Page 75 of Storms of His Wrath

Naya pulled out Oshrun’s maps and plans, the guidance on how to navigate the magical infrastructure.

It was so old that using the wrong entry point could destroy it, and then there’d be no way of transporting thennin-eellithito the Nnin-kaa Sands.

Studying the guidance, she drifted a little farther to the east. “Here,” Naya said, her voice tight with concern as she scanned the map again. “The magical convergence points are strongest there.”

Her modified crystal staff hummed with responsive power. Ancient symbols carved into the stone still held traces of power, dormant but ready to be awakened. She knelt beside a cracked fountain, her hands hovering over runes that pulsed faintly in the afternoon light.

“The convergence points are intact,” she reported. “Damaged, but functional. This will work for what you need.”

Akoro pushed himself upright, ignoring the way the movement sent fresh fire through his shoulder. “Then we begin.”

The binding circle required precise placement of symbols, each mark carved precisely. With his injured arm, the work was agonizing—every stroke of the blade sending fresh pain radiating through his chest. But Naya worked beside him, following his instructions with careful attention as she helped inscribe the complex designs into willing stone.

“Like this?” she asked, showing him a completed section of the binding circle.

“Perfect,” he said.

Above them the sky had begun to change. What had been clear blue was now streaked with strange colors—purple and gold swirling together in forms that hurt to look at directly. The approachingnnin-eellithistorm was making itself known, reality bending around the massive convergence of wild magic.

“It’s starting,” Naya said quietly, her modified staff humming with responsive power as she tested its connection to the approaching forces. “I can feel them out there—dozens of individualnnin-eellithibeginning to converge; they know.”

“How long do we have?” Akoro asked, his voice strained as he fought through the pain radiating from his shoulder.

“An hour, maybe less.” Naya’s expression was tense with concentration, her knuckles white where she gripped her staff. “They’re moving faster than I anticipated.”

Akoro carved the final line into the stone, his injured arm trembling with exhaustion. Blood had soaked through Naya’s makeshift bandages, but the circles were complete—three concentric rings carved into the ancient plaza stone, each following the same pattern Drennek had taught him as achild. Thirteen feet across at the widest point, with a shallow depression at the center where the wild magic would converge.

“It’s done,” he said, stepping back to survey their work.

The binding circles lay before them like a sleeping serpent, three lines carved deep into stone that had once channeled the power of an empire. The same three-cut technique he’d learned for flesh, now scaled up and adapted for stone. Instead of binding a person to proximity, these circles would bind the magic home.

“Are you ready?” she asked, moving to stand beside him. Her scent had shifted with the approaching storm, that familiar blend now sharp with determination and barely contained fear.

Akoro looked at her—this remarkable woman who had walked into his life and turned everything upside down. She held herself with quiet confidence despite the magnitude of what they were attempting, her brown eyes steady and sure. The sight of her filled him with fierce protectiveness and a deeper ache with emotions he’d never allowed himself to feel. “Ready.”

Naya stepped to the edge of the binding circle, raising her crystal staff toward the swirling sky. Power flowed through the carved channels, and the air around them began to vibrate with powerful barely contained magic. “I’m calling them now.”

Amazingly, he could sense her awareness explode outward like ripples in still water, touching every piece of wild magic within a hundred miles. She shouted in a language he hadn’t heard before, the words majestic and grave. Thennin-eellithiresponded instantly, their chaotic energies turning toward the plaza like iron filings drawn to a lodestone.

The first tendril of wild magic arrived within minutes—a crackling stream of purple fire that descended from the storm-torn sky to circle the binding circle with chaotic hunger. More followed, drawn by Naya’s irresistible call, until the air above them writhed with raw power.

“Now!” Naya shouted over the growing magical storm. “While they’re all here!”

Akoro stepped into the binding circle, drawing the ceremonial dagger from his belt—the same blade he’d used to mark Naya’s face, its steel gleaming with deadly purpose. The wild magic pressed against the circle’s boundaries, seeking entry, and he opened a small gap in the containment.

Nnin-eellithipoured into the depression at the circle’s heart like water into a basin. The convergence was immediate and overwhelming—more magical power than had ever existed in one place since the height of the Tri-Dynasty. Reality bent around them, and the very air screamed with the pressure of so much chaotic energy forced into such a small space.

Akoro’s injured shoulder blazed with fresh agony as he raised the dagger, preparing to complete the binding ritual. The three-cut pattern he’d carved into stone pulsed with contained energy, waiting for his blade to release it. Blood ran down his arm, mixing with the sweat that beaded on his face as he struggled to hold forces that could tear apart mountains.

“It’s too much!” Naya called from outside the circle. “The convergence is too strong!”

The wild magic bucked and writhed against the containment, and Akoro watched in horror as the binding circle began to crack under the pressure. Naya’s staff blazed with power outside the circle, but it wasn’t enough—there was simply too much chaotic energy for any external tool to control. Thennin-eellithiwould kill them both, consume them. He could sense their hunger for her, drawn to the Omega magic within her blood.

He bellowed at her, warning her to be careful but whether she could hear him, he couldn’t tell.

Then something shifted in Naya’s expression, understanding blazing across her features like lightning.

“Naya, what are you—” Akoro’s question died in his throat as she stepped directly into the maelstrom.

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