A gray dragon zooms in low, skimming the tops of the purple Wisteria trees. Thierren yanks Sparrow against his chest and raises his wand at the same time the gray-eyed Mage on the dragon’s back lifts his wand, horror leaping in Sparrow as she takes in the incoming dragon’s four eyes.

Thierren throws out his arm, and a blast of air whooshes from his wand, spearing toward the Mage and dragon and punching them back in a spray of silver sparks. The dragon rights itself, and Shadow Mage and dragon surge forward once more as the Mage flicks out his wand and a bolt of dark fire streaks toward them.

Thierren spells out another blast of wind, diverting the fire to explode the Wisteria grove beside them in a silver-sparking inferno as the dragon lands before Sparrow and Thierren with a concussive thud.

Sparrow is suddenly thrust to the side by Thierren’s insistent shove. “Go! Get under Effrey’s shield!” he growls.

She hesitates for a split second, then sprints toward Effrey and Mii Vun as more broken dragons stream in. Another blast of dark fire to her left sends Sparrow darting sideways and almost losing her footing in her shoes’ slim heels. A thick tide of smoke rolls through the trees, Sparrow’s eyes widening as it morphs the Wisterias’ purple coloration to gray and quickly overtakes the plaza as three more broken dragons zoom down from above. They land around Sparrow, their repeated impacts reverberating through her as the chest-high gray fog envelopes her body.

Her eyes meet those of the nearest Mage, his gray-glowing eyes burning into her through the thickening mist. Horror grips Sparrow’s chest as a chilling grin spreads over his mouth—

Tilor!

Her young tormentor from the Fae Islands—one of the main reasons Sparrow and Effrey risked death by kraken to escape to the continent.

Terror spiking, Sparrow scuttles backward.

“I found you!” Tilor sneers as he dismounts with otherworldly speed, his gaze raking lasciviously over Sparrow’s tight dress. “Look at you now, you little whore.”

Outrage rips through Sparrow and she lifts her blade only to find its runes blinked out, her hue shockingly grayed.

Tilor raises his wand arm, thrusts it forward, teeth gleaming. A tendriling whip made of Shadow snaps from his wand’s tip and lashes around her wrist, wresting the blade from her hand. Sparrow cries out as another whiplike binding lashes around her ankles and she topples, yanked to the plaza’s stone.

All sight cuts out as she hits the tile and the Shadow fog closes over her.

“Thierren!” she cries as the bindings encircle her body and she’s wrenched upward like a netted animal.