Eadwolf had watched the duel from the manor’s rooftop. A rare treat, to witness someone as accomplished and formidable as Brianna Hammerfell swing her blade. Though the Dragonslayer Knight hadn’t exerted herself. Hadn’t needed to.

  Still.

  She was breathtaking. For a moment he imagined what it might have been like to go raiding with such a woman.

  Then he smirked at his own foolishness and let the dream fade.

  But as wondrous as Brianna’s brief manifestation of her powers had been, what truly interested him was Harald.

  Even from afar Eadwolf’s Wolf Sight revealed much of the boy’s powers. And what Eadwolf had seen had chilled him.

  Did the youth even know what he was becoming? No. Impossible. He’d slit his own wrists if he did. He was Level 9, sure, but in many ways, he was only now growing into his Class. Only now was he beginning to manifest the first true signs of his sovereignty. What would he be like at Level 12? The angels forbid, at Level 16?

  Eadwolf resisted the old urge to touch his fingers to his brow to summon the aegis of the wolf spirits from the north.

  Still. The boy was a mess. Practically tripping over his own feet, metaphorically, when it came to using his new powers. He’d consolidated. That much was obvious. But he was wielding them clumsily, not even understanding what he was, what he’d become.

  Like a toddler trying to walk in his father’s slippers.

  Brianna quit the lawn.

  Harald remained behind, gazing up at the moon. He cut a tragic figure in the silvery light. Lonely and melancholic.

  Eadwolf placed a hand on the retaining wall, then hesitated. He could show him. Teach him. Use Wolf Sight to guide him. But given what the lad was to become, would that be doing Harald himself a disservice?

  Eadwolf removed his hand, considered. Watched. Harald. A good man. Or so he’d deemed during their brief encounter back when Anna had first hired him. But good men could turn their hands to fell deeds. Intentions were insufficient.

  Perhaps Eadwolf should cut Harald down. He still could. Not for much longer, perhaps, but tonight, being two levels higher, and with his set of powers? He could creep up behind the young man and slit his throat.

  It would be doing Harald a favor.

  Eadwolf scowled. He’d assassinated men before. It wasn’t that he was squeamish. But Harald was…

  Eadwolf trailed off, unable to put the sentiment to words. Harald stood on the edge of a knife. But he was trying. He was trying to do what was right. And he had Kársek and Sam.

  Would that be enough?

  Did Eadwolf have the right to pronounce judgment?

  Out on the lawn, Harald lowered his head.

  Damn it.

  Hand on the retaining wall, and he vaulted into the night, to drop silently onto the lawn and approach, quiet as a ghost’s exhalation.

  Harald marked his approach when he was but a handful of paces away, and spun about, startled. “Oh! Eadwolf. Didn’t… didn’t see you there.”

  Eadwolf smiled. “It’s dangerous to get too caught up in your thoughts. You never know who might come up behind you and cut your throat.”

  Harald grinned. “With you on watch? What do I have to fear?”

  “What indeed,” murmured Eadwolf. “I watched your duel with Lady Hammerfell.”

  Harald’s smile dropped. “Some duel.”

  “I don’t think you appreciate what you did.”

  “What, dance around her and exhaust her patience?”

  “She agreed to duel. That in and of itself is an honor. And your powers were of sufficient note that you registered them. Harald. She’s Brianna Hammerfell. A Dragonslayer Knight and Level 14. That you were even able to make her react to you is an incredible accomplishment.”

  Harald looked like he wanted to protest further, but instead grimaced. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Thanks.”

  “But it’s a wonder that you did, given how clumsy and inept you are with your own abilities.”

  There, the shock and surprise. “What? I hit her with everything I had—”

  “Who taught you how to consolidate?”

  “An angel. Brauxis. He kind of told me what to do, then let me figure it out.”

  “An angel?” Eadwolf raised a brow in surprise. “I’d have thought he’d know more about what he was doing, then. Perhaps the wisdom of the angels is overstated.”

  Harald peered at him curiously. “How so?”

  “Then again,” continued Eadwolf, “perhaps not. Angels and demons and monsters of the dungeon are different than we mortals. They manifest their powers naturally. A goblin on the 12th Level doesn’t need to be taught how to use his knife. A demon on the 50th doesn’t learn how to make his enemies afraid. This Brauxis probably understood his own powers intuitively in just the same manner. Which is why he was such a terrible teacher.”

  Harald took a step closer. There was a new fluidity to the way he moved, something verging on the unnatural, that hadn’t been there before. “What did he not tell me?”

