the Sealing.
I’m paralyzed, my legs unsteady beneath me. Because I know what the true target of the Vu Trin invasion is.
Me.
I turn to Lukas to find him staring at the scene with a stunned look, and when he turns to me, his eyes flash with a momentary devastation.
His whole family.
“Lukas...your family...”
“Stop.” His expression goes hard, the word silencing me. “We just got the diversion we needed,” he rasps. He glances back at the huge fire that has engulfed his family’s estate. “And I don’t think the Vu Trin saw us.”
There’s another explosion at the edge of the churning blue flame, but this conflagration is gray flame that spits silver.
Bolts of silver-gray fire spear out of the strange conflagration toward the Vu Trin and their dragons, rapidly killing them, as a smoke-darkened figure emerges from the compact silver-gray inferno. His wand is raised as he slashes out shadowy fire, the Vu Trin’s runic weapons seeming powerless against him.
A fresh terror bolts through me.
Marcus Vogel.
Sweet Ancient One, no.
Impossibly, incredibly, and horrifically...he’s survived.
Marcus Vogel turns and scans the smoldering landscape, the many Mages and Vu Trin and dragons now lying dead, strewn all over the gardens.
Vogel raises his eyes toward the elevated wilds where we’re hidden as he lifts his Shadow Wand.
Lukas wrenches me to the ground and throws himself on top of me, gripping my head with both hands as he brings his mouth down hard on mine and forces all his affinity power into my shield in one overpowering surge.
I clutch Lukas’s arms, pulling on his power as it spirals tightly around my lines and forces every last shred of my magic down behind it.
I gasp as I’m hit by a blast of Vogel’s Shadow power from clear across the grounds and through the wilds, my whole body shuddering against Lukas’s as Vogel’s magic streams over us like an inescapable tide and grays out my vision, even as Lukas sends magic through me and holds on tight.
And then...the tide of Shadow magic passes over us and streams into the wilds, fanning out in a continued search for me as Shadow fire roars and the whole world changes.
CHAPTER EIGHT
ESCAPE
ELLOREN GREY
Sixth Month
Valgard, Gardneria
I cling to Lukas’s hand as we rush uphill through the woods, sticks and brush scraping against my cheeks and arms, desperation fueling my steps. The whoosh of wingbeats sounds from above, and I duck as three sapphire forms shoot by overhead.
More Vu Trin dragons!
Lukas adjusts our course, and I do my best to push through a painful stitch in my side, my lungs feeling like they’re full of glass shards as we run, the red beadwork on my skirts repeatedly catching on brush and tearing away whenever I yank up my hem to free my steps.
The roar of dragons and the boom of explosions coming from the direction of Valgard’s ports spike my pulse, my heart attempting to punch a hole through my chest as we pick up our pace and Lukas meets my panic-stricken gaze with a steely look of his own.
We rush over a road that cuts through the forest, then sprint back into the wrathful trees as another explosion sounds. I keep hold of Lukas’s hand as we run up a wooded hill, then down a steep embankment where I briefly lose my footing and Lukas catches me as I start to skid.
After righting my balance, we dart toward a hemlock grove, and I startle and slide to an abrupt stop alongside Lukas as a hooded Gardnerian figure emerges from the shadows of the towering evergreen trees—a young man with a severe, elegant face, blistering urgency in his pine green eyes.
Thierren!
He motions us forward, and we follow him into the hemlock shadows and around a large, rocky outcropping to find three horses saddled and ready to go.
Mahogany-haired Malthorin Thoroughbreds. Built for sustained speed. Travel packs hanging from their sides.
Thierren tosses Lukas a stuffed sack, which Lukas deftly catches then pulls clothing out of and hands a simple black woolen tunic and dark riding skirt to me.
“Where are Sparrow and Effrey?” I ask. “And Aislinn?”
“Safe,” Thierren reassures me.
“Put these on,” Lukas directs as I take the clothing. He gestures with a sweep of his finger along his face. “Wipe off all that face paint. And get rid of the jewelry.”
“What happened?” Thierren asks Lukas, seeming rattled, as Lukas throws off his own silk red-embroidered tunic. There are weapons strapped all over Lukas’s body. More weapons than he had on last night, most of them Noi rune blades marked