It took everything Hump had to keep the dungeon essence from boiling out of his body. Without a formation to infuse it with intent, it was down to his own mind and will. It fought against him like steam trapped in a container too small, stretching his channels to their fullest. A single gap and it would all explode out. One slip up, one moment of weakness, and its intent would overwhelm him. Hump wouldn’t let it. This was his power, and it would obey him.

His eyes were fixed on Abraxus—there was a red tint to the world now, or at least, this small section of it. Abraxus’ fabricated wall surrounded them entirely, cutting off Hump’s view of the battle beyond.

“It will do you no good,” Abraxus said. His mind was so far gone now, Hump couldn’t even guess what he was seeing. “Your corrupt powers cannot make up for hard earned strength.”

Hump felt the pressure of the inquisitor’s soul descend on him once more. Chains flickered into existence, manifesting from his body with a black-iron glow. They flew toward Hump from all directions, the manacles on the ends open like crab claws looking to latch onto him.

Hump slammed his staff into the ground. “Shield.”

Essence poured from it, expanding into a sphere around him, stained red by the tree’s power. A net of channels formed within the barrier, criss-crossing in bright red lines. Essence leaked off it in thick streams, the power within Hump’s body too much for him to control efficiently. It didn’t matter; there was no shortage of essence to fuel it.

The chains wrapped around the Shield and squeezed tightly, grating against its surface. It screeched as the barrier compressed, essence leaking from it even faster. Even through it, Hump felt the same tightness in his core. Pain shot through him like his insides were being crushed. Ice welled in his core, expanding through his body and making him gasp. For a second, he was distracted. That was all it took for essence to burst from him, exploding from the back of his shoulder in a red streak. He fought to close the gap and threw even more essence into his Shield. Reinforcing it and pressing it back out.

Somehow, he managed to control his breathing. The chains went taut. They creaked as he pushed harder, essence raging all around him, then finally the links shattered, breaking apart into glimmering shards of essence that dissipated into the air.

The weight of Abraxus’ essence vanished and Hump dropped his Shield, aiming his staff straight at the inquisitor. What came next wasn’t a spell, it was raw intent given manifest. He envisioned the inquisitor gone, and with the strength of a dungeon behind his will, that was all he needed. Essence exploded from his staff in a red and blue wave.

Abraxus crossed his arms over his chest, staff still in his hands as he braced himself. He roared. His Armour of Essence shone brighter as he poured power into his defence. He embedded himself in place, moulding stone around his feet and calves, and latching onto the earth with bronze tendrils of light.

Hump’s magic struck him, his entire body lost beneath the concentrated jet of power. As it faded, Abraxus remained in place. His shield magic had dissipated into tiny scraps of essence. Stone flaked from his skin, leaving bloodied flesh beneath. He breathed heavily, staring at Hump, fury in his eyes. Behind him, his fabricated wall collapsed. With his armour gone, Hump saw the wounds left behind from the inquisitor’s battle with Corvin’s party. He had a stab wound in his side, and a long slice down his right leg.

End him, came a whisper in Hump’s ear. Now is your chance to take revenge. Kill him!

Hump shook his head. He wouldn’t do it. Abraxus wasn’t himself—someone had infected his mind.

A staff bashed through what remained of the wall, and Dylan appeared. His vines lashed forward, grappling Abraxus and dragging him backward and away from Hump, pinning him to the ground.

“Don’t kill him,” Hump blurted. “He’s been enthralled.”

Dylan looked at him, then whirled as one of the plant-puppeted dead came at him from the side.

Hump leant heavily against his staff, suddenly out of breath. Expending so much essence exhausted him. He could already feel it in his fingers and toes. Icy cold crawled up his arms and legs, inching toward his core.

He glanced toward the battle, driven by fear. The warlocks had to know something was going on now. He spotted Anthony still atop his stone platform, thirteen channels of essence expanding around him. He was alone now. It took only moments for Hump to notice the warlocks rushing in their direction.

Then he noticed something else. Another powerful magic joining the mix of forces within the Upper City, radiating enough essence that it couldn’t just be something from Countess Daston or Sir Roderick.

Whatever it was, he pushed it from his mind. They didn’t have long now.

