60

  The Haribon’s wings beat once—twice—before the colossal bird angled downward, slipping through the fractured opening of the ruined druid castle. Wind howled past the jagged stone. Lir guided the beast with steady determination, her cloak snapping behind her. Maxi clung to the Haribon’s back, pale but trying not to show it. Katherine held onto Finn, heart pounding at the sight of the ancient fortress swallowed by roots and time.

  The Haribon landed in a burst of feathers and dust. Its talons scraped the stone, echoing across the courtyard where roots twisted like sleeping serpents. The group dismounted quickly, hurrying toward the spiral stairway yawning open in the earth.

  From the broken archway above, someone else moved.

  A figure hidden deep in shadow.

  A cloak blending with stone.

  A presence as silent as breath.

  Kael followed.

  His descent down the spiral staircase made no sound. No footstep, no scrape. Only the faint shift of cold wind tugging at his hood.

  Below, the spiraling passage opened into the old bridge and then the massive hall. Heavy pillars lined the chamber like petrified giants. Lir led them across, shoulders tense yet purposeful. Maxi hovered close. Katherine’s fingers remained latched onto Finn’s sleeve, unaware of her grip.

  And from behind a pillar—

  Kael watched.

  A familiar ripple in the air brushed past him, tinged with cold and hunger.

  He knew that presence.

  The Revenant materialized one by one—silent, disciplined, stepping into the hall as if returning to their rightful domain.

  And then—

  Barang.

  Aura crushing.

  Air tightening.

  A storm compressed into a single body.

  Maxi was the first to fall, his courage swallowed by overwhelming force. Karit clattered across the stone as it was torn from his grip. Lir fought fiercely, but the Guardian and Barang smothered her resistance with terrifying precision.

  Kael remained hidden, shadow still as stone.

  His gaze was not on Barang.

  It was on the figure standing among the Revenant.

  Baldirion.

  A small turn of the head.

  A flicker of recognition.

  A moment too quick for anyone but Kael to see.

  No words exchanged.

  No gestures offered.

  Just the faintest acknowledgment between teacher and student—father and son—before the world roared forward again.

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  Kael’s fingers tightened around the keris beneath his cloak. The weapon vibrated softly, its tri-edged blade remembering a history few were allowed to know.

  Inside the dome, vines writhed. Lir collapsed near the wall, breath shallow. Katherine’s scream drifted faintly from far below where she and Finn had fallen.

  Barang stepped toward the circular platform, the stolen Karit gleaming like the edge of a nightmare.

  Kael moved.

  He sprinted from the pillar—no wasted motion, no hesitation.

  The vines sensed him. Too late.

  Shhk—shhk—shhk.

  Several were sliced cleanly.

  Others froze mid-curl as a subtle pressure radiated outward from Kael’s momentum.

  Inside the dome, heat swirled with the scent of earth and old magic, like the breath of a buried forest waking.

  Kael landed lightly—barely a whisper of sound. His eyes swept the chamber once:

  Lir unconscious.

  Platform ahead.

  Barang raising the Karit like a ritual blade.

  Kael accelerated.

  Barang turned.

  Metal met metal—keris to Karit—and the impact sang through the dome like ringing glass.

  Barang’s grin widened.

  “I know that blade,” he murmured. “How do you have it?”

  Kael gave him nothing.

  He slid backward, right foot touching the ground—

  And the stone listened.

  Ripples formed beneath his boot. A sharpened stone spire shot upward, racing toward Barang with a snapping crack.

  Barang flicked his cloak, stepping back to the platform’s very edge—not out of fear, but calculation.

  They clashed again.

  Keris and Karit sparked, carving silver arcs through the air.

  Then Barang unleashed his tide.

  A river of insects poured from his cloak, crawling over the stone, eager to latch onto skin, eyes, lungs—anything alive.

  Kael moved back until his shoulders nearly brushed the dome wall. Calm. Focused.

  He closed his eyes.

  Whispered words older than the castle itself.

  Heat crept up through the cracks beneath him.

  A hot mist exhaled from the ground, swirling around his boots, then rising like a protective shroud.

  The insects sizzled the moment they touched it.

  One by one they curled, twitched, and fell lifeless.

  A few leaped—only to drop instantly as the heat swallowed them mid-air.

  Barang paused.

  That flicker of astonishment—genuine, brief—glinted in his eyes.

  “Who are you?”

  Kael opened his eyes.

  Still silent.

  Barang moved.

  Blur.

  Kick—deflected.

  Sweep—countered.

  Crash—Barang fell but vanished before he hit stone.

  He reappeared above Kael, descending like a spear—

  But Kael had anticipated it.

  The ceiling cracked.

  A stone spire burst downward.

  Barang collided with it shoulder-first.

  Blood spattered the floor.

  He landed several yards away, lips curling upward—not angry, but intrigued.

  “You are not bad…” he said. “Very not bad.”

  Then—

  The cloak fell, revealing his body, dangles on his upper arms and thighs, and neck.

  His body shifted—darkness blooming over his torso, insects swirling beneath the skin like a captive ocean. The bindings snapped; claws extended; scales hardened along his legs.

  Even the Revenant outside stiffened, sensing their master’s release.

  Kael braced.

  Barang vanished.

  Stab.

  Stab.

  Stab.

  Karit flashed—too fast.

  Some strikes bit into Kael’s skin.

  Others he deflected, barely keeping pace.

  Then—

  CRACK.

  A kick slammed into Kael’s face.

  He flew into the dome wall, stone fracturing around him like a broken shell.

  The world rang.

  Before he could fall, Barang rose before him, floating with effortless malice. He tilted his head as Kael’s hood slipped back, eyes narrowing.

  “Ahh…” Barang breathed.

  “You smell like a druid. Are you a druid?”

  Kael glared—but remained silent.

  Barang’s hand closed around his neck.

  He hurled him across the dome—

  Kael hit the ground, rolling once before instinct forced him to rise to his knees.

  Too slow.

  Barang was already there.

  Claws plunged into Kael’s abdomen.

  Breath shattered from his chest, a sound between a gasp and a choke.

  Kael fell, blood pooling beneath him.

  Barang wiped the claw on the cracked stone, bored now, as though the fight had been merely a test.

  Without a backward glance, he walked toward the circular platform.

  The insects followed like an obedient tide.

  The Karit hummed in his hand, hungry.

  Kael lay motionless as the dome vibrated faintly around him.

  And far below the platform—

  in the darkness where Finn and Katherine had fallen—

  something began to stir.