The moment the glowing stopped, Zaramir collapsed, forehead on the floor, body in a tight ball. The arm that had, just moments ago, been engulfed in flame was left as nothing but bone and char. He was breathing heavily but Corabelle could hear him trying desperately to mute the sound.

  She dismissed the water, danger averted for the time being. The sudden humidity forced into the air made her break out into an uncomfortable sweat. She had to force herself not to run to him or she would endanger them both trying to get across the field of noisy debris.

  Slowly pink flesh began to sprout from the charcoal flesh, healing over into fresh, young skin. The Runebinds etching himself back into the flesh, bound to his Spark.

  After the flesh returned to his bones, the skin returning to its usual state, he sat up.

  The amulet still gripped in his fist, he held it up to her. It was just a little too sparkly, she could see just a hint of flickering inside.

  Eyes flashing to the Elementals that had returned to slumber, she hurriedly waved him back. They didn’t have time to revel in this victory, at least not now. First they had to get out, then they needed to be sure everyone else did the same.

  The Elementals were dormant for now, but it likely wouldn’t stay that way forever. The more time passed, the more dangerous it became for this House.

  Zaramir made his way slowly, carefully, back over the mess, still gripping their prize in his fist.

  As he made it to the door, she could see the exhaustion in his eyes. She didn’t know if it was the ritual or the healing that had drained him so quickly, but she knew he was tired, his Spark dimmed. If they had to fight the others, they wouldn’t stand a chance.

  Once in the atrium did he finally dare to speak, “I’m glad you weren’t too hasty with that spell. Thank you for your assistance.”

  “But I didn’t do anything.” She said, looking at this arm where the last of the young flesh was beginning to return to usual, Runebinds darkening back to their vivid black ink.

  “Yes, you did.” He didn’t elaborate, but she sensed appreciation despite his cool tone. He tucked the amulet carefully back into the recesses of his pack as he spoke, avoiding her worried gaze.

  As they left the decrepit building, Corabelle nearly jumped out her skin when she found herself face to face with the House Master.

  Vengürd stood, patiently waiting for them. A strange expression graced his face, as though he was nearly as surprised to see them as they were to see him.

  His outfit had changed. He was no longer wearing the traditional house master’s robes. Now he wore a simple red tunic that fit him only barely better than the robe had, and black leather pants, similarly too small for him. Around his waist was a belt of small vials, potions.

  “Apologies for startling you,” His face morphed to a calm pride, voice as sweet as sap. “I’m assuming you succeeded then?”

  “We did,” She smiled warily, suspicious of his sudden appearance. “Thank you again for letting me get the practice.”

  She couldn’t let him find out that they knew about the other Elementals. He’d never let them leave with that information.

  “They didn’t give you too much trouble?” He hooked his thumbs over the top of his belt, fingers tracing the slick glass vials.

  “They? Oh, you mean the rats?” She forced a flirtatious giggle to muddle her bluff. “No, they ran right off.”

  “Hmm, I’m glad to hear that. I was afraid they might frighten you.” He purred, palming a small vial containing a deep blue liquid from a loop on his belt, in a clear attempt to hide that he’d done so.

  His eyes drifted to Zaramir for. In that moment, something dark flashed across his face. I

  Her blood ran cold as she realized what that look was. Zaramir hadn’t recovered his Runebinds.

  Before she could react, make something up to get them out of this, the Master had his arm wrapped around her chest. He yanked her away with more force than a mortal man should have, painfully crushing her breasts into her ribs.

  His enhancements weren’t just aesthetic. He was strong, too strong. She couldn’t break free, even as she fought to loosen his grip at the very least enough to take a full breath.

  He hauled her across the hilltop, swiftly, pulling her far from Zaramir’s reach.

  Zaramir tensed but he didn’t make a move. She could see calculations swimming behind his eyes. It was not a heartbeat before the options were weighed and Zaramir spoke, that same cool tone, “Let go of her. What in the hells are you doing?” It might have been convincing if there was even a hint of surprise in his voice.

  “I had my suspicions,” Vengürd spat, ignoring the inquiry. “But I was hoping I was wrong. How long have you been it’s captive?” He directed the question to Corabelle, who was still squirming against his crushing embrace.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  She grabbed at his arms trying to pry herself free, but it did very little against whatever enhancement potion he was using, “What are you talking about?” She demanded, trying to dissuade him from the truth. “He’s my friend. We’re from the same House. He’s just tutoring me. I'm not a captive. Get off me!”

  “Enchantment,” The Master hissed. “That’s your specialty then, monster. I had figured you were holding her by force, perhaps some sort of Binding. This is just cruel, even for your kind.”

