The corridor fell silent. Only the green glow of the specters flickered against the walls.
Kára spun Kazak'Thur in her hands. The hammer shaft still vibrated.
—I can't block spiritual attacks.
—I know.
—Then don't block them.
—That's what I'm saying.
The seven specters floated in a tight formation. Behind them stood the original. His right knee swollen and twisted. He leaned against his sword. The burn scars across his face glowed with the same green light.
Kára closed her eyes. When she opened them again, they were completely white. Her hair rose, crackling blue. And when she spoke, the voice was doubled.
—NOW.
The first three specters attacked simultaneously.
Kára spun the hammer and unleashed an electrical barrier. Sparks lashed across the corridor. The specters slammed into the barrier and screamed. They didn't fall. They pushed against it. Cracks spread through the shield.
One specter pierced through and dragged its blade across Kára's shoulder.
No blood. No wound. Only freezing cold racing through her entire arm.
Kára growled. She twisted her wrist, and the barrier exploded outward. The three specters were hurled away.
One shattered against the wall.
The other two rose again.
Kára didn't wait. She hurled Kazak'Thur toward the right wall. Blue sparks erupted. She vanished.
Then reappeared beside the hammer's handle and brought it crashing down vertically onto the nearest specter.
The spirit split in half.
The third specter turned and slashed toward her chest.
Kára discharged lightning beneath her feet and launched herself sideways. The blade grazed her armor.
Another chill spread through her body.
Her fingertips went numb.
—Every hit drains you —Kazak'Thur warned, the double voice echoing through the corridor.
—I noticed.
Kára spun on her heel and swept the hammer low. An electrical shockwave hurled the third specter against the wall and pinned it there while blue sparks tore through its body.
It vanished.
The remaining four specters moved simultaneously.
They flanked her. Two from each side.
Kára planted Kazak'Thur into the floor. An electrical rune burned itself into the stone.
The specters closed in.
Sweat rolled down her neck.
Her fingers tightened around the hammer.
The moment the first specter stepped onto the rune, a pillar of blue light erupted upward and pierced through all four of them.
Two disintegrated instantly.
The other two were thrown backward, their spectral glow flickering violently.
Kára staggered to her feet. Her legs trembled. The doubled voice cracked for a moment.
—The mana.
—Hold on.
—I don't have much left.
The two surviving specters rose again. Green mist clung to them like new skin. The original swordsman watched from behind, his swollen knee still bent, his hand steady on the sword's hilt.
Waiting.
Kára lashed the air with the hammer. A whip of lightning burst from the handle and cracked against the first specter. The spirit twisted violently inside the electric current, but it didn't disappear.
The second specter used the opening.
It lunged from the side and drove its blade into Kára's hip.
She felt the pull instantly.
As though something were being ripped directly out of her bones.
Her left leg went numb to the knee.
She stumbled.
Blindly, she swung the hammer backward.
The weapon slammed into the specter's chest and crushed it into the floor. A concentrated burst of lightning exploded through the spirit.
It screamed and vanished.
The last specter floated three meters away.
Kára tried to lift Kazak'Thur.
Her arms barely responded.
The doubled voice was now only a whisper.
—Kára.
—I know.
—You're out of mana. It's consuming your life force now.
—How much time do I have?
—End the possession. Now.
Kára clenched her teeth. The white glow in her eyes flickered. Her hair lost its brightness.
The possession ended.
She leaned against the wall. Her hands shook uncontrollably.
Then the original swordsman raised his head.
He was smiling.
He lifted one hand.
From the floor, from the cracks in the walls, from every corner where the specters had fallen, green mist began to rise.
The fragments drifted toward him.
The final specter fused back into the original blade.
The sword absorbed everything.
Its glow turned white.
Two new specters emerged from the blade.
Compact.
Brilliant.
Twice as dense as before.
—The energy of the fallen —Kazak'Thur said.— Now they possess all of it.
