Chapter 18

  The house began to tremble. A hurricane of wings and screeches pressed in from all sides, like bone on rusted metal. Even River’s thoughts were drowned out, the noise too overwhelming to focus.

  Limbs, too many and too long, protruded from every crevice: cracks in the walls, between the broken shutters, beneath the warped floorboards. They circled like predators waiting for the signal to strike.

  River clenched his jaw and reached beneath his armor, drawing the dagger he rarely used. His essence reserves were lower than he’d like; he needed to be smart, efficient. Tactical.

  For a heartbeat, the world seemed to still. The screeching faded to a dull hum as his eyes locked on his friends.

  Albert stood ahead, Tessa at his side. The rock-like creature seemed to grow, growling low, trunk raised, while Albert held his hammer in both hands, his posture wide and grounded. The shadow creature at the center of the chaos lowered its head, ready to charge. Albert didn’t flinch. His knuckles were white, straining against the haft.

  To River’s left, Amalia crouched low, daggers drawn, her entire frame coiled like a spring. Nymeira hovered beside her—wings flared wide, tail twitching with anticipation.

  A fleeting flicker of awe.

  The first creature whirled into the room, a blur of claws and clicking limbs. Smaller than the one they had faced before, but no less deadly.

  Amalia was the first to move. Without hesitation, she lunged, her daggers flashing in arcs too fast for River’s eyes to follow. Beside her, Nymeira dove in, fangs bared, tearing through flesh and shadow with vicious precision.

  Albert advanced with slow, terrifying calm. Each swing of his hammer was deliberate, and every strike landed with a sickening thump that echoed through the fractured walls.

  Above them, Calira streaked through the air in her phoenix form. Fire trailed behind her like a comet, her flames arcing through the chaos. She weaved between clawed limbs with impossible grace, her body shifting size midflight to avoid the creature’s grasping at the air behind her.

  River centered himself.

  He drew a breath and summoned what essence remained. The world snapped into focus. His vision sharpened, the haze cleared. He could see everything, the twitch of muscles before an attack, the jagged angles of limbs warped by corruption. He could see it now: the essence leaked from them, thick and dark, tainting the air like smoke.

  But they were surrounded.

  River leapt into the fray, his dagger shifting shape mid-strike, responding to his will with perfect precision. He moved like liquid flame, each step flowing into the next, instinct guiding every motion. Magic surged from him in waves. Earth erupted beneath his feet, flames roared in spirals, lightning cracked through shadows, and blades of water sliced the air. When the cold clutched at his legs he pushed it back.

  The creatures shrieked as he pushed forward. He cut left to open a lane for Amalia. But the essence poured from him, each step heavier than the last, cold climbed his calves, turning his legs to lead. One strike, then another; blood threaded from his nose, but the lane held.

  For a breath, it seemed they would hold—the shrieks were the creatures’. Albert pinned one to the table; Amalia cut another at the knee, buying River the seconds he needed to act.

  But then River saw the truth.

  It wasn’t enough.

  For every creature they struck down, two more took its place. The horde was endless. The walls pulsed with their weight, limbs slithered from every crack and gap. The house was filling, inch by inch, moment by moment. Soon, there would be no space left to fight.

  River reached out to Calira in his mind.

  Do you have enough to carry us out if I create a distraction?

  Her voice was dry as ever, but not without a hint of weariness.

  So I just do everything now? Fine. Yes, I can get you out. I don’t know how far, but I’m faster than them. We won’t hold for much longer anyway.

  River clenched his jaw. He didn’t have time to hesitate.

  Albert bled as he pressed forward; Amalia’s daggers had slowed to half the speed. He would need a plan. He opened his mouth and roared, power intertwined with the sound.”

  “Get behind me!”

  The air shuddered.

  A ripple surged out from River’s chest like a shockwave, distorting the light itself, warping dust and shadow. The command wasn’t just heard; it was felt. It pressed against skin, against bone, like a wave of pressure screaming for obedience. Albert and Amalia didn’t hesitate. Neither did the bonded beasts. They stumbled back, instinct overriding thought. Even the creatures hesitated, their claws skittering on blood-slick floorboards, their limbs twitching uncertainly.

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  River stepped forward.

  Calm. Deliberate. His steps landed like thunder. Essence poured off him in blazing coils. Unyielding will. Power. The hum of his tunic increased. Pain receded; blood slid from his nose, copper salted his tongue, but his focus did not waver.

  He was done running.

  Just like the King had once done in the palace, River forced his will outward, shoving it into the minds of everything in the room. Every abomination. Every insectile horror. He could feel them recoil. Twitch. Flinch.

  A few of them dropped, not dead, but crippled, their minds short-circuited under the pressure.

  His jaw clenched, his eyes burning white-hot with power. His body trembled with the effort of holding it together.

  Behind him, Calira moved. Her wings had reformed, vast and glowing, stretching across the crumbling room. She shifted between forms like molten fire, woman and bird in one breath, ember and wind in the next. Without a word, she moved to Albert and Amalia, her wings arching protectively over them.

  Preparing.

  Shielding.

  Waiting for the order to fly.

  For now, she watched River and waited.

  And River stood. His will alone holding back the tide.

  The shadowy caster at the back switched targets; River saw it half a beat too late. The wall blew apart; air punched him flat. He rolled, choosing cover instead of throwing back. Wood, stone, and vine blasted outward in a deafening burst, shrapnel spinning through the air.

  And then he saw it.

