Page 198 of What Blooms from Death

I shook the warning off.

“The swords…” I said, finally breaking free of my stupor and looking to the door.

Aleks nodded, but neither of us moved right away, as if struck simultaneously by the weight of what we were about to do—orattemptto do.

I still had far too many questions.

Far too many doubts.

But we’d had two main goals when we’d stepped into this realm: To stop Lorien, and to keep Noctaris from fading beyond repair before it was too late. We were perhaps moments away from accomplishing at least one of those things. I had to do what I could with this orb—to pour magic into it, somehow—and start rebalancing things. I refused to think beyond this.

With renewed determination, I marched to the doorway and reached for Grimnor.

Sounds of distant shouting stopped me in my tracks.

My gaze jerked to the bridge, seeking Captain Voss. He emerged from the doorway of the palace, his eyes trained on the yard below. His gaze was stoic, but his lips were tightly pursed—as if he’d just held in a gasp.

I followed his line of sight, and I didn’t bother holding in my gasp when I saw what he did: A host of enemy soldiers pouring into the yard.

My brother and some of the others had obviously seen my signal—they’d joined my own search party, swelling the number to at least twenty—but they were still outnumbered.

I took a few steps toward Captain Voss, panic gripping my throat. “We have to help them!”

He moved to follow this order while I turned and grabbed my sword. Aleks already had Luminor in his grasp. He was standing on the very edge of the bridge, watching the violence unfold. But he hesitated to follow the captain—

And so did I.

Because the Aetherstone still beckoned.

I bit back a curse, knowing I couldn’t fight every battle at once, yet unable to make myself abandon my soldiers so readily—not when the number of enemies below seemed to have doubled in the span of seconds. “There are somany…”

“You didn’t think I’d finish off this last part of my plan all on my own, did you?” came a cold, amused voice.

I twisted around, heart leaping into my throat.

And there he stood on the other side of the bridge, leaning against a broken slab of the palace wall: Lorien Blackvale.

A visceral reaction curled through me at the mere sight of his smiling face. A dozen different responses to his words flashed inmy mind, each more violent than the last—he sauntered forward before I could decide on any of them.

“Now, while they stay busy below, let’s step back inside and finish what you started, shall we?” he said, nodding to the Aetherstone’s room.

Aleks moved between us, lifting the Sword of Light, pointing it threateningly at Lorien’s chest.

Lorien’s gaze drifted lazily toward him. “Don’t worry. You can come, too—you and I are far from finished, anyway.”

“We’re not going anywhere with you,” I snapped.

“It wasn’t aninvitation,” he replied, lifting his hands.

My first instinct was to grip my sword more tightly, expecting him to try and rip it from my grasp.

Aleks held just as tightly to Luminor.

But rather than trying to steal the swords back, Lorien merely struck out with a wave of shadowy magic—mymagic—possessing the blades and sending them hurtling backwards into the room, dragging us with them.

Aleks and I both hit the ground with a jarring thud, our bodies crashing into the cold, unforgiving stone floor.

The door began to close as soon as the swords crossed the threshold, two great, wooden slabs groaning and shifting into place with a deafening screech.

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