Running boot heels sound and Ni Vin bursts into the cavern. “The Vu Trin have come.” Her runic sword is drawn, her dark eyes fixing first on my newly purple form then snapping to Or’myr. “Get her to your Vonor, now!”

Or’myr grabs hold of my arm as he unsheathes his wand. We set off at a sprint, down the narrow corridor I traveled through with Yvan, Sage’s voice echoing off the walls behind us.

“Or’myr, whatever you do, keep her away from the trees!”

CHAPTER TEN

SHADOW BOUND

Lukas Grey

Shadow hive
The night before Xishlon

“Elloren Grey will gain control of her magic in a few hours’ time.”

Vogel’s words trigger a heated sear through Lukas’s power. He carefully sizes up the demonic envoy looming with Vogel over his prone, bound form, four Shadow Mage soldiers with glowing gray eyes bracketing them, silver torchlight flickering over them all.

Gray flashes through Lukas’s vision, the colors of the scene leeching out as his teeth clamp down around his Shadow gag, the need to throw off Vogel’s power gaining fearsome strength. Vogel smirks, which only stokes Lukas’s rebellious urgency higher, his heart pounding hard and hot against his ribs.

Because he knows he’s in a race against the powerful advance of this corruption.

A race to Elloren.

A race for the Eastern Realm.

Vogel’s smug, venomous will brushes against the edges of Lukas’s mind, against the defensive shield Lukas has woven there. He can feel Vogel’s presence, slick and slithering as he flexes against the Shadow bindings webbing him to his cell’s floor. He’s tried hurling his powerful aura against both his bindings and his cell’s Shadow bars. Tried every magical and non-magical angle to slip free.

But he needs a wand.

Make one mistake, Marcus, Lukas seethes as he holds Vogel’s infuriating stare, and I will gut you with my magic. Make just one mistake...

“The Black Witch has eluded us,” the demon-envoy states to Vogel, voice low and resonant as his red fire-eyes flicker. “We lost her trail in Voloi.”

“She’s being brought to the Vonor of the sorcerer Or’myr Syll’vir,” Vogel says, keeping his eyes pinned on Lukas. “He’s likely warded her.”

“He’s powerful,” the demon-envoy cautions. “And untrackable when he wants to be.”

“For the moment,” Vogel cuts back sharply, eyes flicking toward the demon before he lowers himself beside Lukas, the tip of his Wand tracing the curl of one of Lukas’s fastlines. “She’ll soon lay down her own track.”

Lukas gives a hard recoil against the contact as a helixing Shadow rises from the lines, a painful sting shooting over the fastmarks on his hands and wrists.

“By the time Elloren regains control over her power,” Vogel says, tracing the lines with an almost fond motion, his piercing eyes fixing back onto Lukas’s, “she’ll already be mine.”