Gemma didn't think.Her body moved before her mind caught up. The circle formed in her hand, a sphere of light dense as a heartbeat, and she hurled it forward.
The blast struck Jori full in the face.
He screamed, not in pain, but in surprise, and staggered back, clutching his eyes. The cavern walls flared white, every corpse casting long, wild shadows. The sound echoed off the stone like laughter trapped in a bell.
When he looked up again, he was smiling.Half his face was raw, the flesh cracked and shining wet. Smoke curled from the edge of his hairline.
"Well," he said, voice trembling between delight and agony, "that was something."
Gemma raised her hand again, ready to strike, but he waved it off with a casual flick, the way one might dismiss a pet that misbehaved.
"Don't bother," he said. "You've already done your part."
He turned his burned cheek toward her. The skin shimmered faintly, like oil on water. "It'll heal soon enough. The light likes me. It always does."
Gemma's voice came out low, trembling. "The light...can heal you?"
"Of course it can." He grinned wider, showing teeth streaked with blood. "You just have to know how to ask. Everything bends to it eventually. Flesh. Stone. People." He laughed softly. "Faith."
Her pulse thundered. "You're lying."
"Am I?" He tilted his head, almost pitying. "You saw what happened up there, the explosion, the voices, the light tearing through your friends. You think that was the wind? That was me, Gemma. All this is me."
He raised his hand. The air thickened, humming with invisible pressure. A lattice of pale light spun from his palm and wrapped around her, binding her to the rock wall. The strands pressed into her arms and chest, tightening like bands of hot glass. She couldn't move. The light hummed, alive, vibrating against her skin.
Jori stepped close. His bare feet made no sound on the stone. He reached up, brushing his fingers against her neck, almost tenderly.
"I don't like killing those like me," he said, his voice calm again, steady. "But you're different. You glow brighter. You feel it, don't you? The weight behind your ribs? That's what I want."
"Don't..." she gasped, but he was already touching her.
The light around them pulsed, deepened. Gemma felt something enter her skin, thin as thread, sharp as ice. It slid beneath her flesh, worming its way inside, and then it began to pull. Her vision fractured into flashes of white and gold. Her breath caught. It felt like her very being was being peeled away.
"Beautiful," Jori whispered, eyes half-closed. "It's like listening to the inside of a prayer."
Gemma tried to scream but no sound came. The world narrowed to light and pain and his voice.
And then...A snap cut the air.A sound clean and final as glass breaking.
Jori's head jerked back. A black shaft jutted from his forehead, the arrow buried deep to the fletching. For a moment, he stood perfectly still, eyes wide, lips parted.
Then he fell.
The light bindings vanished instantly, collapsing into dust. Gemma dropped to her knees, gasping, clutching at her throat.
Aros was already there, bow in hand, breath ragged, eyes wide with horror. He crossed the cave in three strides and caught her by the shoulders."Gemma! Talk to me, are you hurt?"
She shook her head, dizzy. "I...no. I think I'm fine. Just..."Her voice broke. "I felt him inside me. Like he was taking something."
Aros looked past her, at Jori's body sprawled on the ground, the arrow still quivering in his skull. "He won't take anything again."
He helped her up, one arm around her waist. She leaned against him as they made for the tunnel. Her legs felt unsteady, the cave spinning in dull, slow circles. The light she tried to summon to guide their way came faint and flickering, no more than a candle's breath.
They reached the narrow passage. The air outside felt almost kind, cool, sharp, real. Gemma took a deep breath and tasted salt and soil.They were only a few steps from the open air when a sound stopped them cold.
Footsteps.
Slow. Wet.Coming from behind.
Aros turned, raising his bow again, but there was no mistaking the shape that stepped into the faint light of the cave's mouth.
Jori.
He stood upright. His hair hung in strings, his skin pallid. The arrow was still lodged in his skull, blood seeping down the bridge of his nose, but his mouth was smiling, wide and perfect.
The hole in his forehead glowed.Light leaked from it, faint but steady, pulsing in rhythm with a heartbeat that shouldn't have existed.
"You're hard to kill, old man," Jori said lightly, voice distorted by the echo of two tones at once, his own, and something deeper beneath it. "But then again, so am I."
Aros pulled Gemma behind him, raising his bow again, but Jori only laughed softly.
Outside, voices were shouting, their people, closing in. The sound made Jori glance toward the cave's mouth."That's my cue," he said. "Wouldn't want to spoil the reunion."
He took a step backward, into the dark. His grin widened. "We'll see each other again, Gemma. You and I...we're not finished."
And before Aros could loose the arrow, Jori was gone.
The cave fell silent except for the faint hiss of dying light.
Gemma leaned against the wall, trembling. "He's alive," she whispered.
Aros lowered the bow, his jaw tight. "Not for long."
But deep down, even he didn't sound like he believed it.