Chapter 66

Myrddin.

The name surfaced in my mind unbidden - cold, absolute, and horrifying.

That was what the tentacle was. That was what Mirri’s vision had been warning us about.

Lunythera had lied to me - it wasn’t a false vision spun by Brand. It was real. It was here. It was happening.

Everything I had ever read about the Myrddin crashed through my thoughts in a single, sickening rush - the way they infected minds and hollowed them out, the swarming tide of corruption that had nearly drowned the world, the agony and ruin they left wherever they touched reality.

My gaze snapped to Mirri.

She stood frozen, eyes locked on the rift with an intensity I had never seen in her before - not fear, not panic, but terrible understanding.

Another tentacle pushed through the tear in the world. I could feel them now - dozens of presences pressing against the boundary, clawing at one another, **** to be the first to cross over.

I couldn’t let that happen.

I **** myself to my feet and drew in everything I could - mana, Faith, Will - until my body felt too small to contain it. I didn’t know how to fight this. I didn’t know if it was even possible.

But Arthyr had done it.

And if he could stand against the Myrddin, then so could I.

Mirri’s eyes met mine for a heartbeat.

“I’m sorry,” I told her.

The words were swallowed by the violent thrumming of reality tearing itself apart.

I stepped forward and brought Adhaneth down in a blazing arc, smashing it into the writhing tentacles. I seized the edges of the rift with both hands and pulled.

Chaos screamed against me.

The substance of the Interstitium gnawed at my fingers, trying to unravel them, to peel my Will apart thread by thread. I **** myself to hold. Muscles burned. Veins stood out as if they might burst through my skin as the edges of the tear crept closer together.

I was almost there.

Then something wrapped around me.

A tentacle coiled tight and yanked.

The world lurched as I was dragged forward, the Interstitium boiling into view, the presence of the Myrddin surging against me like a living tide - pressing, clawing, hungry - as I was pulled screaming into the space between worlds.

* * *

My focus slipped - just for a heartbeat - and my eyes met Seth’s.

He said something I couldn’t hear. His mouth moved with **** urgency, his expression fierce and unyielding. Then he surged forward, slamming Adhaneth into the writhing tentacles again and again. He seized the edges of the rift and pulled, his whole body straining with the effort.

Yveth appeared at my side, her mouth open in a shout I couldn’t hear, her expression twisted in fear.

Then the void struck.

A tentacle made of absence itself lashed out, impossibly fast. It wrapped around Seth and yanked.

He was dragged into the rift.

The tear sealed shut with a final, violent snap, reality knitting itself together as if nothing had ever been wrong.

My scream tore out of me into the sudden silence - raw and broken - joined by others. Yveth. Elise. Ashie. Serah.

He was gone.

* * *

“Brand and Seth are dead, my Lady,” Lunythera said, bowing low.

“And the Myrddin?” asked the woman wrought of parchment and ink, her voice a soft rasp like quills on vellum.

“One slipped through the rift,” the luminous goddess replied, her husky tone edged with reverence.

“Excellent.” The Lady’s reply was immediate. “And the Iron Nation?”

“Ten of the eleven hordes are rallying as we speak.”

“Arvellia and Morentis?” The runes crawling across her body slowed, then twisted, rearranging themselves with deliberate satisfaction.

“The messenger from Arvellia has been assassinated,” Lunythera said smoothly. “His body was left within Morentis’ borders. The Grand Wizards have been alerted to the rift and are already en route to investigate. With luck, they will encounter Pyraeth’s spawn, the goblin, and the orc.”

“Then everything is proceeding as planned,” the Lady murmured. For just a moment, the constellations of her face warped - almost imperceptibly - into something like a smile.