  “The Houses have perfected methods for guiding their raiders through consolidation. It’s one of their primary virtues. Without it, raiders will manifest their new powers and fumble at them, unsure what they’re doing. No two raiders grow alike, but the method of teaching them, helping them understand their own powers, is the same. You need an instructor whose own powers grant them insight and enough experience to illuminate the path.”

  “Which you have?” Harald sounded skeptical. “I thought you were primarily a sword master.”

  Eadwolf chuckled. “I am, at that. The Houses would not look on kindly if I began freelancing in an area they guard so generously. But the very powers that once made me a decent hunter now allow me to understand my students better than they understand themselves. When I saw you fighting Brianna, I saw that you still don’t understand what you’ve become. You’re trying to use your powers as they were pre-consolidation. You understood them enough to merge them but have yet to grasp what they’ve become.”

  Harald’s eyes lit up. “And you can teach me?”

  “You think I came over here for the sake of an evening chat?”

  “Great! All right. I’m ready. Where do we begin?”

  “First tell me your powers. What they were, what they’ve become.”

  Harald did so. Clearly and concisely.

  “Hmm.” Eadwolf tried to keep his tone even, to hide his sudden bout of nerves. How many years had it been since last he’d undertaken to train a raider with such terrifying potential. “Let’s begin with the simplest and most obvious. Your Form of the Black Throne.”

  “Right,” said Harald.

  Eadwolf reached out with Hunter’s Mark and evaluated the young man before him. “You’re holding yourself back. You’re still thinking of Form as something you will into being. You said Dark Vigor was akin to fuel, Shadow Fortitude adapted you, Umbral Aegis protected when summoned, and Veil of Shadows was a form of communion you could establish with the dark. But only Shadow Fortitude operated passively all the time.”

  Harald nodded, listening intently.

  Eadwolf grinned. “Your body has its own memory. Your mind can be a prison. You’re actively repressing your new power in a bid to match what the old four once did. You said Dark Vigor once sheathed you in flames. I saw none such during the fight. That’s because those flames were once foreign—a coating of the abyss over human flesh. Your new Form no longer produces flames because there’s nothing foreign to see.”

  “I… see?”

  “What I’m sensing, what I’m seeing, is that you’re no longer entirely human, Harald. You’re now part shadow, part flesh, part abyssal will, woven together below your conscious awareness. You look human. You move in a mostly human way. But you’re now operating on rules that flesh alone doesn’t obey. And that will only become truer as you level.”

  Harald stared wide eyed down at his hands. “But…?”

  “But you’re repressing it. Without realizing it. Close your eyes. Dive deep. Revisit the epiphany you had when you discovered Form. Internalize it.”

  Harald did as he was bid. Settled his shoulders and exhaled. Then frowned.

  One blow. One cross-cut across the throat. He trusts me completely. But… even now it might be too late.

  Eadwolf grimaced and stayed still.

  “I… yeah. I think…” Harald stilled. Nothing happened for a long time. Minutes crawled by. Eadwolf watched him patiently, and then a single vertical line appeared between Harald’s brows. “I see what you mean. If I…”

  Something subtle about the young man changed. His outline softened, as if his edges had grown slightly blurred, and he seemed to shift minutely from side to side while standing still, as if Eadwolf himself was having trouble tracking him.

  And Harald sighed, as if something had eased.

  “That’s…” He opened his eyes again to study his hands. “Huh.” Amusement and delight in that one exhalation. “My stats… I’ve unlocked the +4’s to Strength, Dexterity, and Constitution. They’re… I’d not even thought of them during the fight against Brianna. Now…”

  “Now they’re just part of who you are,” agreed Eadwolf. “And?”

  “And you’re right. I can feel the darkness inside of me. Dark Vigor and Shadow Fortitude are now just… part of me. Because I’m part shadow. Not mostly shadow. Just part. But it’s…” He frowned and looked up. “And my shadow armor? You’re saying I don’t need to summon it?”

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  “Let’s see.” On a hunch, Eadwolf drew his sword and whipped it across to thwap its flat-side against Harald’s arm.

  “Hey!” Harald stepped away in annoyance, but Eadwolf noted that his own speed was still sufficient to catch the young man flat-footed. “Oh.” Harald paused and touched his arm. “That didn’t hurt.”

  “Roll up your sleeve.”

  Harald did so. His forearm was unmarked by bruises in the silvery light. “Now, let’s try that again.”

