

One of Drayveth’s subordinates is pinned by a twisted gargoyle, shrieking as the beast’s claws dig into flesh.

Before I can react, Drayveth hurls a necromantic blast that tears the creature away, freeing the pinned purna.

“Fall back!” Drayveth orders, voice scraping with panic. “We can’t hold them on this terrain.”

Shouts ring out, confusion mounting. Some purna attempt to retreat, but the brood overhead cuts off the escape. Another chunk of the ledge crumbles, falling into the chasm. Pebbles bounce around my boots. My brand pulses with alarm.

Kaelith hisses, wings partially extending as he surveys the sky. “We might have to fight our way through them. Or risk the cliff’s other side. I see a narrow path that might lead down.”

I follow his gaze, spotting a precarious route snaking along the cliff face. One misstep and we’d plummet. But staying here means certain doom. “Let’s do it,” I say, swallowing my terror. My voice shakes but I push forward. “Drayveth, come with us if you want to live.”

He hesitates, still reeling from the fact I’m offering him any aid at all. But another gargoyle swoops in, forcing the purna to scatter. Drayveth clenches his jaw. “Fine,” he spits. “We regroup on stable ground.”

Chaos reigns as we dash across the trembling ledge.

Kaelith stays close, deflecting stray attacks from the brood with pulses of his stone-laced magic.

Drayveth does the same on the other side, staff blazing.

I’m caught in the middle, flinging a ward or two to keep necromantic flames from crossing.

The other purna scramble behind us. I can’t even see how many remain alive.

Screams echo, overshadowed by the brood’s shrieks. My heart feels like it might burst.

We reach the narrow path Kaelith spotted.

It clings to the cliff face in a hairpin turn.

Without hesitation, Kaelith steps onto it, his wings pressed tight to navigate the cramped space.

I follow, gulping at the sheer drop below.

Drayveth and two of his subordinates come after us.

Another purna lags behind, pinned by debris.

She screams for help, but we can’t turn back.

It kills me to ignore her cry, but the brood descends again, ripping the ledge apart. We have no choice. Tears burn my eyes.

The path slopes downward, each step precarious. Drayveth’s allies cling to the rock, panting. A savage wind tears at us, kicked up by the gargoyles’ wings overhead. Dust and small stones rain down. My brand throbs, every nerve fraying. We’re alive—for now. But the price is horrifying.

At last, after a tense scramble, we descend to a marginally wider plateau.

The brood above is busy ripping apart the ledge, turning its wrath on whatever remains of Drayveth’s forces.

Screams echo, then fade. My stomach twists.

We’re cornered still, but the twisted gargoyles might not see us hidden by the cliff overhang. Our group huddles, gasping for air.

Kaelith sets me down gently (I hadn’t even realized he was half-supporting me). My shoulder throbs, bruises sting, everything spins. Drayveth collapses to his knees, staff clattering. The two purna with him are wide-eyed, trembling. Silence wraps around us, broken by the distant roars above.

For a long moment, nobody speaks. Then Drayveth lifts his head, eyes pinned on me. Fury and confusion swirl there. “Why?” he croaks. “Why help me after I… after I demanded you kill your gargoyle?”

My voice trembles. “Because no matter what you did, I can’t stand by and watch you get torn apart by Nerezza’s brood. We have bigger foes to worry about.”

He exhales a shaky breath. “You remain naive as ever, Sariah.” But there’s a quiver in his voice that suggests relief. “They truly are her spawn,” he mutters, shuddering. “I’ve never seen such monstrous gargoyles.”