Rain lashed against Amara's face as she stared at the hand reaching from the rubble.
For one suspended second, nobody moved.
Then the ruins exploded.
Stone burst outward.
A figure dragged himself from the wreckage, coughing blood and dust.
The young man.
Alive.
Amara's chest loosened so sharply it hurt.
She rushed forward.
But froze.
Because something else climbed out behind him.
Something enormous.
A black limb—too long, jointed wrong—hooked over the broken stone.
Then another.
It pulled itself upward slowly, like it was savoring their fear.
Amara's breath stopped.
The thing that emerged looked half-shadow, half flesh, stitched together from nightmare. A vaguely human torso twisted over a beast-like frame, its face hidden behind what looked like a mask of bone.
Its silver eyes opened.
The same silver.
The stranger's voice echoed in Amara's head.
It remembers you.
"No…" she whispered.
The young man pushed himself up, swaying.
"Run," he said again, harsher.
The creature smiled.
Actually smiled.
And spoke.
"Found you."
Amara's blood turned cold.
It knows me.
The other man stepped in front of her instantly. "Move."
But the creature was faster.
It lunged.
The young man intercepted it, crashing into the monster before it reached Amara. They rolled across wet stone in a brutal collision.
The creature slammed him into a fallen pillar.
Hard.
He cried out.
Amara moved before thinking.
"No!"
A pulse of light flashed from her hand.
The creature jerked back.
Surprised.
Everyone froze.
Even Amara.
She stared at her trembling fingers.
Did I—
The creature tilted its head.
Interested.
Not afraid.
Dangerous.
The other man grabbed her wrist. "Do not use it again unless you want to invite worse."
"What is that thing?"
His voice dropped.
"A Warden."
"A what?"
"Something meant to guard what lies beyond the Door."
Amara felt sick.
"And it came through because of me?"
"Yes."
The truth landed like a blade.
The Warden hissed and surged again.
This time the other man met it head-on.
Steel flashed.
Sparks flew.
The impact thundered through the ruins.
He was fast.
The creature was faster.
Its claws tore through stone like paper.
One strike nearly took his head.
The young man rose again despite obvious pain and joined the fight.
Together they pushed it back.
Barely.
Amara could see it now.
Neither of them was winning.
They were surviving.
For the moment.
The Warden laughed.
A terrible, broken sound.
"You protect the Key," it rasped. "As they did before."
Before?
Amara's pulse raced.
It knows about my bloodline.
The young man's expression darkened.
"Don't listen to it."
The creature's eyes shifted to him.
"And you…"
It smiled wider.
"Little heir."
Everything stopped.
Amara stared.
Heir?
The young man faltered.
Just enough.
The Warden drove a claw through his side.
Amara screamed.
He staggered back, blood spilling.
"No!"
Something inside her snapped again.
Not like before.
Sharper.
Focused.
Furious.
The rain around her seemed to still.
The world narrowed.
The Warden turned toward her.
And understood too late.
Light erupted from Amara's palm.
Not wild.
Directed.
A spear of radiant force struck the creature full in the chest and hurled it through the ruins.
Silence.
Everyone stared.
Amara breathed hard, horrified at herself.
The Warden rose from the debris.
Burned.
Smoking.
And smiling.
"Good."
It sounded pleased.
"Open further."
"No!" Amara shouted.
The creature crouched.
Preparing to strike.
Then—
A horn sounded.
Low.
Ancient.
Echoing through the rain.
The Warden froze.
Its silver eyes narrowed.
It looked toward the dark forest beyond the ruins.
Something was coming.
Something even it respected.
Or feared.
The creature stepped backward.
Impossible.
It was retreating.
"This is not over, Doorborn," it whispered to Amara.
Then it dissolved into shadow.
Gone.
Only rain remained.
And silence.
The young man collapsed.
Amara ran to him, dropping beside him in the mud.
Blood covered her hands instantly.
"No, no, stay awake."
He forced a weak smile.
"You really don't listen when people tell you to run."
Her eyes burned.
"This is not the time."
His hand weakly caught hers.
Then went slack.
Amara's heart stopped.
"He's unconscious," the other man said, kneeling quickly.
"Is he dying?"
A pause.
Too long.
"…If we stay here, yes."
Thunder rolled overhead.
Then movement in the trees.
Figures.
Dozens.
Approaching.
Amara looked up.
Not monsters.
People.
Armored.
Cloaked.
Silent.
An entire group surrounded the clearing.
At their front stood a woman with a long spear and silver markings over one eye.
She looked at Amara.
Then at the wounded young man.
Then knelt.
To Amara's shock.
The others followed.
One by one.
Bowing.
Amara stared in disbelief.
The woman lifted her gaze and said quietly
"We've been searching for you, Blood Heir."
Amara's pulse thundered.
What?
Before she could speak—
The woman looked at the unconscious young man and added—
And if he has awakened
Her expression darkened.
Then the war has started.