Book One – Chapter 2

Yves did not fight to preserve any of his shields or attempt to repair them. The lightning was violent, but the true devastation came from . The pull attacked his conjurations from the instant they formed. It seized the ethereal structures and distorted their lattice faster than Yves could replace what was being taken with new Rothar. He severed each spell the moment a lightning bolt hit, before could drain him any further. Still, his defence was a fool’s errant; every shattered shield demanded another, every new shield cost more Rothar, and every fresh concentration of energy gave the lightning something else upon which to converge, and so Yves broke free. As soon as Midnight had leapt back below the rim, he dissolved his last shield and threw himself down the slope after her.

Shards sprayed and stone shouted beneath him as he slid several meters through the rubble. His boots carved ragged trenches through the glass and grit. Splinters bit into the leather, his shin struck a buried slab, and then something caught him from behind. The sudden pull wrenched him sideways and slammed him onto one knee, but it also arrested his descent. Yves twisted around and found a length of blackened metal protruding from the ruins, its end hooked through the fabric of his coat. He tore himself free and struggled back into a crouch. By then, the palm he had braced against the ruins had burned even through his glove.

Midnight landed beside him an instant later. She remained low and rigid, not with fear but with absolute focus. One of her ears stayed angled towards the unseen storm while the other turned towards Yves. Her stare never left the crest.