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UNITY

ELYRIA

“A labyrinth?” Zephyr was back on her tiptoes, trying to look through the icy window once more.

“Will ye all stop repeating one another?” Thraigg said with a grunt. “Yer echoes are bound to drive me insane.”

Sunlight glinted off Nox’s horns. “The real challenge is in there, then. We’re merely at the starting line.”

“And who knows what is held within,” added Cedric.

“Well, we know one thing,” said Leona, drawing her shoulders back.

Elyria caught Kit’s eye and tried not to groan. “And that would be...?”

“There’s always a prize at the center of a labyrinth.”

“Oh, there always is, is there?” Kit said. “Says who?”

Leona’s eyes narrowed. “I—” She cleared her throat. “It is simply known.”

“Do you have any idea how daft that sounds?”

Belien stepped in front of Leona as if to shield her from Kit’s sarcasm. “Do you have any idea how stupid you sound? What if it’s the crown in there?”

“Precisely.” Leona dipped her chin at him in thanks. “Which is why we need to get in.”

“I tried,” Elyria said. “You saw me try.”

“Clearly, you didn’t try hard enough.”

“How about you give it a go then, Blackwood?” Kit spat.

“Gladly.” Leona stepped forward, her hand clutched around the token hanging from a chain around her neck. Her lips moving with some silent spell, she raised a hand and pointed at the wall of roots as if she might scold it into movement.

Nothing happened.

“Belien!” Leona hissed. The sorcerer scrambled into position next to her, mimicking her movements, the two of them working together to try and break through the wall.

Still, nothing happened.

Kit snorted.

Cyren released a loud laugh. “Very impressive.”

Leona huffed, the cold expression typically adorning her face still in place as she turned back to Belien. But Elyria saw the way the tips of her ears turned pink.

Cedric went next, hacking at the wall with his sword as if he hadn’t already determined the roots were too thick to cut through.

Panting, he scratched the back of his head. “This might take a while.”

And so, they tried.

Time and time again, they tried. Thraigg joined Cedric in attempting to hack their way through with blunt force, but every time they made it through a layer, more vines would instantly replace the ones they cut. Gael set the entire wall ablaze, only to have it snuff out as if the roots absorbed the flames. There wasn’t even a single scorch mark left behind.

Zephyr attempted to climb over at one point, her nimble feet scaling the wall with impressive speed. But like snakes, the roots shifted and slid over themselves, making it impossible for her to grab hold, and she found herself on the tail end of Cyren’s stormbending magic more than once as he kept her from plummeting to the ground.

No matter which champion tried what method, nothing worked. It was as if the labyrinth was fighting them.

No, refusing them.

Arguments rose as patience wore thin. The sun began to dip low in the sky.

Nox’s voice cut through the din of complaints as the nocterrian sidled up to Elyria where she now sat in the grass. “Why don’t you use your shadows?”

“Excuse me?”

“We all saw what you can do. You’re a nightwielder. A powerful one. I myself have just enough control to shadowstep, to hide myself amongst them when the need arises. But to manipulate them the way you did when you...” Their gaze flitted to Belien and back. “Your shadows are strong. You can create constructs. Why don’t you try them on the wall?”

Elyria didn’t know how to answer. Didn’t feel like going into how she’d spent the entirety of yesterday trying to figure out how she managed to do what she did to Belien. Didn’t feel like admitting she’d failed.

She had been able to separate her wild magic from her shadow. But all her attempts to recreate that solid dark tendril had gone up in smoke.

It didn’t matter how much she pulled or begged or cajoled. It was as if her darkness simply went back to sleep. She had barely been able to coax out more than a wisp of shadow. And while she didn’t love the idea of the nocterrian knowing this, what she really wanted to avoid was Belien and Leona overhearing. Nothing good would come from the humans learning about this weakness of hers.

Elyria might have accepted her inner darkness. But here, outside of the Trial of Spirit and the illusion she had lived through, she still had no fucking clue how to control it .

Thankfully, she didn’t have to come up with an excuse for Nox, because Kit approached at that same moment.

