With the dark prison’s shattering, we found ourselves standing at the center of a sprawling magic circle, its curves carved deep into grey slate and filled with pulsing gold.

  “We’re in the underground dark mage lab!” I gasped, spinning around.

  A familiar stone altar loomed at one end.

  “The sanctuary? Did we scrub it clean, just so that bastard could fill it with magic circuits of containment?!”

  “Indeed,” Olethros murmured. His eyes remained closed, but his head tilted as if listening to the room itself. “They sealed the outer doors, but I don’t believe that will be a problem.”

  His aura surged upward and split into lash-like tendrils of shadow. One by one, they whipped outward to strike the larger junctions of the gold circuitry.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Reclaiming my sanctum and freeing my subordinates.”

  The gold array flickered, then curdled, its shining veins twisting into a sickly, corrosive green. The corruption raced outward, crawling up the altar and engulfing a massive orb set upon it. After several loud cracks, the orb burst, its toxic liquid spilling over the altar and melting half the stone slab away in a long, single hiss.

  Somewhere deeper in the complex, a low hum rose. Several explosions reverberated before hitting the room. The sealed stone door at the far end of the sanctuary rattled violently. Startled shouts came from above, quick and panicked.

  Olethros lifted one hand, his index finger pointed like a conductor’s baton, and made a series of precise swipes through the air. Each motion triggered a heavy boom somewhere beyond the chamber, followed by muffled cries and abrupt silences.

  “Are you smashing them?!” I sputtered.

  “No.” He traced another gesture, summoning a loud grind of stone against stone. “Most of them lose consciousness at the thought of being crushed.”

  A loud thunderous boom shook dust from the ceiling.

  “You could level this whole lab!” I shouted.

  “With the animus you shared, I could, but I won’t. It’s built to withstand a bit of play in its walls, remember?”

  I frowned, running a ghostly hand through my ethereal hair. “Won’t a dark mage be able to just drill through the stone?”

  “Yes. Which is why I’m determining the composition of our opponents.” His aura billowed. “It seems they’re only priests. My subordinates are constraining the dark mages.”

  “He should have more security here, shouldn’t he?” I asked.

  “I assume his attempts at apotheosis are resource-straining,” he said with a snip. “Either that or his arrogance is still in charge.”

  There was a loud buzz from behind, and I turned just in time to see a plume of smoke swirl from nothing.

  “Master,” Tarek greeted Olethros, coalescing into a man kneeling on one knee.

  “Any from the Order of Black?” he asked, skipping over any pleasantries.

  “One.”

  Olethros stiffened, his aura tentacles retracting. “Landon?”

  Please, no. Not Master Landon…

  Tarek shook his head. “Volker.”

  Olethros exhaled in disgust. “Am I to assume that blasted weasel of a dark mage regained his powers by once again joining hands with the Sage?”

  Tarek glanced about uneasily. “Ah…”

  “I’m sure the question was rhetorical,” I advised.

  He stood up, startled. “Chosen One?!”

  “Hi.” I waved. “Right here?”

  “Where?!”

  “You cannot perceive her,” Olethros said without looking. “Your connection differs from mine. Returning to Volker—” He concentrated even as the booms continued, his hair once again billowing in a breeze that didn’t exist. “He’s already running. Execute him.”

  “Do you require proof?”

  “No. We won’t remain long enough to verify. I trust your competence.”

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  Tarek bowed.

  “What’s the name of the head priest here?” Olethros asked.

  “Father Irijah.”

  Oh no!

  Olethros nodded. “Tell the others to disperse and await further orders. You’re dismissed.”

  “O-olethros, benevolent and wise partner of mine….” I stammered. “Father Irijah is someone I know, and I know that he would never—”

  A wide section of wall shrieked, ripped apart at the jab of his clawed finger, showcasing the rubble-filled hallway behind it. A rumbling slab of stone rounded its far corner, pushing a terrified Father Irijah in front of it. He screamed as the stone plowed him into the room, only for Olethros to strike. He snatched him by the collar one-handed, plucked his staff away, and flung him into a dark and tentacled magic circle that appeared the moment he hit the floor.

  “Foul demon!” Irijah spat, thrashing. “You will know no peace in this world for your crimes!”

  Olethros ignored him, examining the stolen staff instead. “Solid core… This will suffice for now,” he murmured as he drove it into the floor. “Plus animus! Ego vi!”

  The staff pulsed as it absorbed waves of darkness.

  I stepped between them. “Okay, right tools for the right job, sure. But our job should be leaving, right? So maybe we can just forget any personal vendettas and—”

  “Captain Lightbringer, tell me all the reasons why I should not kill him.”

  Father Irijah went pale.

  “He—He doesn’t know the truth! He’s a good man! Just misinformed!”

  Olethros flexed his fingers. “Captain, you are not answering the question correctly. I asked why I should not kill him. Your logic should be centered on me, not him.”

  “You’re better than this!”

  “I don’t know what you mean when you refer to this. Surely you meant to say that I am better than him?” He opened his eyes slightly, and I saw a playful little gleam in the corner of his eye.