  “Come now, dear friend. I thought we were above such insults.” From behind her she could hear a voice, a familiar voice. One that made her whole body go numb, her legs collapsing under her, causing the Master to squeeze impossibly tighter.

  Something suddenly changed in Zaramir. A look on his face as his eyes locked on something behind Vengürd. His hand flew up, gripping his shirt at the base of his sternum. His body folded in two. He seemed to be having difficulties remaining on his feet, but he was holding stronger than she was. Corabelle hadn’t even seen what the assailant had done to cause this.

  She couldn’t even feel Vengürd’s painful grip on her as cold detachment filled her body, wrapping her in a cocoon of numb false safety.

  “Apologies,” Vengürd said calmly.

  “‘Monster’ I can accept, but don’t lump me together with my lesser brother. That's just rude.” He finally circled to within Corabelle’s vision. Though, she hadn’t needed to see him to recognize him. She couldn't forget the voice of the man who killed her.

  The other Faedemon bent over examining her closely, “Hmm. Interesting turn of events,” He smiled disgustingly pleasantly. “I have to admit. You do surprise me. I was certain you’d stay dead. Did his Court take you in out of pity? Did he beg to keep his little plaything? Whatever would possess them to turn you into one of us?” He pondered as he twisted a stray strand of white hair around his finger absentmindedly.

  Corabelle couldn’t bring herself to so much as shy away from the touch.

  “She’s what?” Vengürd snarled, shoving her away like she had suddenly burst into flame.

  She collided with the thankfully soft grass, but as her eyes locked with her murderer, her legs refused to form any sort of support to bring her to her feet.

  “Honest mistake, friend.” The other Faedemon set a hand on Vengürd’s shoulder. “She is quite cute. Exactly your type, if I’m not mistaken. Easy to miss something so obvious when you’re not thinking with your head.” He laughed callously, slapping the Master on the back like they were old chums.

  Vengürd sneered, “What a waste.”

  The other Faedemon patted his shoulder in mock sympathy, “Well, not a total waste. Imagine the glory of killing two Faedemons. You’ll be hailed as a hero.” A malicious grin curled the corners of his lips.

  “You want them dead? Why?” The master questioned, suspiciously. “It’s not as though you can eat them.”

  “What does it really matter?” The other man retorted. “You get them fame and I get to have the pleasure of finishing what I started. That’s all.”

  Vengürd rolled his eyes, “Fine. Just leave their bodies. I’ll need proof.”

  “Can’t do that.” The Faedemon tsked, disappointedly. “If I leave the bodies intact, they’ll just be brought back to life and things will get messy. But I'll make sure the registry will grant you the appropriate rewards.”

  “Fine. Just make it fast. I don’t want the students to hear.” The Master sneered.

  “What did he offer you?” Corabelle’s head whipped around to see Zaramir standing, eyes cold. He displayed no hint that anything had happened to him, besides exhaustion he was trying to conceal.

  “I gave him ingredients and solved some other teensy problems this school was facing. What else would a House master ask for?” The other Faedemon spoke for him, a devious grin of amusement curling across his lips as though he suddenly remembered there was another plaything for him to torment.

  “Ingredients from the Faerealm. I’m guessing that is how this House gained its influence.” Zaramir completed the thought. “And what did he give you?”

  “Did they tell you that Botanical Studies was where they sent the most troublesome students? The ones that couldn’t even complete the most basic potions?” He grinned. “No one even cared that they were gone. Now, well, the building is very dangerous. If students don't listen and wander in, it's their own fault if they don’t make it out.”

  “You send struggling students to be his meal. You do understand that, right?” Zaramir glared at the uncaring Master.

  “You have no right to judge me!” Vengürd spat. “Alchemy was a joke, a hobby before I took over. My uncle’s school was little more than a camp for parents to send their untalented children who flunked out of every other discipline. Weeding out the weak to make way for the Alchemists who could actually make something of themselves, that--”

  The other Faedemon held up a hand, silencing the Master, “You don’t own them an explanation. He’s just trying to get a reaction out of you. Best not to indulge bullies.”

  “Just kill them already," Vengürd sneered, straightening his shirt indignantly. “I have plans.”

  “You don’t have to be here.”

  “I think I’d like to watch.”

  “Suit yourself.” The Faedemon replied with a smirk.

  A loud hum filled the hilltop, drowning out the sounds of nature; A violent, overbearing hum like that of an aggravated swarm. Time seemed to slow as, from between his fingers, a familiar darkness began to pull the light from the area, even before the full weapon had formed. The noise from a spell of this magnitude was so loud that shouldn’t even hear the next words her murder spoke as he raised the weapon high, blotting out the summer sun in a deathly eclipse.