"Oho!" Cazadia clapped her hands in glee, almost quivering with delight. "What a dramatic end! To deliberate stab yourself when your own sister failed in doing the only thing that could save her own life! Maybe I did pick the wrong sister." She paused and then shrugged. "Ah well, Soleus got there before me. It's not like I could have done any different."

Ravin knelt down and pressed his hands onto Seiren's heaving shoulders, undoing the effect of the venom from his daemon. Sensation flowed back into Seiren's body, along with all the horror of what she'd done. Sticky blood coated her hands and stomach. She stared at it, bile burning her gullet, tears poised at the corners of her eyes. She was barely aware of Cazadia's taunts and Magus's fight in the background. She turned her head. Madeleine stared at the ceiling, eyelids fluttering, her face ashen. Seiren crawled towards her.

"Maddy... no, no..." she muttered. Her fingers traced the outline of the wound where the material of the robe had ripped against the blade. Blood continued to ooze out at a terrifying rate, staining her fingers. Seiren's fingertips glowed white. Madeleine's hand flew up, knocking her wrist.

No. Not when they're watching. Their minds were no longer connected, but Madeleine's thoughts were clear as day.

Seiren stared at her sister with desperation. Time was running out. Madeleine's face grew paler and sweatier as the seconds ticked by and Cazadia and Ravin both watched in silence behind her. If Madeleine died, no magic could bring her back. Her arm fell down by her side. Her eyes began to roll up, her breaths slowing. Seiren placed her shaking hands on either side of Madeleine's face, smudging blood onto her cheeks. The layout of the soul-tether rune spun before her mind's eye, clear as a light rune in the night.

"It's okay, Maddy, I got you." Her voice cracked. The metallic stench of blood filled her nostrils, making her nauseated.

A sudden bang from behind made Seiren jump out of her skin. Cazadia and Ravin shouted in alarm, leaping aside and bringing up handfuls of summoner's dust. The heavy smell of cinnamon mixed with that of Madeleine's blood.

The sounds of yells and screams mixed with the screeching of daemons. Dust and dislodged rubble flew through the air as bodies clashed. The stench of blood intensified. Seiren whipped her head around. Cazadia screamed at Hanilla, her daemon, who darted forward, jaws agape, the holes Seiren had bored into its cheeks showing its long tongue. A huge, dark shape whipped through the air, too quick for the eye to catch. Seiren took the opportunity to seize the torment Cazadia had put her through. Magic surged through her body, gaining strength from her despair. Her hands tingled; sparks leapt from finger to finger. Seiren slammed her palm together. A white ball of energy formed and, with adrenaline surging through her veins, she leapt to her feet and slammed the ball into Cazadia's back.

The woman screamed, arching her spine, eyes bulging in surprise and then pain. The energy sizzled, eroding into her back. Seiren drew her hand back and stumbled, the world spiralling around her. Someone caught her under the arms just as her legs gave way and they both crashed to the ground.

"Reckless!" came a familiar voice from behind, one she'd never imagined she'd hear in Hanna. The warm arms clutched her tightly across the ribs, pulling her to a sitting position. Bewildered, she turned her head. Exhausted blue-green eyes, with dark shadows beneath, glared at her. His black hair, cut too short, stuck up at peculiar angles and was streaked with sand.

"Rowan!" Seiren gasped. "What are you—"

"Kommora came calling," he said grimly. "When she tells you to jump, you don't even ask how high. And besides, what kind of tutor am I if I abandon my – very trouble-prone, if I may add – former student in this godforsaken country?"

"She's here?!"

"No. If Kommora Haigh stepped foot in Hanna, there was no way this operation could be remotely discreet. She's too well-known. It's a small team, but it'll have to do."

"I—Madeleine!"

"Hang in there," said a breathless mage kneeling by Madeleine's side. Madeleine's eyelids had closed, her breathing erratic and shallow. Marya Bonneville's hood fell back. Loose strands of light hair fell from her bun. Swift hands flew over paper, creating a balanced but intense green rune. She pressed it to Madeleine's abdomen and activated it. Bathed in green light, the blood congealed and sealed the wound. "The knife has to stay in, otherwise she'll bleed out, but this will stabilise her for now—"

Rowan shoved Seiren aside and slammed his palms together before throwing one hand forward. A vicious streak of lightning exploded from his hand, striking the daemon that had crept towards Marya Bonneville under camouflage. Saraphes crashed to the ground, spasming all over. Ravin, the Daemonium member standing at the foot of the stone steps leading up to the entrance doors, crumbled onto all fours, gasping.

"Attack the summoner, not the daemon," Seiren whispered, getting onto shaky feet. Her body shook with exhaustion. Her lungs burnt with every breath, but the relief at seeing reinforcement gave her the energy she needed. Saraphes struggled onto its slim legs, eyes twitching independently in every direction, stepping back towards the white-faced Ravin. Ravin glanced in terror at Cazadia, who lay motionless in a pile of her own blood on the ground. A bloody hole, the size of her head, sat at the waist where her silk robes parted. Rowan braced himself, readying his flash magic. There was a click and the sound of a gunshot. Saraphes shot forth – not at Rowan, but at Ravin. Before Seiren or Rowan could react, both Ravin and his daemon vanished. The air rippled.

"What the—?"

"It's a camouflage daemon." Seiren found the source of the gunshot. "Tylene! Dent!"