“Will you try again, Elle?” Kit tried to keep her voice bright, but Elyria could hear the undercurrent of dejection. Kit had tried several times to carve into the wall with her magic, freezing the vines, trying to embrittle them so Thraigg could smash them. Each time, his hammer had bounced back as if the wall was made of rubber.

Nox surveyed Elyria with interest in the wake of Kit’s question.

“I can try.” Elyria hated the uncertainty in her voice as she got to her feet. “But I don’t think I’m strong enough on my own,” she said—a deflection, but not necessarily a lie. Even if she could reliably call on her shadows, she didn’t think she could do this by herself. There was ancient magic preventing her from wielding the roots, locking her out.

As if it needed a key.

Elyria stopped mid-step. A kind of calmness washed over her. Clarity.

“Remember: unity is the key.”

The Arbiter’s voice rang through Elyria’s head, their words echoing like a chorus. The realization came to her so clearly, she felt like an idiot for not understanding sooner.

“That’s it,” she said, awe filling her voice as she neared the wall.

“What’s it?” Kit asked.

“Unity.”

Belien groaned. “Not this shit again.”

Elyria shot him a silencing look. “I don’t think I’m meant to be able to get through on my own. None of us are. The Arbiter’s been shoving the idea that we all need to work together down our throats this entire time. What for, if not to ensure we thought to actually, you know, do so when the need arose?”

“What are you saying, exactly?” Gael asked.

“‘Unity is the key.’ That’s what the Arbiter said. If we want to unlock this trial, I think we need to work together—truly together.”

“And how exactly do you propose we do that?” Cedric’s baritone unexpectedly soared into Elyria’s ear as he came up next to her. She suppressed a shiver.

Swallowing hard, Elyria took in the looks on her fellow champions’ faces—hopeful, eager, wary...except for the two wearing matching expressions of irritation. “It’s the Trial of Magic,” she said evenly. “I need you all to lend me your power.”

Silence stretched between the nine of them, so taut Elyria could have snapped it in half.

Then Leona laughed—a mirthless sound.

“You’re dreaming, pixie,” said Belien. “Over my dead body.”

“Your reaction shocks me,” Gael deadpanned.

“Ignore them,” said Kit. “You have my magic, Ellie.”

“And mine,” said Cyren and Gael together.

Thraigg grunted. “Aye.”

“Whatever I can give,” added Zephyr meekly.

“Yes,” said Nox.

Then, as if they’d purposefully synchronized it, each champion turned toward Cedric in one fluid movement.

Elyria noted the tick in his jaw, as if even contemplating this—loaning her his magic—was causing him physical pain. She tried to see it from his perspective. Even after his informal alliances with Zephyr and Thraigg, and his begrudging truce with Elyria, the idea of merging magic was something else entirely. It opened him up to a new kind of vulnerability.

Golden brown eyes met Elyria’s. Please , she thought. Trust me.

Several tense seconds passed, and then he nodded.

Something throbbed in her chest.

Leona sucked in a breath through clenched teeth, as if horrified that her fellow human would agree to this.

“Do you know what to do?” Cedric asked.

Elyria nodded, a memory of Evander overtaking her for a split second—his golden eyes crinkling as a wry smile appeared on his handsome face. The way he confidently sliced open his palm, soothing her worries, assuring her that this is what soulmates did. How sharing their magic would prove that they belonged to each other.

She blinked the image away. “We have to”—she drew her dagger from her hip—“merge our blood.”

Cedric’s eyes widened as she took the pointed tip and dug it into her left palm. “Blood magic? ”

Blood pooled in Elyria’s hand as she held it out. “Not the kind you’re thinking of. It’s not sanguinagi magic. There’s absolutely nothing nefarious about this, I assure you.”

“You’re sure?”

Elyria nodded. “I’ve done it before.” She flicked her eyes to Kit, then back to the knight. “Trust me.”

The seven champions fanned out in a crescent before her, the wall of root and thorn at her back.

Kit took the dagger and sliced the tip of her finger. She let a few drops fall into Elyria’s palm.

