“On one condition,” I insist, the wrathful power inside me burgeoning. “If Vogel fully turns me...you and Raz’zor need to kill me.”

His expression conveys fresh horror, but then he gives me another quick, curt nod. Then he looks to Raz’zor, who nods once then flattens to ease Or’myr’s leap onto his back. My cousin’s arms come around my waist and he takes hold of one of Raz’zor’s ivory shoulder horns, his purple hand closing around it above mine. The fingers of his free wand hand slide over the crystals affixed to his wand as he sounds a spell.

An aqueous violet sheath flows from his wand and courses around us, sending a prickling tingle over my skin. Or’myr flicks his wand, and tendriling violet vines fly from its tip to curl around our legs, securing us to Raz’zor’s back.

“I’m going to try to hold back my power until I get near Vogel,” I tell him as Vogel’s barely repelled Shadow claws around my power. “I don’t want to destroy Voloi or the tent city beyond the border. But if I touch you, I’ll likely amplify your magic.”

“Take hold of me then, cousin,” Or’myr rejoins, defiance in his tone. “We’ll evade that demon tide and light it up a nice shade of purple.”

Raz’zor flexes his powerful wings in an emphatic snap, and I grab the hand Or’myr has wrapped around Raz’zor’s shoulder horn. I’ve a sense of both Raz’zor’s red, purple-sparking Wyvernfire and Yvan’s passion-imbued golden flame ramping up inside us all.

“All right, Black Witch,” Or’myr says against my cheek as the multicolored fire churns volcano-hot. “Let’s go to war.”

Part Six

PART SIX

Demon Tide

The Gardnerian Prophecy

(Divined from Ironwood cleromancy
by the Priest Seers of the First Children)

A Great Winged One will soon arise and cast
his fearsome shadow upon the land.

And just as Night slays Day
and Day slays Night,

so also shall another Black Witch
rise to meet him,

her powers vast beyond imagining.

And as their powers clash upon the field of
battle, the heavens shall open, the mountains
tremble, and the waters run crimson.

And their fates shall determine
the future of all Erthia.

CHAPTER ONE

BATTLE MAGE

Elloren Grey

Voloi, Noilaan

Raz’zor launches himself toward the Vo Mountain Range like a bolt shot from a crossbow. Nothing prepares me for the speed at which we fly, Or’myr and I leaning low to cut the wind battering the geo-shield prickling over our forms. Power surges through me like a storm ready to burst from my skin as I grip my cousin’s wrist to enhance his power with mine.

Raz’zor swoops down over Voloi’s besieged tiers so abruptly my stomach heaves as we speed around pillars of smoke toward the Vo River and Vogel’s incoming horde.