A shaky smile spread across her face. Rowan's two aides descended the last few stone steps, their guns raised and eyes scanning with caution the surrounding. Tylene winked at Seiren.

"Glad to be back in business, mage!" She squinted ahead at the showdown near the sarcophagus. "Quite a show going on there!"

"What is this place?" Dent murmured in a low voice, eyeing the hundreds of statues with mistrust. "What do you want us to do about that demon summoner, sir?"

"He's probably run away," Seiren said.

"Good. One fewer for us to worry about."

"Run away?" came another familiar, jovial voice – one that instantly filled her with dread.

The sound of a clap echoed in the chamber, followed by a sizzle that rose above the cacophony from the battle not far away. Tahir Portendorfer descended the steps behind the aides. His head appeared strangely small without his usual wide-brimmed hat. His face filled with delight. The roar of blue-hot flash magic overwhelmed the nearby noise and a wall of hellfire rose before them, staining everything in the white and grey of chalk and marble, before it crashed over the tens of statues lining up the steps whence he came, sweeping between the crevices and smashing into walls like the waves of the sandseas. When the magic receded, the charred remains of the camouflaging daemon lay at the top of the steps, still crackling and popping. A whimpering small body curled beside it.

"Not so easy to escape now, is it?" Portendorfer called lightly. Tylene hurried up the steps, hopping delicately over the scorched surfaces, her gun raised to subdue Ravin.

Rowan laid a hand on Seiren's shoulder. "Can you fight?"

"Yes." Her eyes jumped to Madeleine. "But she..."

"She'll be stable, but she's still critical. We don't have time to do any more for now." Marya jerked her head, getting to her feet. "There are only five of us and that princess won't be able to stop all of them—"

"Princess? Eleia is here?" Seiren's heart surged. Perhaps there was still hope for them.

"Yes. Luckily Marya could translate the Hannan sign language—"

"My state interpreter days ended ten years ago but I still have the skills. That girl has the royal daemon. She assures us as long as she's here, we have nothing to fear from the Daemonium."

"But Kristen—"

There was another crash and a girl's scream. Eleia.

"Yes. That is our greater problem. Come on, Seiren."

Marya waved at Seiren and the three of them set off for the centre of the arena where the shouts and bangs were rife. Seiren's body throbbed all over and her mind was still in a whirlwind, but the relief at seeing familiar faces and knowing Madeleine was stable in Rowan's aides' hands gave her the strength she lacked until now. Rowan's hand was warm and dry in hers. He threw her a tired smile more reminiscent of their time before the battle of Benover.

"Whose ass got a taste of Kommora's chair to get you guys here?"

"Our hands were tied, as you very well know," Marya said, narrowing her eyes ahead and scanning the situation. "But Kommora got word about Eleia Tophalis's survival. That was what we needed to move in – we have the support of one royal. At that point, it changed from inciting war to aiding a claim to the throne. Karma will be safe – assuming we are successful."

Seiren shook her head. She would never understand politics. Marya threw out a hand, halting Seiren and Rowan. Portendorfer studied the scene before them with vague interest. It was a flurry of muscular daemon bodies striking against each other, knocking century-old statues to the ground and flinging waves of sand and loose rubble everywhere. Daemonic screeches and human yells intertwined. The stench of sweat and blood hung heavy in the air. Pools of daemon blood glistened like the surface of a lake, beneath the light from the iridescent stones above.

Long tails swept across the ground, lifting up clouds of dust. Two snakes, one sleek and elegant with a flat neck, the other thick and chunky, reared back and clashed, withdrew, and darted forward again, fangs bared. The two princes circled each other, seemingly ignoring their daemons' fight. Fautos Tophalis gripped a longsword in his hand. Magus had daggers in both hands and a gash on his upper arm, from which blood poured. They flew in, their weapons gleaming in the light, clashing against each other. Metal screeched on metal. Sparks flew in the air. They separated, panting, and shot in again.

Eleia remained airborne with her long, scarlet daemon, whose tail whipped like a fish out of water but bore horns like a goat and teeth like a wolf. Long whiskers floated about its head, obscuring Eleia's skinny frame almost wholly, except for a mass of wild black hair that had come loose from her neat plaits. The scarlet daemon lashed repeatedly at Oerse Gulmore's, its long limbs and claws and glistening teeth unable to penetrate Gulmore's daemon's thick, spiky shell. Soleus's stocky, broad daemon swung its tail at Eleia, forcing her to take to the air again before turning about.

"Baerekiel!" Gulmore shouted, gesturing. The daemon lumbered forward just as Eleia and her daemon dived. Both daemons' jaws were agape, the scarlet one with its deadly teeth and Baerekiel's beak-like mouth. They crashed. Rampaging forward like a train at full-speed, to Seiren's horror, Soleus's Maroni cannoned into the pile and Eleia flew over the top of the two creatures, landing in a heap on the floor, stunned.

"Idiot!" Seiren hissed, starting forward. Why the hell did she ride her daemon when it was going to clash with Oerse Gulmore's monstrosity?! Rowan grabbed her hand and yanked her back. Seiren spun to him with a snarl. "What the hell?!"

"Marya and Tahir will back her up, and the other Tophalis prince, too," Rowan said in a low voice. "We need to get Kristen."

Seiren's heart skipped a beat. In the chaos, she'd forgotten the most important piece in the plan. In the centre of all this, standing over the sarcophagus with her hood lowered, Kristen Harred continued to sketch her spell.

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