Nox went next, their maroon blood tinting the mixture a darker shade. Then Zephyr and Thraigg, her droplets of green blood swallowed up by a rivulet of his, red and bright.

Cyren and Gael added a few drops each.

Finally, it was Cedric’s turn. He eyed Elyria’s bleeding palm dubiously.

“I only need a drop or two,” she said. “It won’t take much.”

“You don’t—” His throat bobbed, his gaze darting between the other champions with nervous energy. “You don’t actually need me, right? We wield magic through our tokens, it’s not in our blood. There’s nothing to merge.”

“There is magic in everything,” Nox said.

“And what kind of unity would this be without you, knightling?” Kit added with a grin. She looked at Leona, who sniffed and took a few steps back. The grin fell. “Last chance,” Kit offered.

“No fucking way,” Leona spat.

Cedric sighed as he sliced the tip of his finger, blood trailing down his knuckle until it dropped into Elyria’s open palm.

As if Elyria’s own blood understood that this was the final contribution, it started to swirl in her palm, shimmery and glistening. Then, so quickly she would have missed it if she blinked, it was gone—sucked back into her, merging with her bloodstream, not even the puncture wound on her hand left behind.

Elyria beheld her hand, the magic thrumming in her veins. The swell of untapped power that swept through her was unlike anything she’d felt before. It sang in her blood, lighting her nerves .

Something tugged at Elyria, right in the center of her chest. She raised her eyes to look at the champions surrounding her. They stared at her in awe, a luminous web weaving around them, binding them together. To her.

And amidst those shimmering threads of light, one glowed golden.

“Is it working?” Cedric asked, something like astonishment in his voice.

“Yes,” she breathed, stunned by the power washing over them.

“There’s just one more step, right?” Kit said, prompting the words that were stuck in the back of Elyria’s throat.

“Right. Yes. You all need to wield your magic—together.” Elyria took a deep breath and raised her other hand. “Call it. Cast it. Now.”

They didn’t hesitate.

Kit raised a hand, water swirling, darting between her knuckles.

Periwinkle hair whipped around Elyria’s face as Cyren’s wind freed several strands from her braid.

Shadows bloomed at Nox’s feet.

Healing light poured from Zephyr’s fingers.

Heat warmed Elyria’s skin as Gael kindled a flame in her hand.

Thraigg grunted as he plucked a rock from the ground and gripped it tightly in his gloved hand. Elyria found herself momentarily captivated as the rock crumbled into dust, leaving a brilliant gemstone in the center of the dwarf’s palm.

And then Cedric wrapped his hand around his mana token, and Elyria lit up.

Like a birthing star, fiery and bright, she felt it all. Each thread of their magic, flame and wild and water and wind mixing in her veins, in her breath, in her very being. Her inner shadow woke and joined the tapestry of magic swimming within her. She had never felt so powerful, never felt so alive.

So complete.

Elyria spun to face the wall and this time she didn’t even need to reach out and pull on those threads of wild magic within. With little more than the flex of her hand, the ice melted from the window that had taken so much effort to create. The frozen barrier dissolved, revealing the tangled vines beneath. Vines that no longer resisted, no longer fought her.

The opening widened, thorny tendrils moving with ease. As if sighing with relief, the roots unwound, untangled. They bent to Elyria’s will with barely more than a thought.

Within moments, a wide, arched doorway stood in front of the group.

And as quickly as the glorious mélange of magic had come on, that thrumming power in Elyria’s veins decreased, dampened, softened...until it was gone.

She stepped back, dabbing at her cheek with the back of her hand. “See? What did I tell you?” she said between panting breaths. “Unity.”

All seven champions stared at her, disbelief etched on their faces.

“What?” she asked, suddenly self-conscious.

“That was . . .” Gael trailed off.

“You were...” Zephyr seemed at a loss for words.

Nox just watched Elyria with that keen crimson gaze.