—The other seven were weaker. These two have everything concentrated.
—Yes.
Kára pushed herself away from the wall. Her knees nearly failed beneath her.
The two specters attacked together.
Kára blocked the first strike with the hammer shaft.
The second blade sliced across her forearm.
No blood.
The cold surged all the way to her shoulder.
Her fingers loosened.
She barely held onto the hammer.
The first specter attacked again.
Its blade grazed her ribs.
Another violent pull struck her chest.
Kára doubled over.
The air wouldn't come.
—They're stealing vitality —Kazak'Thur warned.— Every strike heals him.
Kára lifted her head.
She looked at the original swordsman.
The swelling in his knee was fading.
The skin was smoothing itself.
—They're emptying me out.
—Yes.
The specter on the left lunged again.
Kára rolled across the floor. Stone scraped against her back.
The second specter was already waiting in her path.
Its blade pierced her sternum.
Kára felt the strongest pull yet.
As though something alive was being ripped from the center of her chest.
She collapsed forward.
Her hands softened the fall.
Kazak'Thur ended up trapped beneath her body.
The original swordsman raised his hand. The two specters withdrew and merged back into the sword. The blade absorbed the mist again. Its glow became blinding.
The swordsman's knee fully healed.
He planted his foot firmly.
No limp.
Then he advanced.
Kára tried to stand.
Her arms wouldn't move.
The swordsman stopped in front of her. The burn scars on his face glowed faintly.
He raised the sword.
A body slammed into him from the left.
Draven.
Massive.
Covered in dust and dried blood.
Unarmed.
He grabbed the swordsman by the shoulders and hurled him into the wall. Stone cracked from the impact. The green sword fell to the floor. Its glow flickered.
—NOW! —Draven roared.
Kára lifted her head. She saw the sword lying on the ground. Saw Draven struggling with the swordsman.
The elf drove his fingers into Draven's eyes.
Draven screamed.
He still didn't let go.
Kára threw Kazak'Thur toward the ceiling. The hammer spun and embedded itself between two beams.
Blue sparks exploded.
She vanished.
Then reappeared above them, her fingers closing around the hammer's handle.
She launched herself downward.
Her entire body behind the strike.
The hammer crashed into the swordsman's chest.
The crack echoed through the entire corridor.
Blue lightning exploded across the walls.
The green sword shattered into three pieces beneath the shockwave. Fragments flew through the air and landed without light.
The swordsman tore free from Draven and was hurled backward. His body smashed against the wall and fell motionless.
Kára dropped to her knees.
Kazak'Thur slipped from her fingers and bounced across the floor.
Dark.
Silent.
—Kára.
—Shut up.
The swordsman's chest cracked open. Green light burst outward like pressurized steam, illuminating the entire corridor.
The glow struck the walls and reflected in Kára's eyes.
Then the Grimorio appeared in the air.
Black pages.
Green edges pulsing softly.
Slowly rotating.
Kára stared at it.
She didn't think.
The Grimorio pulled at her.
Warmth spread through her chest.
A silent command.
She crawled toward it.
Her fingers lifted on their own.
—What is that? —Draven struggled halfway upright, one hand still covering his eyes. His voice sounded rough. Alert.
Kára didn't answer.
Her fingers touched the cover.
Green light rushed up her arm.
A dry cold.
Like the wind of a forge when the doors open.
Something settled inside her chest.
The Grimorio vanished.
Kára rested her forehead against the floor.
She didn't move.
—Get up.
—I'm getting there.
—Don't lie to me.
—I'm not.
Draven crawled closer and stopped beside her. His face was smeared with blood and dust.
—Are you alright?
—Ask me again in a minute.
Outside, the castle burned. Beasts screamed across the sky. Explosions thundered somewhere in the distant towers.
Kára pressed her fingers against the stone floor.
—Give me a minute.
—You have one. Not a second more.
She let out a laugh that hurt her ribs.
The minute began to run.