  “Uh… Yes?”

  “Still too vague. Would you say that I’m smarter than him?”

  Father Irijah, surprisingly, managed to get to his feet. “This… this is sacrilege! To pretend that the Chosen One would have such a conversation with a beast like you!”

  I glanced back and forth between the two of them, unsure of what the game was. “Uh… yes?”

  Olethros nodded, a small smile forming. “And what about my physical appearance—compared to his?”

  “It’s not even a contest…?”

  Because you can cheat anytime?

  “So, in summary, my worth is far greater than that of this lowly human—”

  “What madness is this?!” Irijah shouted, black vapor engulfing him.

  “I second that question!” I snapped. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you never intended to kill him in the first place!”

  Olethros shrugged. “I never said I intended to. I just asked for reasons why I shouldn’t.”

  “I swear, the moment I get my body back, I’m going to—”

  “Chosen One?” Irijah cried, his eyes wide. “No. This—this must be an illusion!”

  I turned. “Father Irijah, can you see me now?”

  He slammed his hands over his face. “No, no, I do not see you!”

  “Lying is unbecoming of a priest,” Olethros chided, waving his finger back and forth. “I merely adjusted your animus to my thaumic resonance so that you perceive truth. You’re welcome... to both of you.”

  I glared at him, only for his smile to widen. “Oh, just you wait, Olethros, I’ll be sure to thank you in kind—”

  “This is just a trick to break my Faith!” Father Irijah shouted. “I saw the scythe! The blood!”

  “And my corpse? Did you see that, too?” I asked.

  He recoiled, falling back down to the floor. “Everyone knows the Demoness Nora absconded with your corpse,” he cried, his voice cracking. “To deny you your eternal rest, on the Demon King’s command!”

  I flinched.

  The world thinks Nora… works for Olethros? Oh, she is going to be so pissed.

  Olethros glanced at the staff that had begun to shudder. “If you have anything important to say to your friend, you should make it quick.”

  I sighed and turned. “Father…”

  He flinched as I took a step forward.

  He’s not ready to believe me.

  “Irijah. I could spend precious time telling you about all the terrible things Relias has done, but I know you’d just talk yourself out of it. So don’t listen to me. Listen to logic. Volker’s already gone. You and your colleagues need to leave, too. The moment Relias finds out Olethros here has escaped, he’ll kill you. You understand that, right?”

  Father Irijah looked up. “You’re wrong! He—”

  “He has no more use for you, except as a martyr... or a scapegoat. By a miracle, you survived his first crossbow bolt back in Chairo, but when he comes for you this time, he’ll be sure to make you suffer for making him look like a fool.”

  The priest drew himself up in rebuttal but then froze.

  “I’m not going to ask you to fight him. Or even to join us. Honestly, I don’t know if I could keep you safe a second time. All I’m asking is that you run as fast and as far away from him as you can. And if you find anyone you know along the way, help them to disappear too. I don’t want what happened to Councilmen Pravum and Procul to happen to you.”

  Olethros gave a soft, satisfied hum as he released the circle around Irijah. “Well said, Captain.”

  “And you,” I snapped. “Have a bad habit of playing nasty little games! It’s no wonder people don’t trust you!”

  “Which came first, I wonder,” he quipped, his eyeless gaze on the priest. “Well? What are you waiting for? Leave my sanctum.”

  Father Irijah glanced for a moment at the staff before fleeing down the passageway, cursing us both as he did so.

  “Well, now what?” I asked, folding my arms.

  “I find your intelligence and physical appearance to be greater than his as well,” he replied with a smirk. “In case you had any doubt.”

  “I meant about getting out of here.”

  “Just as soon as I find my second sanctum. Before you ask, yes, it’s mobile. You even wore it on your sword for a while—”

  The staff let out a loud buzz.

  “Master?!” Amos’s voice called.

  Olethros jumped, racing forward to put both his hands around the weapon. “I was expecting Nora… Is she with you?”

  There was a long pause, and then some dreadful hissing. Olethros nodded and hissed back.

  Amos laughed. “It really is you, Master… I’m so glad to—”

  “Is Rachel with you, too?”

  “Yes, but… She… She has not woken.”

  “She will soon,” Olethros assured him. “All you need to do is tell us where you are.”

  “We took refuge in Aziza’s Maze.”

  Aziza’s Maze…?

  What’s going on there?!

  And how can I get there?

  West of the Dark Tower…

  South enough to be out of the High Temple’s sight lines…

  But far… so very, very, far…

  “Ah… How am I going to cross half a continent like this?”

  Olethros removed one hand and placed it on my shoulder, and suddenly I felt a strong tug. “You’re not.”

  “What’s happening?”

  He leaned in toward my ear, his hair brushing my insubstantial cheek. “I’ll meet you there. Don’t go anywhere without me.” His hold tightened for one last second. “And Rachel?”

  “What?”

  He whispered, “This is the last time I’m letting you go.”

  With that, he released me, and I once again crossed the kaleidoscopic divide of space.