I press my hand to my shoulder, willing the flesh to mend. The familiar heat spreads beneath my palm, the tissue knitting together until only a thin, tender line remains. The healing drains me further, but it's worth it to regain full range of motion.

The siphon's eyes widen. "A healing manifestation… Hah! All these years and he’ll finally have what he wants.”

He? Does it mean Lorkan Grace?

I don't have time to think as the void lion abandons Typhon's back to charge at me. The ancient water dragon spins with surprising agility, intercepting it mid-leap. The two collide in a tangle of claws and teeth and elemental magic that sends shock waves through the room.

Typhon slams the lion into the ground, his massive claws pinning it as water magic pours from his maw, drowning the beast. For the first time, the void lion seems to be weakening, its struggles growing less coordinated.

My limbs already feel leaden, my lungs burning with each breath. I've channeled more power in the last few minutes than I have in all my previous training sessions combined. And I won't last much longer like this.

The door behind the barrier explodes inward in a shower of splinters and flame.

Raith stands in the doorway, his face contorted with fury, Pyrin a blazing inferno behind him. His sword is already drawn, the blade glowing red-hot.

"Get away from her," he growls, and the command in his voice is so absolute that even the siphon pauses.

Raith doesn't wait for a response. He charges as a flare of white-hot fire envelopes him and burns a path through the purple barrier over the door. Pyrin surges ahead of him in a wave of fire that crashes into the void lion, freeing Typhon from his struggle. The ancient dragon rises, injured but far from defeated, water magic gathering around him once more.

The siphon hisses, backing away from this new threat. Raith presses forward, his sword a blur of motion that forces the creature to defend rather than attack. Each strike of Raith's blade leaves a glowing afterimage in the air, the metal so hot it sears the siphon wherever it connects.

The creature's burning flesh fills the room with the sickening scent of smoke and charred hair.

"Nessa, are you hurt?" Raith demands even as he smoothly sidesteps a claw aimed at his stomach and twists, blasting a jet of fire toward the siphon with his left hand.

"I'm okay," I reply, already moving to flank the siphon.

The creature's attention divides between us, its head swiveling unnaturally to track both threats. It parries one of Raith's strikes, then spins to block my dagger thrust with its forearm. The blade sinks deep, but the siphon barely seems to notice.

"Powerful," it says as it suffers another gash from Raith's sword. "You will feed us well."