  Eadwolf struck at Harald’s arm. There was a flash of something under his skin. A darkening, a hardening, as if his body had momentarily become other just a moment before contact. Eadwolf’s blade struck at something as hard as rock and bounced off.

  “Oh wow,” breathed Harald. “I didn’t even summon that. It just… happened.”

  “Stand still,” said Eadwolf, and began to circle Harald, striking at him with the flat of his blade again and again. Each blow was rebuffed.

  Eadwolf picked up speed.

  Just as he was beginning to think the boy was truly a prodigy for Level 9, his next strike cracked into Harald’s ribs and caused the boy to leap away—not in pain, but in confusion.

  “That one got through.” Harald stared down at his side. “Didn’t hurt, or more like, I didn’t feel any pain, but it hit me faster than my… armor? Could manifest.”

  “Makes sense,” said Eadwolf, sheathing his sword. “And in that it’ll be weaker for now than your old Aegis. That was a full shell. Protected you at all times. But it drained you tremendously as a result. Your new Form? It’s more efficient. Reactive. You only protect what needs defending, but if the blow arrives faster than the reflex can react, it’ll get through.”

  “But that’ll improve with levels?”

  “Of course.” Eadwolf studied the young man with Wolf Sight and then Hunter’s Mark. “But you’re no longer repressing your true nature. I can see it now. You’re letting your power flow through you. Be you. It’s who you are, now. Part shadow. Part abyss. Always and forever.”

  “Always and forever,” whispered Harald, but he didn’t sound thrilled.

  “That was the easy one. Now. Much as I’ll regret this, let’s try your Imperium. Tell me again about the constituent powers.

  Harald repeated what he’d said about Black Halo, Tenebral Surge, Abyssal Attunement, and Demonic Edge.

  “Nasty set of powers,” said Eadwolf when he was done. “And I could sense from afar what you were trying to do to Lady Hammerfell, but again, you’re still trapped in your old way of thinking. Summon it.”

  Harald blanched. “Now? On you?”

  Eadwolf laughed. “I’m not made of spun sugar, boy. I can’t evaluate it unless I experience it myself.”

  “All right,” said Harald dubiously. He backed away a few steps, and then the world around them shifted.

  The lawn, the night air, the world around Eadwolf suddenly felt like it had gotten sick. The lights didn’t go out so much as thin, the moon growing distant and grey, the silvery light on the grass dulling to lead. The natural sounds of the city at night grew muffled, losing their sharp edges, such that even Eadwolf’s Predator’s World felt blunted. The air didn’t grow so much cold as it did heavy, weighing down on his shoulders.

  Even as Eadwolf blinked and tried to steady himself. He felt the first bubblings of nausea ripple in his gut, but he focused on Harald, studied him with his powers.

  Even as he used Wolf Sight and Hunter’s Mark, a growing sense within him told him to go, to leave this place. The very land did not want him there.

  “Enough,” he said, voice thick.

  The air cleared, the moon brightened, and Eadwolf felt as if he could breathe deeply once more.

  “Interesting. And…” Frightening, he wanted to say, but caught himself in time. “It looks like you’re not clear on this power, either. Let’s see: your Attunement was contact based; it needed your blade to work. Edge was a ranged attack. Tenebral Surge covered everything, but only for a flash. And Black Halo was sustained, but only destroyed, no drain?”

  Harald nodded.

  “Each, then, did something the other couldn’t. And you had to keep switching, picking, choosing. But you realized that they could be combined. But you’re not truly combining them. And here’s where I think you’re tripping yourself up: the new consolidated power does all four things at once—or should—but at a lower individual intensity than any single one power did.”

  “I thought it was supposed to be a step up?”

  “It is,” laughed Eadwolf. “Are you kidding me? Sure, your new power isn’t focused in a directed arc, or explosive, or concentrated in a cloud of glass shards. It’s all four at once, continuously, at a reduced power level but with vastly increased coverage and persistence.”

  Harald still looked skeptical.

  Eadwolf sighed. “It’s almost become an aura. But that’s why I think you’re not weaponizing it as you should, as it’s still an active. You establish control over the battlefield. Once you initiate this power, it continuously molds the land around you. The battlefield doesn’t return to normal after an attack. The air stays thick, the nausea grows, the doubt… “Eadwolf trailed off, musing. “But you’re lacking the active attacks. You need to focus on those. Use Imperium again, but this time focus on me. Focus your aggression. Will Imperium to react to my presence.”

  “All right.” There was no hesitation this time. “You ready?”

  Eadwolf stepped back, briefly regretted his life decisions, then nodded.

