The second the word left my mouth, the room erupted.

  Bruised but unbound, the strongest professors lunged forward, fury replacing their grief for Hopsander. Some attacked in human form; others shifted mid-lunge into monstrous infusions.

  Snarls, roars, and war cries filled the smoky air. For the first time since Hopsander fell, real hope sparked in my chest.

  “We’re not alone,” Fern hissed, his snake-head tail poised.

  Noah rose higher, surveying the chaos.

  “Prove yourselves!” he called to the other magebloods. “Don’t disappoint me.” He leaned back midair, as if lounging on an invisible chair.

  Al, our bearded Beast Mastery professor, exploded into his infusion—no surprise, a beetle. Thick chitin plates locked into place around his body, pincers formed on his head, and his fists swelled into armored battering rams. He barreled toward the runic circle, where the black-hooded man and the elven girl frantically carved fresh lines to restore it.

  “Oh no, you don’t!” Al bellowed, slamming his horned forehead into the half-repaired runes. The floor cracked. The elven girl shrieked.

  “You worthless bug!” she spat, electricity crackling in her palms. A jolt of lightning speared into Al’s torso. He stumbled, mandibles clacking wildly before collapsing—unconscious, but breathing.

  She moved in to finish him, but a snakelike figure darted between them, hissing.

  Professor Srilick, now fully infused, was a super-sized version of himself—a serpentine beast with a humanoid torso and a ten-foot-long, coiled tail. He spat globs of poison at the elf. She yelped, twisting away, flicking lightning in retaliation. Sparks burst where she moved, but Srilick was ready, tracking her by scent, not sight. Their battle raged in bursts of agility and venom.

  Meanwhile, the black-hooded man murmured incantations. White spears of light materialized around him—a hailstorm of projectiles.

  “Scatter!” a teacher shouted.

  Most dove aside, but a few were struck, groaning as they crumpled. The black-hooded man advanced, scanning for a chance to redraw the circle, but more professors swarmed him, forcing him into defense.

  Across the room, Lotrick hovered midair. Our eyes locked for a split second. Fear? Guilt? Both?

  Then he turned to fend off Laska and Professor Gallon, her whip lashing while Laska’s sword slashed at his hands. He conjured flames to block them, but I saw his face twist every time he struck back.

  I helped usher the injured professors toward the exits. Mel, Sora, and the others did the same before sprinting back into the fight.

  Mel and Sora rushed to aid Srilick, while Luna and Tevin closed in on the black-hooded man.

  My tail, Fern, twitched as he watched Lotrick.

  “Focus,” I snapped. His snake head jerked back, gripping the cursed sword tighter.

  A primal growl tore from my throat. My eyes locked onto Noah, still hovering like a god of war. Below him, golden chains pinned Galina, Waelid, Piqah, Jiho, and Jako. They struggled, spitting curses, but Noah had layered too many bonds.

  “Noah!” I roared. “Face me!”

  I torpedoed through the air.

  He didn’t flinch. With a wave of his hand, a dozen golden coils lashed toward me.

  I braced, arms up—the chains slammed into me midair. Pain flared, but I kept flying, claws gripping the metal, ripping them apart. Our synergy made my strength near monstrous.

  Noah’s icy gaze flickered in mild surprise.

  “You’re more durable than I expected,” he mused. “Perhaps there’s something to a voidblood twin soul. But some stones are better left unturned.”

  He raised a hand. Half a dozen golden filaments lunged forward like living whips.

  I twisted midair, dodging as I circled closer.

  Fern deflected several with his sword, his grip firm. Another lashed toward my head. I ducked. It grazed my horns, slicing off a chunk of hair in a hiss of energy.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Close one!” Fern shouted, heart pounding in sync with mine.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the freed professors pressing the advantage. They rushed the black-hooded man and elven girl, aiming to wreck whatever scraps remained of the circle. The floor erupted in dust as another professor—a massive rhino-like figure—stampeded across it, further ruining the lines. The elven girl screamed curses, a few shards of electricity crackling helplessly off her fingertips.

  Laska’s roar cut through the bedlam. She sprang at Lotrick, claws raking. Her feline form was swift, but he deflected her with a swirl of ice that froze her midair for a moment. Professor Gallon’s whip cracked overhead; he ducked it. Unlike the others, he wasn’t fighting to kill.

  “This is looking bad, sir. We should leave—we can use the frog-man’s body,” the black-hooded man yelled, flinging another wave of magic.

  Laska broke free of the ice and pounced. This time, her claws connected. Blood spattered the floor. Lotrick shrieked, twisting midair, his left arm nearly severed. He barely had time to reach for it before Laska finished the job. His arm hit the ground with a sickening thud.

  “Lotrick!” Fern shouted.

  The distraction cost me.

