Page 147 of Unbound

Voss smiles, the expression never reaching his eyes.

He makes no recognizable gesture, speaks no words of power. Yet the air around the siphon seems to compress, crushing inward. The creature struggles against some invisible force, its body contorting unnaturally.

"Why..." the siphon gasps, its voice strained.

"Tell your master that Confluence remains protected," Voss says pleasantly.

The siphon shrinks in on itself, its form twisting and diminishing until it resembles a malformed human shadow. The void beast whimpers and fades like mist in sunlight.

With a sound like tearing fabric, the shadow and the remnants of the void lion vanishes. The oppressive energy that had filled the room dissipates, leaving only the smell of ozone, decay, and smoke.

"Raith." The name breaks in my throat. Black veins are spreading beneath his skin, creeping outward from his throat where the siphon touched him.

Voss approaches, his expression grim as he studies Raith. "This is void magic. It wasn't allowed to fully take hold, but I fear it will kill him within the hour. His elemental is already failing." He glances at Pyrin, who has diminished to half his normal size, his flames flickering weakly.

"There must be something we can do," I say, desperation making my voice crack.

Voss glances around the room, taking in the destruction—toppled columns, shattered stone, scorched walls. "I would stay, but we're hosting guests, and my absence will soon be noted. Emissaries from Empire here to dig for reasons to bury me, no doubt," he adds with a sour twist of his lips.

"You're just going to leave us here?" I demand, anger flaring hot and bright. "How can you?—"

"There's nothing that can be done for him. The siphon won't return for now, so you have nothing to fear on that count. Just... take your final moments with Raith. And come see me tomorrow. We have much to discuss." Voss strides out of the room, walking over the remnants of the blown in door. He regards the open doorway with a faint grimace, then disappears from view.

Typhon moves to my side, exhausted but still alert."You will need to try to heal him. It could work. It could cleanse him."

"I don't know how,"I reply, panic rising as the black veins continue to spread."I've only ever healed myself."

"I’m too weak to help you as I did during Confluence Day. If you form a tether with him, it would be easier. The tether carries energy of its own. You could use this energy to fuel the healing. Use it as a pathway to draw out the void.”

I look down at Raith's paling face, the black veins now spreading across his jaw and down his chest. His breathing is shallow, each exhale weaker than the last.

Pyrin whimpers, his form diminishing further as the fire mark on Raith's hand grows fainter.

I can't let him die. Not like this. Not when he came to save me.

"How?"I ask Typhon."What do I do?"

"An oath,"Typhon replies."Tether yourself to him as you tethered yourself to me. It will only be a one-way tether, so not nearly as strong or complete. But it could be enough.”

I take Raith's hand, the one marked with the fire symbol, and press it against my chest over my heart. His skin is cold, the warmth that always seemed to radiate from him nearly gone.

"Raith," I say, my voice surprisingly steady. "I don't know if you can hear me, but I swear this oath to you now. I swear I'll do everything I can to help you. To protect you like you've protected me." The words come from somewhere deep inside me, pulled forth by instinct and desperation. "Your life is my life. Your fight is my fight."

For a moment, nothing happens. Then I feel it—a faint vibration between us, like a thread being pulled taut.

The thread grows stronger, more defined, like a slender cord linking us together. It's nowhere near as solid as the tether between Typhon and me—more like a single thread compared to a woven rope—but it's there, pulsing with potential.

I place my hands on either side of his neck where the siphon touched him, calling forth my healing power. It's harder than healing myself, like trying to pour water uphill, but I push through the resistance.

The black veins resist, clinging to Raith's flesh like parasites. I can feel them fighting me, trying to burrow deeper. But something has changed with our connection. I can sense his life force now, feel how it's intertwined with Pyrin's, see how the void magic is eating away at them both.

I don't just push at the corruption. I reach through our new thread-thin connection, anchoring myself to the core of who Raith is, and then I pull. I pull it from him the same way I draw in his fire when we touch.

The void magic is reluctant at first, clinging stubbornly. Then it begins to flow, sluggishly at first, then in an ever-increasing stream. It pours from Raith into my hands—a thick, oily substance that burns wherever it touches.

I gasp at the pain, but I don't let go. I can't.

"Don't let it linger inside you,"Typhon warns."Direct it away. Quickly."

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