The grass was gone…no, it had become shrivelled, blackened tussocks. Black shapes covered the ground. Some of them were moving. Twitching and writhing. The source of the screaming. He tasted bile as he realized what they were.

Men. The fighters he had been walking with a moment ago.

He hauled himself to his feet. At once he understood what had happened. The burned grass and dead—dying—men formed a long, wide line back toward the enemy. A sorcerer’s strike. Deadly magic.

No training could save a soldier from this.

He had been fortunate to have been at the edge of it. His armor and heavy clothing, and falling face down in the mud, had saved him, though his ears burned fiercely. Looking down, he saw the outstretched hand of the Pentadrian who had tripped him. The man’s face was charred as black as his clothes.

Setting his jaw, he picked up his sword, still warm from the strike, and started toward his less-fortunate comrades.

No link between Auraya and the other White had ever been this strong or complete.

They worked as one, their powers directed by Juran. It was surprisingly easy. There was no imposing of will. They simply opened their minds to him and followed his instructions. In return, he had four extra minds and pairs of eyes to call upon when making decisions, and four extra positions from which to attack.

It was proving to be an effective way to coordinate their efforts. And it was almost thrilling to work so smoothly with the others. No misunderstandings. No mistakes.

Yet they still had limitations. The enemy had already found Mairae’s, and at one point she had been forced to leave soldiers vulnerable in order to protect herself. Their deaths had distressed Mairae, and shocked them all, but their linked sense of purpose ensured they did not falter.

Rian, too, was struggling. Juran was constantly forced to intervene whenever one of the more powerful black sorcerers attacked Rian or Mairae. Auraya had managed to defend herself against all attacks by the enemy sorcerers so far, but she knew the Pentadrian leader was stronger than she was. She, too, would need help if he threw all his power at her.

He hadn’t, however. Perhaps he did not have enough strength to protect himself as well as attack her. He might still do it if the other black sorcerers shielded him.

She looked at her fellow White, all standing calmly, then at the Pentadrian sorcerers far across the valley.

Five black sorcerers, Auraya thought. Five White. A coincidence? No, more likely they waited until there were enough of them to face us.

At Juran’s instruction, Auraya let loose a blast of power at one of the sorcerers. She sensed a shift in the man’s shield as the other sorcerers helped him protect himself.