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More skeletal shapes rise from the dirt like creepy radishes.

The temperature drops.

“Forward.” I tug Remy’s hand to keep his focus. “Keep shielding.”

With draugr on our asses, we need Remy blocking the twisted, black lightning bolts. Tan and I can handle the skeletons.

We thwack them as we run.

They’re not that strong, but they’re never-ending.

We fight through the maze of tunnels, step by step. Simms opens shortcuts through rock and blocks the path where he can, but there are too many nooks and crannies, and too many of the undead can move through the earth.

Whenever there’s a break, I dart to Vhex or Remy, stroking skin, rubbing a horn—anything to keep their power flowing strong.

My breath goes ragged.

At the rate their magic corrupts down here, I’m going to be the weak link.

Any time I even think about stopping to recover, another wave of undead blocks our path.

Forward is the only way out.

“Terrain shift ahead,” Simms warns, his voice strained as he walls off the ghouls on our tail. “Feels like a hallway.”

“Must be the prison.”

The lich’s power weighs me down in a coat of frozen lead.

We’re almost there.

Running on bloodlust and murderous glee, Vhex rockets through a row of ghouls and smashes through a crumbling doorway.

“Be careful,” I mutter, a beat too slowly.

As I clamber over the rubble, Remy slips past, reinforcing the shadow shield that hasn’t left my body for a second.

We stumble into the broke-down version of the prison complex I saw in his memories.

The cells where Azrid Supreme buried Faervaine’s shame lie blown-open, long abandoned. The air hangs dusty and thick, and my breath fogs from the chill.

Simms walls off the door behind us. With no enemies in sight, we’re left with the sound of our heavy breathing and distant, muffled wails.

“Vhex,” I call him back before he strays.

“Wife.” Vhex snaps back to my side, more eager to be near me than to chase his ghouls. In a blink, his arms wrap my waist. I don’t fight as he drags my back against his bare chest.

His warmth shakes off the chill that keeps creeping under my skin.

I rub his arms and smooth his silks.

Remy glides into the huddle. I can’t cup his jaw when he’s wearing his mask. Instead, I grip the back of his neck, digging into his hair. The color bleeds between black and silver as he flirts the edge of his transformation. The strands between my fingers return to their purest black.

“You’re tiring yourself,” Remy murmurs through the leather.

“I’m fine.” I unknot his tangles while I play with his hair.

I am tired.

Exhausted, even.

But pouring myself into them, feeling their souls respond, the last thing I want to do is rest.

I’ll rest when we’re done with the undead.

Already moving, I dig recovery potions from my pack to pass around. I plug my nose to knock back a vial.

The liquid tastes like peppermint dish soap, but it perks me up and puts a tingle in my toes.

In the silence of a tomb, we slink ahead. The lich’s energy sharpens, gnawing a chill into my bones.

I peek into the crumbled cells on either side of the hall, but only rubble lies inside. There’s no sign of the chains or the undead they once bound.

The lich king must’ve snacked through its followers to survive centuries of captivity.

Vhex and Remy stick close. Their heightened tension vibrates in my soul. With the toxic mist licking at our feet, I don’t want them out of reach.

I can feel the monster watching.

“It’s screwing with us,” Tan mutters.

I nod, not wanting to disturb the thick silence.

With every step, an attack feels imminent. But the attack never comes, leaving us taut with no release.

I smooth out Vhex’s irritated growl.

We pass more empty, crumbling cells, then enter the storage corridors, where ancient urns are shelved in endless rows.

So much for having Vhex burn them all.

Every vessel lies in shards. I stir a broken urn with the tip of my glaive, but there’s no residue left, only dust. “The lich king must’ve devoured it all.”

His servants must’ve been laying the groundwork for his escape for years before I stumbled onto his prison seal.

“Do we push ahead?” Tan asks. His glance starts on Simms and ends on me.

“Yeah.” I hate the ancients for leaving us this mess. “Something’s still binding the lich. This is the weakest he’ll ever be.”

Even knowing what’s ahead, my gut screaming to turn around and escape the crushing, evil aura, I stubbornly put one boot in front of the other.

The air stirs.

The breeze carries nothing but decay.

Feeling the tension, the Sentinels shift. They compress until Tan and I walk side-to-side, surrounded in a tight, protective triangle.

From Remy’s blurry memory, I recognize the archway ahead. It connects to the deepest part of the prison, where the lich king was sealed into his pit.

I grip my glaive pole.

My hands shake.

Vhex and Remy’s senses warn of the crushing power ahead. I catch whispers, the clink of armor, and a riot of scents from decomposing fur to scales and blood.

Hundreds of monsters.

Vhex goes feral, sprouting claws. Remy empties of everything but murderous determination.

Dizzy between both extremes, I gape.

It’s wall-to-wall undead.

Ghouls. Draugr. Dreadnoughts.

Kobolds and death knights.

Zombies and skeletons of all sizes and species, from orcs and boars to rats weaving between the ankles of other monsters.

The space could fit Lomfort town.

There’s no ceiling. The open shaft must reach to the sky, but we’re too deep underground for the light to reach.

Plenty of space for the skyscraper trolls looming around the edges.

Apocalypse-level power pulses from the middle of the horde.

My ears pop.

I almost lose my grip on my pole.

Holy stars.

Shadows curl under my uniform, both skin-tight armor and caress. Remy’s energy coils, tight and cold.

Vhex gives off steam.

“Steady,” I whisper and move between them. I press my shoulders to their arms and calm their silks.

Ready or not, it’s time.

I turn to Simms. “Collapse the shaft if we can’t win.”

He pulls Tan close. They share a deep gaze and a fast kiss.

Finally, Simms pushes out a determined breath. Earth magic glows, ready in his palms. He nods. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Ready?” I ask the men at my side.

Pink flames flare across Vhex’s skin. Remy’s eyes blacken, and his shadows unfurl around his wings.

I do one last, thorough, horn-to-toe comb through their silks.

Softly.

Deeply.

Lingering.

Their souls lean into mine. Their adrenaline buzzes, but underneath simmers a heart-clenching desire.

To conquer. To slay.

To protect.

Same here.

I give them a nudge and lift my glaive. “Kill the lich.”