About twenty or thirty feet long, the polished silvery skin of the skyskimmer reflected the night sky and trees around it. Oblong and devoid of any sharp angles or edges, it appeared strange and ethereal in the dark forest. Strips of softly glowing lights traced its outline, pulsating rhythmically, organically.

  Elion watched it for several moments, standing in the shadows, his heart pounding. He didn’t know how to approach or hail it. Something in the back of his mind warned him, suggesting that he make sure this was his ride before barging in. If someone had overheard Elion’s communication with Zev, they could have sent a decoy.

  The craft hovered about ten feet off the ground, humming softly in the cool night air. The lights around the skyskimmer flashed, then turned off. With a mechanical hiss, a triangular platform descended from the bottom of the ship. Light poured from the interior of the ship, a bright gash of light on its belly.

  The platform’s shadow was a large wedge on the ground, shrinking rapidly as it descended. Elion blinked, his eyes adjusting to the bright light.

  A man stood in the light. For a moment, he thought it was Zev.

  Elion’s breath caught, his hands instinctively tightening on his rifle as the platform came to a rest on the ground. The man did not move, but stood boldly illuminated beneath the skyskimmer. It was not Zev.

  Raising his rifle, Elion inspected the man through the scope. He was bald and dark skinned, wearing a long leather coat. He peered out into the darkness of the forest around him, turning as he scanned.

  He didn’t look anything like Dorian’s warlocks, so that was probably a good sign.

  Elion recalled Zev’s words. He hadn’t mentioned sending someone else.

  He had said ‘We'll come for you.’ Maybe that guy is working with Zev.

  Three infected scavengers burst from the woods, accompanied by two pemalion. The pemalion charged at the man, who fell smoothly into a defensive stance, facing the enemy.

  As the man shifted his stance, light warped into strands around him, consolidating into a golden breastplate. A massive sword formed in his hands. The sword looked like a prop from an anime convention, ornate, unrealistically large, and glowing with light. Elion would have guessed the blade was very heavy.

  But the man swung the sword one-handed through the air, slicing through the first pemalion as it lunged at him. The scavengers fired their rifles, bullets hitting the man in the chest. They ricocheted away, whirring through the air. The man staggered from the impact, but did not fall. The second pemalion sprang, already inside of the man’s guard. He pivoted and punched the pemalion.

  His blow landed on the pemalion’s jaw, flipping the alien feline over backward, a backbreaking crack rending the air. The man, still slightly off balance, tripped and fell onto the ground. He rolled, raising his arm to shield his face as more bullets flew. They pinged loudly off his vambrace.

  A bright light flashed from the front of the ship, and the three scavengers evaporated, leaving behind only a smoking crater. Elion closed his eyes, the afterimage glowing in his vision.

  “Zelian’s Halls, Isalyn,” the man yelled. “I had them!”

  A woman’s voice echoed from inside the ship. “You fell over! Admit it, you’re getting old Rennick.”

  “You’re supposed to save those charges for emergencies,” Rennick yelled back.

  “We’ll just recharge it when we get back. Come on, I never get to use the cannon.”

  Rennick climbed back to his feet, leaning his sword over his shoulder.

  “Any sign of the boy?” Isalyn’s voice from the skyskimmer called. “How long are we supposed to wait for him?”

  Rennick shielded his eyes, scanning the forest. “As long as we can.”

  “I’m a good pilot but they know what direction we were heading,” Isalyn said. “The minute I pick something up on the screen we’re going to have to jet.”

  Elion had heard enough. “Hey!” he yelled, jogging out of the trees. “Are you my ride?”

  He approached the ship. As he entered the ring of light surrounding it, Rennick waved at him.

  “Elion?”

  “That’s me,” Elion said.

  “Zev sent us for you,” Rennick said. “Hurry, we don’t have a lot of time. Isalyn already pissed off the warlock patrols.”

  Elion jogged up to Rennick’s platform, but didn’t step onto it. He peered up into the hole overhead, into the belly of the skyskimmer. It looked like the cargo hold of an airplane; shiny metal, crates secured with straps.

  "Come on, let’s go,” Rennick said. “We don’t have all day.”

  Elion wanted to go with them. But the thought of abandoning Aterfel in their moment of need held him back.

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  I can’t just leave them to fight the infected alone.

  He also didn’t want to leave Keyla to Gorman’s mercy. He shuddered at what the man might do when he discovered the theft of his Ascendency stones.

  “Can you help me with something first?” Elion asked. “The people here need help.”

  Rennick rolled his eyes. “Everyone needs help. Right now we’re here to help you.”

  “There’s a Shard out there, it’s infecting people and animals,” Elion said. “They’re going to try to blow it up tomorrow, with a bomb. But I just saw you blast those scavengers; do you think you could destroy that shard on our way out?”

