Taking a deep, calming breath, I close my eyes and focus on drawing energy from the earth, letting it flow through my veins and fill my body with wild, electrified tendrils of magic. When it feels like the power is about to burst through my skin, I carve a small opening, allowing it to seep out of me bit by bit, molding the thread of magic to the dimensions of my choosing, forcing the wild energy to bend to my will.

Fine tendrils of silver thread spread through the air, shooting across the land and opening up the skies as it searches for the six creatures I need to complete the bond.

Nya is the first to materialize, followed by Honey, Comet, Echo, Bo, and finally, Syn—slithering out from the shadows with distrust shining in her wide gold eyes.

Just like with the horde or arachnyx, I force several separate tendrils of magic into the air, directing the strands beneath their skin and into the corners of their souls, threading my magic between the pathways in their nervous system.

My power surges, ordering the animals closer without a single word spoken. The six of them comply, rushing over in varying degrees of speed and method, but each moving with the same level of urgency. They crowd around Abaddon’s corpse in a half circle, muscles taut and gazing upward with empty silver eyes, awaiting their next command.

“Wait there,” I murmur, turning my focus to the severed chest lying in front of me. Varys forgot to put Abaddon’s heart back in the chest the last time, which gave life to the six pieces. So I should…

Without thinking, I plunge my hand into the base of his sternum, squelching through muscle and tendon as I shove my hand up under his rib cage, searching for the pulsing golden organ.

I rip the heart out with a massive grunt, sitting back on my heels as I admire the shiny object. Just like earlier, the heart continues to beat—albeit weakly—but it gives me a single thread of hope to cling onto.

I place the heart gently on the ice next to my feet, watching it for a few moments to ensure it’s still pulsing before turning my attention back to the familiars. They’re sitting in the same spot, unblinking and utterly still—like six little statues.

Without thinking, knowing I don’t have much more time, I force my magic out of my veins, driving it through the air and into the six creatures surrounding Abaddon’s corpse.

My power threads through the spaces in their souls, weaving each jagged edge together and bonding their beings together for all eternity. With each careful stitch, a fraction of my own soul is woven into the creases, offering up a fraction of my power—my magic—to the demons I love so much.