  The air curdled once more. The moon seemed to recede and grow muted. Weight dropped on his shoulders, and his senses dimmed.

  Harald was a dark figure, menacing and steeped in darkness. For a moment all was as it had been, Eadwolf’s breathing becoming gradually more labored, his limbs growing slightly stiffer, and then the darkness formed around him, like ink poured into water, and pain flicked across his skin as the black cloud became a wealth of edges.

  Eadwolf used Flea’s Leap to bound up and out of the darkness, alarm bright even as Eternal Hide began to heal the wounds. But for a moment there it had felt like a dozen wire-thin blades passing over his skin, scoring through his clothing, slashing him apart.

  He landed ten yards away in a crouch, the pain already gone—but Countess Sonora’s lawn had changed.

  The very air was alive now in a way it hadn’t been moments before. Harald was gazing about himself in wonder, and from him a great exhalation came every few moments, like a pulse. As if Imperium itself was breathing. And as the first, then the second pulse washed over Eadwolf, he felt his vision blur, his sense of balance skew, his nausea rise—and then it diminished as the pulse left him.

  Eadwolf rose to his feet.

  Tiny motes of glittering dust floated slowly through the air. Wolf Sight warned him as to the danger they presented. Despite himself, trusting in Eternal Hide, he reached out to cup one such mote as it floated by.

  It cut through his palm like a razor.

  Eadwolf hissed and released it, letting it float on, his cut immediately sealing over. His eyes widened as he took in the battlefield anew. Gleaming motes like flecks of glass drifted gently in random patterns. Not a blizzard, but enough to be a persistent, unavoidable environmental lethality.

  Another pulse washed over him, and for a second he felt vertigo, his vision darkening, and then it was gone.

  “Enough!”

  Harald seemed to come back to himself and released Imperium.

  The moonlight brightened once more.

  “Damn, Harald.” Eadwolf tried to make himself sound proud as he strode toward him, picking at his own slashed clothing. “That was quite the jump in power.”

  “No, you were right.” Harald looked thoughtful. “Abyssal Imperium is all the powers before, just blended and… continuous. I was thinking of them as still being in there, separate, I guess, and just needing to be accentuated or something, but, when I focused on my anger on you… it all kind of blossomed. Like a flower.”

  “Like a flower, he says,” muttered Eadwolf.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Fine.” He forced a grin. “But I’d not want to stay inside your Imperium for long.”

  “I imagine not. The Black Halo… I could feel it. Where before it was centered on me, right, a ring with me at the hub, now it was just… everywhere. Drifting though my controlled space. Making the whole area feel like it belonged to me.”

  “And those pulses?” Eadwolf couldn’t’ control his curiosity. “That was new.”

  “Tenebral Surge, I guess. Yeah.” Harald scratched at the back of his head. “Before… never mind before. Now it feels like my heartbeat. Like Imperium breathes. And when I exert my will, I can unleash them. So, I guess they’re not totally constant. But it felt like I could just keep generating them. Forever.”

  “And the drain? Could you feel your power pulling at me?”

  “Yes. Abyssal Attunement, right. A gradual but very slight drain.” Harald considered. “Would be incredibly effective against a lot of enemies all at once, right?”

  “I mean…” Eadwolf’s mind blanked on the right way to praise that development. “That’s formidable.”

  “Yeah.” Harald still sounded stunned. “Though I doubt it would have changed anything against Brianna.”

  “I don’t think it would have. But that’s not the point. You’re still learning how to inhabit your new powers.”

  “Absolutely. Thank you.” Harald’s eyes shone. “I’d love your insight on my Well of Starless Dominion. I’m sure I haven’t wrapped my mind around that one yet.”

  “Well of Starless Dominion,” muttered Eadwolf. “Even their names are terrifying. Fine. Tell me about it again.”

  Harald did so. Recounted each power, how it had felt to use it in the past, right up to how the Starless Maw had tipped the battle against an overwhelming foe at House Celestara in his favor.

  “But now, when I use it, I can feel the Well open within my chest, within me, but it feels… I don’t know. I tried to manifest the Abyssal Grasp against Brianna, but they felt… wrong?”

  “Hmm.” Eadwolf sighed. “Show me what it can do.”

  “Right.” Harald rubbed his hands together, stepped back, then winced. “Apologies in advance.”

  “No worries.” Eadwolf took a deep breath. “Ready when you are.”

  Harald took a deep breath and opened his soul well.

  Not that Eadwolf could see it open within him, that conduit to the abyss. He just felt its effects immediately.