Several more moments passed before Kit finally spoke. “You were glowing, Ellie,” she said. “The second Cedric’s blood dropped into your hand it was like...I can’t describe it. You were like a living aurora.” She paused, wringing her hands, then lowered her voice. “Was it...Was it like that before? With Ev?”

Elyria bit her bottom lip. It wasn’t. That had been nothing like this. Not even close. Not just because of the number of people or the amount of power involved, either. It felt different. And Elyria thought that Kit might have understood that because without waiting for an answer she strode toward the newly created doorway.

“Shall we?” Kit said, peering into the passage beyond.

The labyrinth loomed before them, dark and twisting pathways stretching ahead, cutting off to the left and right. The walls seemed crafted from the same roots and thorns as the outer perimeter, reaching all the way to the tops of the trees—to the barrier. There would still be no flying ahead, no peeking overtop.

No cheating.

Elyria thought she saw something move deep inside the maze, something flickering in the shadows. But before she could be sure, the walls shifted, root and thorn unwinding and rewinding to change the path before their eyes .

“Of course,” Cyren muttered, his wings flicking in irritation as he joined her. “Couldn’t just be a straight path, could it?”

Suddenly, Kit spun, her eyes narrowed on a spot behind Elyria’s head. “No. Not you.”

Elyria turned to see Leona and Belien standing unnervingly close. The back of her neck prickled in warning.

“We’ve seen enough,” said Leona, taking another step toward the doorway. “We’re off to get our crown now.”

Gael stepped into their path, between the pair and Elyria. “You shouldn’t even be allowed in! You didn’t help. You didn’t do anything. ”

“Now that’s not fair,” sneered Leona. “We had to sit here and wait for your pathetic asses to figure it out. That took a great deal more effort than you’d think.”

“You’re a disgrace,” Kit said. “You give all humans an even worse name than you’ve already got.”

Belien tensed. “Watch your tongue, pixie witch.”

“It’s thanks to one of us ‘pixie witches’ that you even have the option of moving ahead. Elyria still has yet to hear your thanks.”

Leona laughed—a shrill, piercing sound. “Of course, how rude of me. Thank you .” She sketched a mocking curtsy. “All hail the mighty Revenant—champion of Nyrundelle, slayer of humans, living nightlight.”

Elyria’s hand twitched. The light from the champions’ combined magic might have faded, but some remnant still thrummed in her veins. She could feel it sparking at her fingertips, right alongside her now very awake shadow.

She fought the urge to lash out at the two humans. To fight now would go against everything they just accomplished, everything they now knew about how the Crucible worked and what it wanted.

Leona didn’t seem to care. With a glance at Belien, she took a step toward Elyria, full of menacing promise. “In truth, there is something we should thank you for, I suppose,” she said.

Elyria’s brow creased. “Oh?”

“You demonstrated so beautifully how we might even the magical playing field once we’ve won the crown. If all it takes is a little bit of your blood to wield Arcanian power, maybe things really can start to change after all. ”

Elyria rolled her eyes. “That’s not even how it works, you insane bit?—”

She didn’t get a chance to finish before Leona’s hand darted to her token. Elyria barely had time to yell a word of warning before she was thrown aside.

Kit and Gael darted out of the way as Leona and Belien barrelled toward the labyrinth entrance, narrowly avoiding the magical strikes Leona continued dealing left and right.

The blow that hit Elyria was like a punch to the gut. She gasped for breath as she scrambled back to her feet. She ran after the sorcerers, tossing a disbelieving glance at Cedric as she passed him. He was frozen, indecision stamped into every line of his face. Thraigg and Zephyr cast nervous looks at him, as if waiting for him to tell them what to do. Nox was nowhere to be seen—had they already taken off into the labyrinth without anyone noticing?

Fucking nocterrian.

A stream of fire flew over Elyria’s head, catching the tail of Leona’s cloak just as she crossed the threshold. Gael whooped victoriously, standing a few paces behind Elyria as Leona shrieked, stopping mid-run to stomp out the flames licking her feet.

