Raith felt the break in the whisper network before he heard Myst speak. They were halfway up the final spiral when Myst’s voice cut through the link, stripped of its usual edge.

  Durnam is down.

  For a heartbeat, Raith didn’t understand the words. They slid past him like water over stone.

  Then meaning struck, and the world seemed to tilt.

  For half a heartbeat he couldn’t breathe. Durnam. Granite-steadfast, iron-willed, patient as bedrock. The man who had helped train them until his muscles screamed. Gone.

  A cold wave moved through him, slow and suffocating. He nearly missed the next step.

  “Damn it,” he breathed, barely audible.

  No time.

  Myst’s voice returned, tight with strain.

  We’re holding. Barely.

  Boots thundered below. Steel rang. Someone screamed.

  Raith reached the top of the stair and found himself standing before a tall double door of dark oak banded in iron. Venton’s office, according to the Spymaster’s informant. There were no guards or wards visible, which meant that the traitor was more than confident in whatever defenses lay beyond those doors. His team gathered behind him.

  Nyhm’s eyes glinted faintly in the dim torchlight, blue tattoos on his arms pulsing like a second heartbeat. Thea’s roots shifted restlessly along her arms. Tolliver stood pale and still, conserving power. Zinny hovered on her mount near the the back of the group, bow already in hand, while Phineas’s wings beat in anxious tremors. Hob’s jaw was tight.

  Raith looked at them, nodded once, and they burst through the doors.

  The chamber beyond was larger than Raith expected. A lord’s receiving hall disguised as an office. A heavy desk of blackwood stood across the room near the window. Plush chairs arranged at the far end before a wide hearth where flames rolled lazily in a marble fireplace. Thick carpets muffled their entrance.

  Venton sat behind the desk, hands folded, expression almost bored.

  To the right, a man in ornate plate armor stood contemplating the fire, massive warhammer resting head-down against the stone. Silver filigree traced the edges of his armor. The Templar’s sigil gleamed on his breastplate. He did not turn.

  To the left, near a tall window overlooking the courtyard, stood a slender man in dark mage robes, hands clasped behind his back. The robed man glanced over his shoulder at their arrival.

  “The tide has turned in the battle below, sire,” he said mildly. “Only Myst and Belk remain.”

  Venton’s lips curved faintly. “Thank you, Egbert. It won’t be long now.”

  His gaze shifted to Raith. Cold and irritated.

  “So,” Venton said. “This is your doing. Why is it always you?”

  Raith stepped forward, rope dart already uncoiling in his hand. He did not answer, glaring and not trusting himself to speak.

  Venton leaned back in his chair.

  “Templar Veragan,” he said calmly, not taking his eyes off Raith. “None of them leaves this room alive.”

  The armored man rolled his shoulders and cranked his head to each side. Metal creaked and the chamber shrank around him.

  Then he turned. Raith’s breath caught, recognizing the famed man with [Divine Strength]. Templar Veragan was enormous. Not merely tall, immense. His presence seemed to press against the room. His helm was open, revealing a broad, weathered face and eyes as gray and cold as iron. Those eyes settled on Hob.

  “I am sad to see you here, friend Hob.”

  Hob swallowed, then smiled grimly and drew his rapier.

  “I might say the same. But if you stand by the man who slew my wife, you are no friend of mine.”

  Silver flame burst around Veragan’s warhammer. The air vibrated as the hammer swung through the air like a falling star. Hob stepped into it.

  The impact detonated through the chamber. Carpets shredded. The fine wooden desk cracked, but did not splinter. Hob was hurled across the room like a discarded doll and struck the far wall with a bone-shaking thud.

  He slid to the floor and stood right back up, uninjured.

  Veragan advanced without pause.

  Nyhm flickered. One moment beside Raith, the next atop the descending hammer shaft. Blue claws flashed. Veragan twisted with shocking speed, flinging Nyhm away. The hammer struck the floor and the castle groaned. Only the faint pulse of aether reinforcement running through the stone kept the chamber intact.

  “Spread!” Raith shouted.

  Chaos erupted. The [Mage] raised a hand and the room fractured. Suddenly there were three Veragans. Four. The fireplace roared blue. The floor seemed to tilt sideways. Raith lunged, but and nearly collided with a phantom desk.

  A thrice damned [Illusionist].

  Tolliver darted forward, shifting mid-stride into a bat to avoid a sweeping hammer that shattered a marble pedestal. He reformed just long enough to loose a sonic missile. The concussive force rippled outward…but struck an illusion.

  Laughter echoed from nowhere.

