Chapter Forty-One
“Not giving up so soon,” The Siphon croons, hollow and low, and I don’t know which chills me more—its voice, or that it can speak at all.
“Never,” Ryder snarls, blade arcing in a vicious sweep. The creature shrieks as an arm is severed—only for it to slump into a puddle and seep back into the ground like living tar.
“Not until you’re dead,” Ryder continues, “and Nyxos is locked away forever.”
“You will never defeat me without your Gifts. The Gods may make you powerful, but without them you’re nothing,” the creature hisses. “Now, all I must do is keep you puny creatures entertained until the fire burns out. Then you are mine. And the world… is His.”
“No!” River shouts, sweat streaking his forehead, breaths harsh and ragged. “We freed your army. They’re not under your trance anymore. You won’t have their power.”
“I don’t need them.” The thing laughs, slow and delighted. “You thought they were for me? They are a feast for Nyxos. The sun is all the power I require. Once it is consumed, Nyxos will revel in darkness as he always has. I only brought the meal to spare him the effort… but he does enjoy a hunt.”
My stomach sinks. Every strike I’ve landed, every slash, every shock—it reforms. The Siphon doesn’t tire. And when the fire finally collapses, it will escape, go straight to Nyxos, and then our world will descend into a nightmare.
I grit my teeth. “What are you?” I snarl.
The creature tilts its head, sludge dripping from its shoulders. “What, you don’t recognise me? Not even you, Nala?” Its featureless face turns toward her.
“Don’t look at her!” I shout, stepping between them, chopping its arm off, but it regrows just as quickly, sickeningly longer than it was before.
“Maybe it’s this form you don’t recognise. How about now?”
The sludge liquefies, peeling away in slow, repulsive sheets. My breath catches as the shape beneath is revealed—
“…Charlie?” Nala whispers. Shock freezes her features.
Charlie smiles—a warped, broken shadow of the boy we knew—before sludge curled around him like blackened armour.
“After your little circus act at the mountain,” he says, voice soft and venomous, “Nyxos called to me. He saw my potential… asked to use my vessel. I said yes, of course.”
He raises a hand. River gasps. Ryder stiffens. Nala’s breath catches. They freeze mid-motion, eyes wide with horror.
“And do you know what I find really funny… The fact that you caused this.” his words sting. “All of this.”
River and Nala look at me, their brows tightening, as confusion warps their features. “It’s ironic, don’t you think?” A sick grin spreads on his face. “In trying to save everyone, you released the one thing that could damn them all.”
I want to tell them it’s not true, that he’s lying, but I don’t… because it is my fault
“Shut up!” I yell, taking another writhing limb off. It falls with a sick thud, this time not regenerating.
“Come on, Asha, do your worst, I can’t wait to see what mistakes you’ll make this time around…
I can’t wait to watch the world burn because of you.
” It laughs deep and dry like there’s gravel stuck in its lungs.
Its words freeze me momentarily before Ryder swings his sword and takes its head clean off.
“You talk too much.” He says, his blade shimmering in black ink.
Silence follows for a moment, and all you can hear is the roar of the fire and our laboured breaths.
Then the sludge reforms and takes shape again.
My heart stammers. I was naive to think it would be over this quickly.
“Nice swing,” Charlie looks to Ryder. “But I’ll be taking that.”
His tendrils stretch with lightning speed and take Ryder’s blade, throwing it out of the ring, leaving him unarmed.
“My mother’s death,” it says softly, stepping toward me, each sludge-coated foot slapping the earth, “is on your hands.”
I anchor my feet, lifting my chin, and refusing to move. He stops inches from me.
“You took the only person I ever loved,” he murmurs, sweeping his black eyes over my friends, lingering on Ryder. “So now, I’m going to take the people you love.”
Suddenly, I hear my friends choke, their feet leaving the ground as an invisible force compresses them. Ryder thrashes blindly, cleaving only smoke, and Kareem tumbles down, leaving Nala vulnerable.
It holds them with its power and drifts them closer to the roaring fire. My heart hammers.
“No!” I shout. “Stop!”
I leap after them, clawing for anything—boots, ankles, fabric—but my hands slide uselessly away. They surge faster than thought, racing toward the flames, writhing uselessly.
My mind fractures, whirling through every possible ending. None of them are survivable.
Ryder flinches as fire snaps inches from his face, heat curling his brows, and I’m certain my heart forgets how to beat.
“Enough!” I scream.
The word tears out of me, raw and furious—and something inside me answers.
Power detonates through my veins. The fire doesn’t rise or flicker anymore. It marches.
Flames twist and condense, taking shape—dozens of them—human silhouettes forged entirely of fire, standing at my command, blazing with purpose and wrath. An army born in a heartbeat.
For one stunned moment, I can only stare.
So can the Siphon.
The circle tightens around it, heat crashing inward. In a single, panicked motion, the Siphon releases my friends, hurling them aside as the fire closes in. I sprint to them while my burning army tears into the creature, hacking it down as it shrinks, thrashes, weakens.
I grab Nala’s hand, hauling her upright. Ryder and River stagger to their feet beside us, coughing, almost scorched but alive.
Hope sparks—dangerous and fragile, but there.
The fire cages the Siphon, walls of flame pressing close, relentless. For a breathless second, it looks like we’ve done it, defeated it.
Then I hear it.