Without a thought, Elyria shot out a hand, dark tendrils forming a ribbon of shadow, the edges sharp as a blade as they raced for Leona. Whatever flicker of surprise she might’ve felt from her shadows finally emerging was quickly smothered by the need to thwart the sorcerer. She would stop her. She would bind her. And then they would deal with her.

But Elyria had momentarily forgotten about Belien. He jumped into the path of Elyria’s shadow. With a burst of mana, he deflected the sharp ribbon, sending it in a wide arc over Elyria’s head.

No. No, no, no, no.

Elyria knew what had happened before she heard Gael’s shocked, pained gasp. Before she felt the earth shudder with the impact of Gael’s body hitting the ground. Before she saw the blood splattered across the grass or the severed wing laying at a grotesque angle nearby.

Bile rose in Elyria’s throat.

“Monsters!” Cyren’s roar was a battle cry as he raced into the labyrinth after Belien and Leona. There wasn’t even time to try and stop him. With a flash of silver-white wings, he was gone. As were the humans, having disappeared into the curving maze.

Elyria rushed to Gael’s side, her heart pounding. The flamecaller’s breaths were shallow as Elyria brushed a lock of wine-red hair back from her forehead. She was already so pale.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Elyria muttered, frantic.

Zephyr and Kit were a blur as they worked in tandem to stop the bleeding.

“Stay with me, Winters,” Kit commanded as she wrapped tendrils of healing magic around what remained of Gael’s right wing.

“You’re going to be okay, I promise,” said Zephyr, her hands glowing as she ran them across Gael’s body and whatever unseen injuries lay within.

Guilt burned under Elyria’s skin. Ice slithered through her gut. Heavy footsteps and scraping metal sounded behind her head, and she knew without looking who was standing behind her.

“This is your fault!” she yelled, whirling on Cedric.

He backed up several paces. “Me? That’s?—”

She didn’t let him speak. Advancing another step with every accusation, she screamed, “You just stood there!” Advance . “You let them get away!” Advance . “What were you thinking?” Advance .

“I—”

“That’s right, nothing . You stood there like a fucking coward while your human brethren ”—she hurled the words at him like a poisoned dagger—“tried to cheat their way to the crown.”

Cedric’s face fell. “And do you think they deserve to die for cheating?” His voice was low.

It stopped Elyria’s rage in its tracks for a fleeting moment. He wasn’t just talking about Leona and Belien. “No,” she said with conviction. “But they do deserve it for what they just did to Gael. What they could be doing to Cyren now, for all we know.”

Gael coughed weakly. “Some . . . someone . . .”

Elyria was back at her side in an instant. “Shh,” she said. “Save your strength. Focus on healing.”

“Someone has to go help him,” Gael pleaded. “Help Cy, please. ”

Elyria met Zephyr’s forest-green eyes. “Can she move? ”

Pulling vial after vial from her belt, Zephyr shook her head. “Not yet.”

“Then we need to split up,” Elyria said, getting back to her feet. She scooped up her staff from where she had discarded it earlier and thrust one end into the ground, leaning into it as though she might collapse without the support. “I’m going after them.”

Kit stood. “We’ll go.” Her instantaneous assent had Elyria’s heart clenching. She only made it two steps before stopping again, however. Casting a nervous look between Zephyr and Gael, Kit said, “What if they need?—”

“I’ll stay.” Thraigg’s deep voice was uncharacteristically solemn.

Elyria gave the dwarf a nod of thanks. “Don’t proceed until she has recovered enough to move—not a moment before. We will find Cyren...and deal with Leona and Belien. And we’ll meet you on the other side.”

“I’ll go too.” Cedric’s voice was heavy with some emotion that made Elyria’s chest tighten. She couldn’t deal with that right now—didn’t want to. She knew she wasn’t being fair to him. She knew she was projecting, her own guilt over the role she’d played in Gael’s mutilation tearing at her heart.

She didn’t care.

“No,” she told him, and she thought he might have shuddered at the chill in her voice. Good. “You stay here with Gael. It’s the least you can do.”

And with a final look at the butchered wing laying on the grass, Elyria ran into the labyrinth.