  Zinny loosed a lightning arrow. It struck the [Illusionist] squarely, and passed through air.

  “I’ll kill you!” she squealed.

  Veragan found Thea, hammer swung in a wide arc. Hob made a desperate dive, absorbing some of the blow. Thea met the rest with her shield. The impact split the floor beneath her hooves and drove her to one knee. Roots exploded outward from her armor, bracing, anchoring her to the stone. The impact drove her backward ten feet. Silver flame burned through bark and flesh alike. She roared, hooves gouging trenches in stone.

  The massive knight raised his hammer again in what was sure to be a finishing blow, but Nyhm darted forward at impossible speed, twisting at the Templar’s hands with some technique that bypassed that impossible strength and sent the hammer spinning across the room.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  The paladin twisted and lashed out with a gauntleted punch that caught Nyhm in the ribs.

  The crack echoed. Nyhm was hurled through a side table and skidded across the carpet. Nyhm coughed once, blood trickling from his mouth, and collapsed back into the floor..

  Raith moved.

  He vaulted a shattered chair, rope dart singing. The fae-wrought head whipped toward Venton.

  A shimmer snapped into existence around the traitorous High Emissary. A curved, translucent barrier from bracers on his wrists. The dart struck and skidded off in a spray of sparks.

  Venton smiled as an amulet at his throat flashed indigo.

  The world lurched and Raith stumbled, suddenly behind the desk Venton had occupied. His rope dart continued along its previous trajectory, glancing uselessly off the force field , as Venton stood where Raith had been, saber already drawn.

  He thrust toward Nyhm’s exposed back.

  “NYHM!” Raith shouted.

  Tolliver swooped in at the last instant, transforming in human form to tackle Venton away from his brother. The blade pierced the [Mage’s] cloak and bit shallowly into his side. He hurriedly unstoppered a healing potion and poured it on Nyhm’s unresponsive face, but had no time for a more precise dosing as Venton waded back in, sabre swinging. Tolliver got off a concussive blast, knocking Venton backwards but causing no damage.

  Venton paused to chant a quick spell, then smiled wickedly and rejoined the fray.

  Raith wondered at the spell as he spun in for another attack, but was caught short as a rapier pierced his thigh. Raith’s stomach dropped as he saw Hob reposition for another strike.

  Hob’s eyes were furious. Helpless.

  “Forgive me,” Hob strained, the only resistance he could manage against the charm.

  Thea screamed in pain and anger, and Raith whirled to see his dearest friend pinned.

  Veragan had one hand wrapped around her throat, pressing her into the ground. Roots lashed uselessly around his arm as the silver flame burned them away. Her hooves kicked helplessly.

  “The power of a god lies within my arms. It does not yield,” Veragan said calmly.

  He lifted her up and slammed her back into the floor.

  Thea didn’t rise. Something inside Raith broke.

  Raith screamed and hurled his dart. It wrapped Veragan’s elbow. Raith yanked with everything he had, but the Templar didn’t even budge.

  Instead, he pivoted and flung Raith bodily across the chamber with a contemptuous twist of his arm. Raith hit the far wall hard enough to see white.

  He tried to stand…and a saber pierced through his side. Cold pain spread throughout his abdomen. Venton stood close enough that Raith could smell his breath.

  “You truly are exhausting,” Venton said softly.

  Raith gasped as the blade withdrew. Blood soaked his tunic instantly. Venton drew back for the finishing blow, but Raith smiled grimly as a familiar face appeared behind the traitor.

  Nyhm did not look at him. He flowed.

  Venton’s thrust should have taken him clean through the neck. Instead Nyhm caught the arm and it bent backward, a loud wet snap joined Venton’s scream as the elbow was wrenched the wrong direction. He stepped forward without breaking stride, grabbing the other arm and rotating it at the shoulder until there was another pop.

  Hob lunged again, charmed and weeping. His rapier flashed toward Nyhm’s spine.

  Nyhm did not even turn.

  He ducked one thrust without looking, flickered through another, and lashed out at Venton in the same breath. Blue claws scraped uselessly across the force field, but knocked the man backwards causing him to trip over debris and tumble to the floor.

  Veragan joined the fray as Raith slammed a healing potion. Nyhm narrowly dodged a blow that shattered a section of reinforced wall and sent shockwaves throughout the room.