Laughter.
Low and amused.
I turn slowly, dread crawling up my spine.
“Another mistake,” the Siphon says softly. “Power.”
With what looks like one breath, he inhales, and the army vanishes in a single, horrifying pull, snuffed out as if it never existed. Fire collapses into nothing but scorched earth. The ring around us dims, weakened, trembling.
“Delicious,” the Siphon murmurs.
If it had a mouth, I know it would be licking its lips.
My stomach drops.
We retreat instinctively, shoulders pressed together, exhaustion dragging at our limbs as the Siphon advances, larger and stronger than before.
There’s no fire left to hide behind.
No strength left to bluff with.
No way out.
We are completely, utterly screwed.
Just then.
Ziek crashes into the ring through the remnants of the fire, his men not far behind.
He hits hard, plunging his spear straight through the Siphon’s core, pinning him to the ground in a violent burst of primal action. He looks at me once, over his shoulder, and nods—calm, composed, lethal. Like this was always how it would go.
Ryder runs to get his sword from the sleeping fire, but he doesn’t get it in time. I look around for a weapon… anything. But there’s nothing around.
“Ziek—wait!” I scream, my throat aching.
Too late.
The Siphon’s fingers elongate, liquefying into black, grasping tendrils that snap around Ziek’s head. He doesn’t even have time to cry out. The creature drinks him dry—life, power, everything—draining him like a straw.
It swells, doubling in size as if it took more than just Ziek’s energy… it took his vengence too.
I scream his name, but the wind screams louder, swallowing the sound of it whole.
Ziek lifts into the air, trapped in the Siphon’s grip. My throat closes as the color drains from his face. His body withers before my eyes, collapsing in on itself, skin shrinking tight against bone, armour sagging as if it no longer remembers the shape of a man.
There is nothing left to save. Even if I reached him—if I poured every breath I had into his lungs—there is not enough of him left to return. His skin and bones look fragile, as though a single breath of wind could scatter him into nothing.
Kalia’s face forces its way into my thoughts—her eyes red and streaming, a child now growing up without a father. Because of me. The ache settles deep in my chest, crushing, but it doesn’t end there.
Almost at once, Charlie’s tendrils lash out again. They coil around Ryder. Around River. Around Nala. Just like they did with Ziek. Life drains from them in silence. Then from Ziek’s men. From the students. From everyone close enough to reach.
One by one.
Until I am the only one left standing on the ground.
Me and the Siphon.
Watching my friends die.
“Stop!” I scream, jagged and raw. “Let them go!”
Something inside me snaps.
It isn’t thought.
It isn’t strategy.
It’s rage—hot, blinding, immediate.
We’ve already lost.
I’ll be damned if he thinks I’m going to make this easy on him.
Ziek’s body hits the ground with a sound I’ll hear for the rest of my life, and the world narrows to the thing that did this. The Siphon. That monster. Charlie.
It took Ziek. It took everything from him, and now it’s taking my friends. Ryder. My father.
In that moment, all I can think about is making it hurt the way it’s hurt us. The way it’s hurt me.
I don’t breathe. I don’t plan.
I unleash.
Power rips out of my chest in a violent surge, flooding my veins, my bones, my hands.
Light explodes from me—amethyst and gold tearing through the creature like a star going supernova.
The ground fractures outward in a massive ring, its distorted body forced back by the sheer impact of it.
The Siphon shrieks as the blast slams into its core, shadow peeling away in burning sheets.
Bodies drop to the floor. Some alive. Some unmoving.
“Scream,” I snarl, voice tearing itself raw. “Suffer as they did.”
The creature recoils, limbs flailing, its form distorting under the weight of my fury. For one terrible, beautiful second, I think I’ve done it. I think I’ve hurt it.
Then it laughs again.
The sound crawls under my skin.
“Yes…” It croons, voice thick with hunger. “That’s it. Give me more.”
Cold terror punches through my rage.
Its tendrils whip toward me—not striking, not attacking—connecting. They slam into my chest, my arms, my throat, sinking beneath my skin like hooks.
And suddenly—
I’m emptying.
My power doesn’t obey me anymore. It rips free, dragged out in violent streams of light, siphoned straight into the creature’s core. The brilliance dims as it leaves me, my limbs growing heavy, my breath stuttering.
“So much power… Nyxos likes you.” He drools, sludge dripping from where his mouth should be.
“No—stop—!” I gasp, clawing at the tendrils, but my hands pass through them like smoke.
The Siphon grows.
Its shape swells, edges sharpening, form stabilising—stronger, more solid than before. My power wraps around it like a crown.
“Oh, little Asha,” it purrs, its voice folding around my name like a caress. “Who would have thought you would burn this bright?”
My knees buckle.
The world tilts violently, cinders and smoke blurring into streaks of grey and gold. My heart pounds too fast, then too slow. Every breath hurts. My hands tremble, light flickering weakly between my fingers before dying out completely.
I fall to one knee, then both.
Ryder shouts my name somewhere far away. River’s voice follows—panicked, hoarse—but I can’t answer them. I can barely hear them.
The Siphon leans in closer.
“This is how you end,” it whispers. “Shame you won’t get to meet him.”
Dark spots creep into my vision as the last of my strength bleeds out of me.
My chest feels caved in, like something vital has been scooped away.
I wanted to hurt it.
Instead—
I fed it.