The cold didn't just arrive; it bit. It was a freezing, soul-deep vacuum that signaled the Rippers' simultaneous strike.
"Now!" Jasper barked, his voice cutting through the unnatural chill.
Daniella screamed, throwing every ounce of her remaining will into the emerald sphere. Her knuckles went white as she fought to invert the flow, desperate to turn the sucking vacuum into a concussive blast. For a split second, the green light flared brilliantly, illuminating the silver-streaked faces of the beasts as they hung in mid-air, inches from her throat.
As the blast peaked, the air seemed to crystallize. The silver shine bled from the Rippers' skin in visible, jagged ribbons of light, violently pulled toward Daniella as if she were the center of a collapsing star. Her veins pulsed a bright, toxic green as she absorbed the essence, her body vibrating with a frequency that threatened to shatter her bones. The stolen power didn't just enter her; it conquered her, surging through her nervous system until her vision went white. The final shockwave roared outward, flattening the obsidian dunes for miles, before the sheer weight of the magic crushed her consciousness. Her luminescent green eyes flickered up toward Jasper's, a small, weary smile ticking at her lips before her body went slack against his chest.
Jasper caught her, wrapping his arms around her and holding her firmly. He looked down at his "calamity," a dark grin tugging at his mouth as he ran a thumb over her sweat-drenched brow.
"Well done," he whispered, though she was beyond hearing. He scooped her up, cradling her to his chest as he strode out of the pit. In his arms, she looked small—unassuming. One would never guess this fragile body held such ferocity.
As he crested the ridge, the stench of blood hit him. He found his cousin, Opal, collapsed on the ground, his fine navy robes with their intricate orange stitching now soaked through with a thick, ink-like stain. Opal's elongated fingernails were frantic, clawing at his own neck as if something caustic were burning its way through his windpipe. His eyes bulged, bloodshot and panicked, staring at nothing as he suffocated on his own fluids. Around him, the obsidian sand began to shimmer like a dark oil spill where his black blood pooled and spread, turning the ground into a slick, obsidian mire.
"Cousin," Jasper said coolly.
"He... help... me..." Opal's words were a broken rasp.
"Of course." Without a hint of ceremony, Jasper stepped over to him. He lifted his heavy boot and slammed it down. The first strike brought the sickening, wet crunch of a collapsing windpipe. Opal's hands flew up, his long nails scraping uselessly against Jasper's leather boot in a final, desperate attempt to push him away. Jasper didn't flinch, bringing his heel down again and again. He watched the light fade from Opal's wide, terrified eyes until the black orbs went hollow and dead. The body finally gave way, disintegrating into a pile of coarse black sand.
Daniella's eyes fluttered open, her vision swimming. Over Jasper's shoulder, a silver Ripper lunged from the gloom. "Jasper!" she choked out.
Before the Ripper's talon could graze them, Jasper's shadow exploded. It didn't manifest as a clone, but as a torrential flood of liquid darkness that seemed to swallow the light from the sky.
Holding Daniella steady with one arm, his free hand shot out, catching the lead Ripper by its narrow silver throat. With a sickening snap, he used the creature's own momentum to swing it like a heavy bat. The carcass slammed into two other Rippers with the sound of shattering porcelain, sending them tumbling into the obsidian walls.
Three more beasts pivoted, their legs clicking as they repositioned. Jasper slammed his boot into the sand, and a wave of solidified shadow spikes erupted in a violent radius. The Rippers were impaled instantly, hoisted three feet off the ground. They twitched as the black spikes drained the color from their hides. Jasper stood in the center of the carnage, the ink-black veins on his arms pulsing with a rhythmic, violet light.
"I didn't kill them all..." Daniella wheezed, her limbs feeling like lead.
"You chose power over precision. If I wasn't here, you would be dead," he chastised. "Only an idiot gives it everything they've got. If you intend to live, you need to fight like someone who wants to survive."
"I was trying!" she protested, a fresh trail of blood leaking from her nose.
"You acted on fear," Jasper countered, shaking her slightly. He leaned in, his dark eyes searching hers. "My life is attached to yours. Protect me. Protect yourself."
He set her down abruptly. He turned his back to her as the shadow spikes dissolved into smoke. "Your body needs time to heal. Do not use your magic again tonight, or your heart will stop."
"What? Why?"
"Your body is not used to the strain. You need to build stamina."
He walked toward a flat ledge of obsidian and sat down. As he did, his shadow detached from his feet, spreading across the ground like spilled ink that refused to stay still. It rose up in a protective perimeter of writhing, smokeless flames and jagged, translucent tendrils that hissed at the wind. The barrier pulsed with a low, thrumming hum, creating a dome of absolute darkness that felt more solid than stone.
"Rest," he commanded over his shoulder. "Because tomorrow will be harder."
"We're not going back to the castle?" she asked, sitting beside him within the shifting dark.
"No."
Daniella watched him—the man who was both her tormentor and her only lifeline. He had broken the monsters like they were toys. She wanted that. She wanted a power so deep it made the world seem insignificant.