  The sky.

  Once gray and silent, now crawled with wings.

  Dozens. No, hundreds, filling the sky like a plague. They drifted through the air like insects made of darkness, their jagged limbs twitching, wings pulsing with corrupted essence. Their eyes glowed a sickly yellow, and their bodies twitched unnaturally, shifting and snapping as they hovered like vultures preparing to feast.

  River’s heart dropped.

  And then, from the center of the chaos, a figure stepped forward. Philip.

  He emerged beside one of the larger creatures, utterly unaffected by the wave of will River had cast over the others. The pressure that had dropped lesser monsters to their knees didn’t so much as ruffle his cloak.

  A slow smile, drawn-out thing crept from ear to ear. His yellow eyes gleamed, almost joyful. “It’s nice to see you. You look good,” Philip said with mock warmth. “Your coming with me. By any means necessary.”

  River didn’t respond. He couldn’t. Every ounce of strength was being funneled into holding the line, keeping the abominations locked in place.

  Philip stepped forward, casually cracking his neck as he moved. “So you’ve met the Blightborn. They’re quite beautiful, aren’t they?” A soft chuckle escaped his lips. It was not the laughter of amusement, but of inevitability. His mock warmth rubbed River the wrong way. River’s legs trembled. His breath came in sharp rasps. He was burning essence faster than he could replenish it, and his vision was already narrowing. He knew what came next if they didn’t run.

  Then, with a breath like the first gasp of someone drowning, he let go.

  Cold slammed into him. The void left by the departing power chilled his bones, leaving his muscles sluggish, his limbs unresponsive. He stood frozen, wavering on the edge of collapse.

  “Hurry up, they’re moving!” Amalia’s voice pierced the fog.

  And they were. The Blightborn had begun advancing again, creeping forward like shadows with teeth, sensing weakness.

  River snapped to action, forcing his legs to move. He spun and bolted toward Calira.

  A burst of earth magic launched him upward, a slab of stone lifting him like a platform to her back. Her wings were already unfolding, ember-veined and blazing against the sky.

  “Go!” he roared, spinning mid-air to fire a blast of raw essence into the wall. The wall exploded outward, revealing more of the open world beyond. A path with no Blightborne in it.

  As Calira lurched skyward, the remaining portions of the house began to crumble around them

  The world blurred beneath them as her wings pounded the air, clawing toward freedom.

  River had thought they would be safe once they were airborne.

  He couldn’t have been more wrong. It wasn’t over.

  From above, a massive shadow blurred through the sky—a dark blot that moved faster than thought. A Blightborn, larger than any they had yet seen, slammed into him mid-flight. The impact was thunderous. Pain exploded through his chest, the sound of broken bones and splatter of blood sent pulses throughout his body, as he was torn from Calira’s back and sent hurtling through the sky.

  The world spun violently.

  Sky. Earth. Sky. Earth.

  Then ground.

  River struck with a bone-rattling crash, a crack echoing through his ribs as the air was wrenched from his lungs. He gasped, convulsing as pain stabbed through his side. Dust and broken stone skidded around him as he rolled to a stop, coughing violently.

  Above him, he felt her, Calira. Her panic flared through their bond like a burning wire, and he sensed her begin to turn.

  No.

  Get them out of here, he pushed the thought toward her, forcing clarity into the words. I’ll be fine.

  Even if it was a lie, he had to believe it. He had to make her believe it too.

  Her hesitation seared across their connection like fire on skin—but then she turned, wings slicing the wind as she carried the others away.

  River didn’t have time to breathe.

  A shadow fell across him.

  He looked up, and there he was.

  Philip.

  Standing above him like a dark god, cloak fluttering in the corrupted wind. His one yellow burned with wicked delight, and his grin curved wide, inhumanly wide.

  River’s body ached, but his hand moved on instinct. He snatched his dagger from its sheath. With a thought, the blade elongated, its edge humming with power as he aimed it straight for Philip’s heart.

  For a moment, hope flared.

  Then Philip leaned back, effortlessly graceful, the blade missing by inches.

  And he laughed.

  “I see,” Philip said with a chuckle, “you still have my weapon.”

  The weapon twitched at Philip’s voice, his claim over the weapon stronger than Rivers. Corrupted essence braided the hilt, trying to wrest control from River’s hand. His fingers locked; the blade shivered—then, like a beast hearing its master, ripped free and flew to Philip’s waiting palm.

  The dagger pulsed faintly in Philip’s grasp, almost… happy to be home.

  River staggered upright. His legs trembled, his vision swam. He summoned the last dregs of essence he had, igniting a flicker of fire in his palm. His hand rose.

  But even as the flame left his fingers, he knew it wouldn’t be enough.

  Philip didn’t flinch.

  He didn’t even blink.

  He simply stepped to the side and closed the distance in a breath.

  A hand wreathed in corrupted essence smashed into River’s jaw. There was no defense. No shield. No second chance.

  Agony lanced through his face, his skull ringing like a cracked bell. Blood burst from his mouth as he was lifted from the ground and hurled backward, slamming into the stone again with a crunch.

  Darkness clawed at the edges of his vision. His limbs refused to move. His breath was gone.

  Philip stepped closer, looming above him like a verdict. He leaned down, breath hot on his cheek, and muttered. “You won’t get off so easily. Get ready to meet my master.” And as River’s eyes fluttered shut, one final thought echoed like a funeral bell through his mind:

  So this is where it ends.