  Isalyn yelled from inside the ship. “You mean that glowing thing out there? It stinks of false Sentinel to me. We’re not going anywhere near it!”

  “Please!” Elion begged. “Could you try?”

  “Sorry kid, stuff like that is super dangerous. Could kill us all. The cannon beam interacts with different matter in unique ways, so we’re not going to just shoot it at a mysterious crystal.”

  “Well, then pick up the bomb?” Elion said. “You could fly over the Shard, drop the bomb on it.”

  “You coming or not?” Rennick asked. “We had Dorian’s forces hot on our tail coming out of Erod, and even though Isalyn managed to shake them, they’ll be back on our tail soon enough. It’s now or never.”

  “Can we pick up a friend?” Elion asked. “She’s going to be in big trouble if I just leave—”

  “We’ve got like five minutes,” Isalyn yelled. “Let’s get out of here!”

  Rennick reached for Elion, but he stepped back, out of reach. “We’re here for you , kid,” he said. “Not getting involved.”

  Elion glanced over his shoulder. The people in Aterfel needed him. Keyla needed him. Gorman had to be stopped.

  Liora needed his help too. He needed to get to Zev, be somewhere safe from Dorian’s warlocks. It would be easier for Zev if he only had to worry about rescuing Liora.

  I’m not the only one working to save Liora now. Zev can train me. I'll be able to help him with whatever problem he’s facing.

  Elion extended his hand, and Rennick grasped it, helping Elion step up onto the platform.

  “Welcome aboard, son,” he said. The platform started to rise, and a miserable feeling settled on Elion’s shoulders like a millstone.

  Keyla didn’t deserve this.

  The platform lifted them toward the ship. Elion’s head had nearly reached the belly of the ship.

  He thought about Keyla, desperately searching the faces of the scavengers across the river, searching for her mother. He knew what it felt like to miss your parents. To long to be with them again.

  The last time he had seen his mom, she tucked him in bed and gave him a kiss on the forehead. He could still see her outline against the door of his bedroom as she left. When he woke up the next morning, she was gone.

  His heart ached.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. He ducked through the narrowing gap between the platform and the ship, leaping to the ground. He tripped, sprawling on the uneven terrain.

  “Hey!” Rennick called behind him, but Elion scrambled to his feet. “Get back here!”

  “I can’t leave yet!” Elion said, running into the forest.

  Branches whipped Elion’s face and arms. Roots and undergrowth tried to trip him up. He ran hard, unsure if Rennick followed him. The darkness hindered his speed, but he moved as quickly as he could. When he narrowly missed impaling himself on the branches of a fallen tree, he stopped, listening for signs of pursuit.

  The only noise was the sound of the skyskimmer, rumbling as it streaked past overhead. Rennick hadn’t been joking about it being now or never. Elion tripped, tumbling into the dirt.

  What have I done? That was my ride out of here! Rennick had said that warlocks were after him. Even if Gorman hadn’t sold out Elion’s location, they were certainly going to come here now. He should have just gone with them, and then gathered resources to come back and help. That would have been the smart move.

  Climbing back to his feet, Elion continued through the forest, trying to stick to a straight line. He thought he was heading back the way he came, angling for the bike he’d left back at the road. He’d made his decision, and now he’d better get on with it.

  In the darkness, without a path, Elion got the sense that he was walking in circles. Even if he did get lost, the island was small enough that he’d eventually find a road. But he had to hurry if he was going to make it back in time to help.

  Then, as the first shades of blue colored the sky to the east, he stumbled onto a track he recognized.

  This was the trail that led from the town to the Altar. Elion started toward the town, then he stopped, patting the Ascendency stones in his pocket. He remembered what Keyla had told him, about saving them up and getting more value out of them at higher levels.

  He had five Ascendency Stones; four of Gorman’s Skillstones and his one remaining Tear. He also had the three Festrin Shards, though who knew if those worked the same way as cends from True Sentinels.

  If he remembered Keyla’s math correctly, eight stones would bring him all the way up to level seven.

  The Altar was close. A quick stop there, and he could return to the town, having improved his abilities. Gorman had mentioned that leveling up meant he’d be able to spend more time in his Ascended state before starting to feel ill.

  Elion turned away from the town, jogging toward the Altar. To make sure he was back before the attack started, he had to be quick. He passed the place where he’d fought the Pemalion. Dark splotches of blood on stone marked the fighting.

  He did not stop to reminisce, but carried on toward the Altar. As he rounded a bend in the path, he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. A dark shape sprang out of the woods.

  A body collided with him, knocking him to the ground. Blinding pain ripped through his back.