Page 193 of The Demon Tide

We zoom over the grayed borderline and Raz’zor darts through a gap in the Shadow-net dome rising from it. My emotions tighten as I take in the pillars of Shadow smoke coursing up from the decimated tent city, but then a spot of relief lights—I can make out mist-obscured people rushing toward several varg-rune-encircled holes leading directly into the earth, a green-hued Vu Trin soldier who I’m certain is Bleddyn ushering people into one of them, Smaragdalfar aiding people into the others.Subland escape routes.

We soar up over the Vo Forest and I narrow my gaze in Vogel’s direction as another swarm of Mages on dragonback pour out of the mountain’s gash, zooming toward us. My pulse quickens as I sense Raz’zor struggling to restore his still-depleted power while Or’myr draws in gasping breaths, frantically pulling on the purple-hued magic trapped in his center.

My heart in my throat, I raise my wands, readying my attack and praying Lukas survives it...as the mammoth horde zooms past us, soaring toward Voloi.

Astonishment lashes through me as I’m flooded by wave upon wave of the Mages’ corrupted Shadow affinities as they soar past, dazed by their powerful auras of dark fog, dead branches, writhing vines, and grayed ice and fire.

My Black Witch.

My affinity lines give a violent jostle forward, a rasp torn from my lungs as I’ve the bloodcurdling sensation of Vogel fisting hold of my lines and wrenching them toward the Vo Mountains.

And then I spot him.

A tiny figure, garbed in Mage black, stands in the center of a stony ledge at the base of the mountaintop’s long crater. Mages on dragons stream out to either side of him, along with the Shadow tide and rising Shadow veil, Vogel poised in the center of it all, as if he’s cleared a space for us. As if he’s cleared a space forme.

Elloren.

My fist tightens around my wands in response to his smooth voice in my head. Raz’zor accelerates toward him, my power surging as my mind empties itself of all but one bright lethal thought—Bring Vogel down. Gritting my teeth, I arc back my wand hand—then pause midspell, a surge of horror igniting as not only Lukas’s bound form is dragged onto the ledge by two Shadow Mages...but Sparrow Trillium’s, as well.

My chest constricts with emotion as I take in Sparrow’s struggling, grayed form, my pulse slamming with a painful intensity, clear that Lukas would survive my inferno, but it would incinerate Sparrow. As if sensing my panicked indecision, Raz’zor frantically throws his wings out as the world blips out of sight, replaced by a dark, murky haze.

Raz’zor struggles to slow us, wings flapping in the dark while I blink against the haze’s sudden sting in my eyes, desperate to locate Lukas and Sparrow as I cough against the vapor’s acrid taste. Raz’zor angles his flight pattern straight up, perhaps in an attempt to burst through the top of the blinding Shadow, but there’s seemingly no end to it.

Bindings lash around my body, the breath forced from my lungs as my wands are wrenched from my hand and I’m yanked away from Or’myr and Raz’zor with a force so violent I’m thrown into the churning mist at terrifying speed. Hurtling downward, my imprisoning bindings cinch tight as I accelerate into free fall.

A hard upward jerk on my bindings forces a cry from my throat as I’m yanked skyward, suddenly bobbing in the Shadow like a pendulum as the smoke dissipates. My gaze darting frantically around, I take in the nightmarish situation. I’m hanging in a net of Shadow, tethered to a gray dragon above me. Pulse thundering, I search through the lingering fingers of smoke and spot Raz’zor and Or’myr also caught in Shadow nets, Or’myr’s captured form dangling from another dragon, Raz’zor’s huge pale form tethered to four.

All of us being flown straight toward Marcus Vogel, his Shadow Wand clasped in his upraised hand.

CHAPTER TWO

BLACKWITCHRISING

Elloren Grey

Vo Mountains

Like a sack of grain, I’m dumped onto the rocky mountaintop ledge near Vogel’s booted feet, my vine-bound body slamming onto stone.

Gold sears across my grayed vision, Wyvernfire scorching through me as I sense Yvan drawing ever nearer. I blink the gold away to find Sparrow’s bound form before me, the fear in her eyes so stark I’m hit by a fresh jolt of panic. Frantic, I turn toward Lukas and meet his gray-glowing eyes.

“Lukas!” I cry, my heart blazed through with the yearning to break through to him, but his gaze remains chillingly blank.

For a moment, my emotions splinter around the horror of seeing him so cruelly altered. I can barely think past it. But then a shock wave of animalistic rage surges through me.

Tensing every muscle against my Shadow bindings, I draw power into my lines, ready to blast my full aura against Vogel’s Shadow tether. But before I can move against Vogel, his magic clenches in and I wheeze out a huff, his power a suffocating coil.

Vogel slices his Wand through the air above me, and vines dart from his Wand’s tip, webbing me to the stone like a captured insect. A portion of the bindings slither upward, gagging me and pinning my head to the floor, another portion whipping around my blades and emptying them onto the ledge, where they’re hastily retrieved by surrounding soldiers.

I strain to look past Lukas and Sparrow as I mentally hurl out—Raz’zor!

An answering blaze of crimson fire scalds my lines. I tilt my head backward, Or’myr and Raz’zor just behind me near the ledge’s edge, also webbed to stone. Raz’zor is snarling against the cords muzzling his jaw shut, his eyes two enraged coals, as Or’myr glares murderously at Vogel, his wand gone.

Yvan’s incoming fire surges hotter and desperation strikes through my gut.

Yvan! NO!

Vogel steps nearer, his tall form eerily backlit by Shadowfire torches placed just inside the mountain’s cavernous maw, several Shadow Mages striding close to bracket him. I meet his intent gaze, quivering with rage. Excitement flickers in his eyes’ pale green depths and I want to spring free and claw them out, barely able to think past my aura’s violent flare.

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