“Your reinforcements won’t help, rheenar,” Ashétyn trilled from her perch at the cliff’s edge. Shädar and Divifír landed and spread out, stalking away on their wing knuckles to hem in their cornered prey. “You’re outmatched.”
Viran dragged his gaze from the gloating demon queen, assessing Khyvette’s damage. She quivered on her side, but made no sound of discomfort. A nauseating, metallic-sweet stench hung around her—the scent of dragon blood.
“Khyvette needs healing,” Fletcher whispered when they’d all gathered beside him, “but we can’t wield magic within the protective enchantments.”
“We can’t leave, either,” said Effrax, watching the surrounding necrocrelai.
Roxanne’s face darkened. She balled her fists and sprang forward. The air rippled with distortion as she passed through the enc
