The eyes darken to black. The mouth curves at the edges until it's monstrously large. The limbs elongate and its fingertips stretch into claw-like talons. The back hunches and the legs stretch as it lets out a low, inhuman growl.

The thing looks like something straight out of a nightmare, but what scares me more than the sight of it is the feeling passing through the bond from Typhon. It's a kind of resignation. It's a readiness to fight until his last breath, but the knowledge that death is coming for us both.

I look over my shoulder at the door again, thinking again of trying to run or force my way through the barrier, but I see something that gives me pause. The magical barrier of purple and green still guards it, but the door is blackening and turning red. Smoke billows around the edges.

Fire.

I grip my dagger tighter, my survival instincts screaming at me to run while my feet remain rooted in place. There's nowhere to run. All I can do is stand and fight.

The siphon tilts its horrific head, studying me with eyes that seem to drink in light rather than reflect it.

"What do you want?" I ask, desperate to buy time even as I catalog every potential advantage in the room.

"Bait." The word tears from its throat. "He comes. He dies."

Bait? Then it knows Raith is coming. Gods. I'm not buying time for help to come. I'm doing exactly what the siphon wants. I'm luring Raith into a trap.

The door behind the barrier glows brighter, the red now pulsing like a heartbeat. Someone's trying to get in.

Raith. It has to be him.

The siphon charges again, but this time I'm ready. I step into its attack rather than away, ducking under its sword and dragging my dagger across its torso as I pass. The blade—Raith's gift—cuts deeper than I expected, leaving a gash that oozes more black liquid.

The creature howls. It whirls, sword flashing toward my exposed back⁠—

I throw myself forward into a roll, but I'm too slow. The blade catches me across my shoulder, slicing through fabric and flesh. The pain is white-hot and immediate, radiating outward like a brand pressed to my skin.

The siphon laughs, a horrible broken sound.

Typhon roars at the sight of my wound, abandoning his fight with the void lion to surge toward me. The void beast leaps onto his back, claws digging into scales, but Typhon ignores it, positioning himself between me and the siphon.

"You cannot stop this, ancient one," the siphon hisses. "You may have cleansed your madness, but you are still tethered to a half-trained child."

I reach inside, to that place where my power seems to gather when I need it most. The wound on my shoulder burns, but I channel that pain, using it to sharpen my focus. If I can heal myself, maybe I'll have a chance.