A shadow lunged at her from the darkness. She opened her mouth to scream, but something stung her chest. Her head went dizzy and the world went black.

Den Brodson threw Lillis over one thick shoulder and headed into the Well, following the Black Guard who was already carrying Lorelle back to Boura Fell.

Behind him, before the portal to Lillis and Lorelle’s room closed, the first screams broke the peaceful silence of the night as the others who’d come with Den to Dharsa opened more portals and an army of Mages, dahl’reisen, and Eld rushed into the Shining City.

Celieria ~ Orest

Bel snarled and hammered the revenants with powerful weaves of magic, all the while wishing he were slicing them to oozy green bits instead. Fey were used to fighting without magic. The Eld’s fondness for sel’dor made certain of that. Warriors were far less accustomed to fighting without their steel. And despite the Elves’ warning, he had to struggle to keep from reaching for his.

The foul stench of the revenants filled the air, making his eyes water and his stomach heave with each gagging breath. He was a master of all magics save Earth, which he could not weave at all, but his strength in all the other branches was exceptional. Even though his most powerful branch of magic, Spirit, was useless against these creatures, Bel was not.

He reached deep into the source of his power, drew it up into his body until his cells burned and light crackled around him in a glowing nimbus. He wove the vibrant threads into thick, sizzling ropes of power—Spirit, Fire, Air, Water—and fed those ropes into massive hundred-twenty-five-fold weaves that he and his brothers slammed into the endless wall of revenants.

The monstrous creatures shrieked their ear-splitting wails. Many of them dissolved, but more still came.

«Well done, kem’jeto,» Gaelen complimented after a particularly fierce assault. Gil and Gaelen fought nearby, along with a grim-eyed Lord Barrial, who had enough Elf-blood in him to make use of the Light arrows he’d retrieved from fallen Elves, and enough Fey blood to spin a decent weave or two of his own.

Tamsin Greywing was mounted on the back of a Shadar and firing Light arrows as fast as he could. No matter how many he fired, his quiver never ran dry. As Bel watched, a revenant leaped toward Greywing, but the Elf cried something in Elvish and his mount reared up to impale the flying revenant on its spiraling silver horn. The creature exploded, enveloping Greywing and the Shadar in a foul, but harmless cloud of black dust. The Elf coughed and spat, patted the Shadar’s shining neck in approval, then began firing off Light arrows again.

To the northeast of Bel’s position, Azrahn surrounded Farel and his dahl’reisen in a shadowy cloud that glowed dark red in the night. Instead of twenty-five quintets spinning hundred-twenty-five fold weaves, thirty-six chamas—groups of six dahl’reisen spinning six-fold weaves—combined their power into massive two-hundred-sixteen fold weaves that pounded the revenants like steely fists.

Where the Fey’s weave took out a dozen revenants in a single blow, the dahl’reisen’s weave dusted a full score. But even that was not enough. For each revenant they destroyed, four more erupted from the ground to take its place.

Fey weaves and Elvish arrows set the air over the battlefield aglow, yet still the revenants advanced, pushing the allies back handspan by handspan.

Bel swore as more boreholes burst open and even greater numbers of the revenants boiled out of the earth. The supply of the thrice-scorched things was jaffing limitless. In unison, as if directed by some inaudible voice, the back lines of the creatures scrambled over the front and began leaping through the air to land in the midst of the allied lines. Where they landed, screams erupted as razor-sharp claws sliced skin down to bone and acid slime dissolved flesh on contact.

«Retreat!» Bel cried. «Retreat!»

They scrambled back, dragging the wounded with them. Bel slammed vortexes of Air and Fire at the creatures to buy his brothers time, and sent a private spirit weave arrowing across the battlefield. «If you’re going to do something, Rain, now’s the time!»

«Damn it, ‘Jonn, Taj, are you ready yet?» Rain snapped the question across a private weave to the two warriors of Ellysetta’s quintet. «We’re getting slaughtered here! I don’t know how much longer we’ll be able to hold out.»

«Ready, Rain!» came the dual responses.

«Then tell them to go! Now!»

«Order given, Feyreisen.»

The ground began to shake and rumble. In Upper Orest, rocks broke off the surrounding peaks and tumbled down into the city. Rain saw buildings sway, and Eld Mages stagger as the ground beneath their feet became unstable.

The earth cracked. Steam vents opened in Upper Orest. Mages fell back in fear and began to flee as the rumbling of the earth grew more violent and the steam erupting from the vents grew hotter. With a sudden, deafening roar, the entire city of Upper Orest exploded into the sky. Black clouds of smoke and ash billowed upward and fountains of glowing orange molten rock shot into the air and began pouring down the mountainside into Lower Orest.

How do you get an enemy out of a fortified mountain haven?

You had Earth and Fire masters turn the mountain into an active volcano.

«They did it!» Ellysetta cried. «They really did it!»

His triumph and hers didn’t last long. Barely a chime later, the cries rang out on the Warrior’s Path.

«Dharsa is under attack! They’re in the city! Fey! To arms! Dharsa is under attack! They’re in the palace!»