  From every cut that still lacerated his skin began to seep his own vitality. It didn’t burn. Didn’t freeze. Didn’t tug or spurt. It just… flowed, like blood into warm water, drifting out from his essence toward where Harald stood.

  A tiny but constant flow.

  Eadwolf’s throat constricted. He tried walking backward, and as he retreated the drain grew less.

  But it didn’t stop.

  The realization hit Eadwolf like a blow to the head. The entire time he’d theoretically have to fight Harald, this drain would be taking place. Sapping him of his will, his essence. Only by defeating Harald would he end the threat.

  Against his will, his every instinct urging him to escape the Well’s draining effect, he studied Harald with Wolf Sight and Hunter’s Mark.

  “You’re not embracing it!” he called.

  “Should I manifest my abyssal coils?”

  “No! You’re still thinking of the drain as something you do to people. It’s not. It’s something that happens around you. The Well is an aperture. You don’t need to reach for anyone. You just need to open it, and proximity should do the rest.” Eadwolf resisted the urge to growl as that gentle drain continued. “Think of it like gravity. The Well is gravity. You don’t point gravity. You just are it, and things fall toward you.”

  Harald bowed is chin. Struggled, hands clenching into fists.

  It took all Eadwolf’s will to just stand there, feeling his vitality leech gradually out of him, wisp by wisp. “Form isn’t something you summon, it’s just what you are. Imperium isn’t an attack you unleash; it’s the space you control. The Well isn’t a drain you direct. It’s a connection to the abyss you just bloody open in your chest. Each follows the same structure—stop thinking of consolidated power as the old powers stacked together. Start understanding it as a new thing with a unified nature.”

  “

  Then, with a gasp, Harald’s head jerked back up. “There! I see what you mean—”

  But Eadwolf didn’t hear the rest of it.

  The pressure on him had just tripled. The very air felt carnivorous, and a chill began to steal into his flesh as he found himself growing numbed by the drain.

  Worse, his Eternal Hide was no longer sealing the last of the cuts as it should. The lacerations weren’t closing anymore. He raised his hand to watch a long, razor-cut along its back just… stay open and red and raw. After years and years of being protected by Eternal Hide, of coming to take its power almost for granted, to watch a cut just… stay open… and to feel his vitality bleeding out through that wound…

  It was terrifying.

  Eadwolf lowered his gaze and stared at Harald. The youth was standing with his fists raised, head tilted back, eyes closed.

  Terrifying.

  Where Imperium had changed the very air, the world around him, and slashed and weakened his body through its assault, Well of Starless Dominion was draining him from the inside. There was no defending against this vitality drain. And there was a sublime, haunting synergy between the two—the more Imperium wounded a foe, the faster Well could drain them, empowering Harald, which in turn would make Imperium stronger.

  A cycle.

  A self-sustaining, self-enhancing cycle of death.

  “Enough!” His voice wavered more than he’d like. He steadied it. “That’s enough.”

  The drain on his essence, his soul, lessened, then ceased altogether. Eadwolf exhaled in relief and began to walk back to Harald.

  “That was fantastic!” Harald sounded genuinely enthused, which was somehow even more horrifying. “I could feel the Well’s power just pouring out of me. Or opening so that everything could pour in. You’re absolutely right. It’s its own thing. It’s there. Right now.” Harald placed his hand over his chest, and his expression sobered. “I’m holding it shut, but it’s there.”

  Eadwolf took a shaky breath. “You’re a natural. Just needed a nudge.”

  “One left,” said Harald. “Crown of the Abyssal Tyrant.”

  “Right.” Eadwolf studied the boy. Abyssal Imperium allowed him to be more dangerous in a fight. The Well made him more efficient at defeating his foes. Form made him harder to kill.

  But Crown?

  It would make Harald more compelling. More able to bend others to his will, to inspire loyalty, suppress dissent.

  Blank refusal arose within him. He might have spared the boy’s life tonight, but to empower his ability to command others, to bend the world to his desires?

  That was a step too far.

  He’d nothing against training raiders to be the best fighters they could be.

  But he’d play no part in creating a tyrant.

  “I think we’re done for tonight. You did well.” To show good humor he clapped Harald on the shoulder. “But enough for one night.”

  “All right.” Harald tried to hide his disappointment but failed. “Thank you, Eadwolf. For this, for helping Anna, for…” He shrugged. “For being a good friend. I won’t forget it.”

  “You’d better not,” rasped Eadwolf, turning to walk away. “For all our sakes.”