  Noah lunged, chain-whips swirling. I caught three with my claws, but another slashed my thigh. I staggered, Fern lashing behind me to deflect another strike. A final chain soared for my face. I was too slow. It struck my forehead, sending me crashing to the stone floor. Bones cracked. Blood spilled. My head spun.

  He’s too fast.

  I forced myself to my feet just as Noah floated above, smiling.

  A chain hammered into my back, driving me to my knees.

  Fern groaned, dropping the sword from his mouth.

  Blood dripped from my leg, face, and arms. My breath came in ragged gasps.

  Was this it?

  Noah hovered over me, gold filaments trailing from his fingers. His smile was razor thin.

  “Erik, Erik, Erik. Now I remember you,” he said mockingly. “It was hard, since your real body is gone, and this face . . .” He waved dismissively. “But you know how I recognize you? You’re stubborn. Always were.”

  He snapped his fingers. Chains coiled around me.

  I gritted my teeth as Fern thrashed, bound tight.

  ‘Erik, I can’t breathe—’

  Noah twisted his fingers. The chains constricted. My lungs clenched in sympathy. Would we die together, just as we’ve lived?

  I struggled. Chimera strength bulged in my limbs, but the bindings held firm. Noah hadn’t even broken a sweat.

  “Let go!” I gasped, thrashing.

  Noah tsked. “An annoyance from my old life, wearing the face of a worthless Cinder boy.” He leaned in. “Time to end you properly.”

  A blur streaked across the warehouse—Lotrick, ignoring his bloody stump, flying toward us with desperate eyes.

  “Fern!” he shouted.

  Noah’s gaze snapped up, fury flashing. “Traitor.”

  Lotrick flew, summoning a bright blue blade in his remaining hand. He slashed at the chains binding my tail—but Noah was faster. Another coil of golden filaments lashed toward his chest.

  ‘No!’ Fern screamed.

  Lotrick twisted midair, cutting through part of the chains. I wrenched a claw free, ignoring the pain, and rippedthrough the bindings choking Fern’s snake form.

  My vision blurred. Through the haze, I spotted a glimmer—the cursed sword. Fern had dropped it.

  I reached out with trembling claws, fingers brushing the hilt. The sharp ringing filled my ears as I gripped it.

  Noah sneered and flew toward me. I forced myself to my feet, swinging—

  A hundred chains slammed me back to the ground, pinning me in place, sword still in hand.

  Lotrick landed beside me, turning to face Noah. No longer a thirteen-year-old arrogant brat—he was our savior.

  “Let . . . him . . . go,” Lotrick growled.

  With a single, precise slash, his glowing blade cut through the chains.

  I surged up, raising the cursed sword. The ringing in my ears was unbearable, but I needed something strong.

  This sword helped me defeat the Guardian.

  It was strong.

  I needed it now.

  Fern? My tail hung limp. Where are you?

  Noah reeled back. Golden energy crackled around him, and black venom oozed from his ears. His eyes burned with unimaginable fury. “You . . . traitor . . .”

  He looked not at me, but straight at Lotrick. Noah closed his eyes and he let out a long breath.

  “I should have known not to trust a Landaluce.” Then, with a sudden jolt, his eyes shot open and he unleashed a torrent of golden threads—thicker, more jagged. They whipped forward in a lethal flurry. I barely had time to shout a warning.

  “Lotrick, look out!” I shouted.

  But before the threads could strike home, something tore free inside my chest. A bright, greenish aura exploded out of me. For a heartbeat, I thought I’d died. I fell to my knees, my limbs went cold, the chimera form wavered, and then . . . I felt . . . empty.

  I realized it wasn’t me dying—it was Fern. In an instant, he separated from our shared body, ripping his soul free and forming a projection of a physical form.

  Fern stood across from me. His translucent, glowing body was holding back all the chains Noah unleashed with one hand. And in the other, the dagger he, his father, and his brother had made. Lightcutter.

  The chains danced in the air for a moment before Fern’s ghostly green form closed his hand. Then they shattered.

  Fern stood there in front of his little brother, translucent and glowing, a silhouette of green light. A silhouette of himself. His eyes shone white-hot, and the swirling black smoke parted around him as if repelled by this raw surge of soul energy.

  Fern raised his glowing blade toward Noah. A bright, shocking burst of power arced around Fern’s spirt-form body. The threads around Waelid and the upperclassmen snapped and evaporated like spun sugar in a flame. The whole warehouse seemed to vibrate under the collision of Noah’s spell and Fern’s hand.

  My mouth dropped open. I could only stare up at that flickering specter of my friend, my cotenant soul, Fern.

  Noah froze, eyes wide with shock. His speechlessness spread through the entire room.

  For a moment, everything stilled—the swirling dust, the pained groans of the injured, the crackle of the runic circle. Time itself seemed to hold its breath.

  Then the blazing white light in Fern’s eyes pulsed once—

  —and the world went dark.