  Tolliver darted in human form long enough to unleash a thunder clap right into the knight’s helm. The concussive wave staggered Veragan half a step. He shook his head furiously but stayed on his feet

  Reality fractured again as the room split into mirrors. Veragans multiplied. Ventons grinned from every corner. The [Illusionist] chuckled from his unseen corner of the room. Nyhm darted between the attackers, dissipating forms with each swipe of his claws only to watch them coalesce moments later.

  Raith cast toward the nearest Venton. It sailed through unimpeded as a fist slammed into his shoulder from the side. Pain detonated, his enchanted leathers absorbing just enough of the blow to keep his organs intact. He crashed across the desk, breath gone. The world swam. He rolled just as another blow shattered the desk where his skull had been.

  Tollvier landed and pulled out a scroll. His layered chant permeated the chamber, and as the scroll crumbled to dust the illusions flickered and disappeared. But the spell had caused him to stay in place too long. His cloak bunched to intercept the Templar’s fist, and the mage was flung across the chamber, crashing through a side table. He lay still.

  “Tolliver!”

  Hob pressed Nyhm relentlessly, tears tracking down his cheeks as he thrust again and again.

  “Fight it!” Raith shouted.

  “I am trying!” Hob gasped.

  Veragan joined Hob’s assault, pulling back a fist to strike just as Nyhm dodged his direction.

  For a heartbeat, Raith saw it clearly. This was the blow that would end them.

  Nyhm flickered backward, and his hand dipped into his belt pouch.

  He drew forth a small jar of shimmering golden honey.

  Raith remembered this brother’s words.

  The bogle told me that stirred one way, it adds something. Stirred the other, it takes something away. ZInny is helping me work on something.

  Nyhm met Raith’s eyes, then hurled the jar.

  It shattered against Veragan’s chest. The honey exploded outward in a glittering spray. For one terrible heartbeat nothing happened.

  Veragan smiled.

  Then…sound filled the chamber. A rising hum like a swarm of bees.

  The honey clung to Veragan’s armor, glowing faintly. Silver flame sputtered. His aura wavered.

  “What have you done?” Veragan roared.

  The humming intensified.

  The divine radiance around him guttered and went out.

  He lashed out at Nyhm, landing a solid blow that the elfling made no effort to dodge. It was merely a mortal, devoid of any [Skill].

  Raith turned to see ZInny leaving Thea’s side to attend to Tolliver. Thea rose, her face a mask of cold rage, and surged forward.

  Her shield smashed into Veragan’s helm. Roots erupted from the floor, binding his legs. Veragan staggered.

  “No!” he bellowed.

  Thea rammed her shoulder into his chest.

  They crashed through a section of broken wall and into the adjoining sitting room. Veragan struggled, but the honey clung, glittering, drinking the power from him.

  Thea’s shield came down one final time and there was silence.

  The humming faded. Veragan lay still.

  Across the chamber, Venton’s composure cracked. Of the [Illusionist], there was no sign.

  Hob screamed, guttural with emotion, and wrenched free of the charm as Venton’s focus slipped. He moved without hesitation, rapier flashing.

  Venton tried to react, reaching for his amulet again, but Raith cast his rope out, binding the man’s arms against his torso. Raith stepped forward and ripped away the enchanted bracers that shielded him..

  Hob lunged, and his blade slid cleanly between Venton’s ribs. For a heartbeat they stood frozen. Venton looked down at the steel protruding from his chest.

  “No,” he whispered.

  Hob’s face was a mask of grief and fury.

  “For her.”

  He twisted, and Venton slumped to the ground, blood quickly pooling around his fallen body..

  Egbert was gone. The fire in the hearth guttered low, partially covered in the rubble of it’s collapsed hearth.

  Raith puffed up his cheeks and let out a long, slow breath. Everything hurt. He sent a message over the whisper net.

  Myst, he’s dead.

  Her voice came back, tinged with relief and exhaustion.

  Good timing. We couldn’t hold out much longer. See you back in Beckhaven.

  Nyhm leaned against a shattered pillar, breathing hard, blue claws fading. Thea slumped heavily beside Veragan’s body, roots retracting. Tolliver stirred weakly from the wreckage. Zinny hovered shakily, one wing singed. Phineas whimpered and nudged at her.

  Hob stood over Venton’s corpse and wept with tears of relief and mourning.

  Below, the sounds of battle were fading. Raith walked slowly to the center of the ruined chamber. Venton was dead. They were finally free from the threat of war this traitor had tried to engineer.

  Raith coiled his rope dart carefully, hands trembling slightly now that the battle had ended. Nyhm came over to put a hand on his shoulder, and Raith pulled him into a hug. The rest of the team surrounded them and joined in.

  “It’s finally done.”