Abraxus was already forcing his way out of the vines, but Bud and Corvin pinned him to the ground. Hump didn’t want to think about where the rest of Corvin’s party might be, but he hadn’t seen them since Patrick had gone down.

“We’ll hold him,” Bud shouted. “Hump, destroy the tree!”

Hump nodded, trying to appear confident. It was a risk with his control already waning but he had a job to do. His exhaustion didn’t matter. He reached for more dungeon essence, willing it to push back the cold of essence overuse.

His vision blurred at the sudden rush of essence. It tugged at his mind, its own chaotic and destructive intent filling him. He fought to remember who he was and what he was doing. The world was completely red now, and Hump felt something else stir inside him. A tendril of familiar essence wormed its way into his soul—the gorger trying to take advantage of his weakened state to distract him. Reinvigorating power flowed through him, making him want to burst.

Death crept up on him, so hard and fast the rest of his mind was lost to it. All he felt was the deep, unending desire for death, and the dark, resonating thrum of Anthony’s voice. Even the red of the world faded now, replaced by darkness. Hump felt as if he’d fallen through a pool. On the other side, he slowed down until he was floating. Anthony’s voice was distant now, a dull murmur where the words were impossible to make out. He was a ball of light, just as he had been when he’d fought the gorger, but he wasn’t alone. Thousands upon thousands of lights surrounded him, some brighter than others, but all of them so full of life it made him feel like he wasn’t alone.

And there was something else. A web of red that connected everything, with large spheres of power at their cores. It was the trees. All of them spread out in Sheercliff, their power seeping into every avenue of the city, encompassing it all. Beyond it, he saw something else. Beyond it, a concentration of blue energy exploded against one side, breaking upon the web of essence but unable to pierce. At the centre of it all, he saw Anthony, his thirteen channels of essence like beacons that led back to him. His soul was dark and twisted, like a hundred fragments pressed into one and merged into something other.

That’s when it dawned on Hump what the lights were. Souls surrounded him like glimmering snowfall in the night. His heart twisted as he realised what Anthony was doing.

It was not just his death the warlock wanted; it was all of them. Every soul in Sheercliff.

Summonings usually required sacrifice—the more powerful the being, the greater the price. It seemed the price of a riftwalker might just be all of Sheercliff. Thousands upon thousands of souls trapped within the warlock web of roots and trees, and all of them would die if Anthony succeeded.

Hump gritted his teeth, anger burning through him, and bringing him back to his senses. He was Hump, and he would stop this. He would burn down the Tree of Damnation and this web of evil power. He fixed that thought in his mind until the intent of both the gorger and the dungeon faded, and he was himself once more.

Hump felt a familiar vibration at his hip and he pulled his spellbook from his belt. It practically leapt into his hand, the pages flying open, essence pouring from them.

SPELLBOOK

Planar Calling

Conjuration | Formation | Tier 8

Description

Conjure a portal to another plane, linking the two locations together and granting access to the target of the spell.

Notes

y.424 – Nithrand – I record this spell on the day the city of Lastrogath was lost and Uvdar’s shrine was desecrated. The first seal is broken.

The sight of the formation left Hump cold. It radiated evil, and as Hump read the notes left behind by his predecessor, he realised why. Lastrogath, the Heaven City, and the heart of the Fallen Lands. It was the former home of Uvdar, the fallen thirteenth god, and where the Hell Pit first opened to begin the destruction of Alveron. Somehow, it was all connected.

Fear welled in Hump as he realised the warlocks may have stolen something far more devastating from Osidium’s shrine than he’d first realised. Perhaps it was the essence stone that Anthony now wielded, and now it was being used to summon a beast that would turn Sheercliff into the next Lastrogath.

As Hump felt frozen in fear, he felt a sliver of warmth enter his core, bringing him back from darker thoughts. He sensed the worry of his unhatched dragon, along with the hope it had. Its touch was enough to clear Hump’s mind. Wallowing in fear and self-pity would accomplish nothing. He had to act. Success or failure, at least he would have tried to do something.

He turned toward the rift, stared up at the riftwalker. Its eyes were on him now. Him alone. He felt like an ant before a god. He was back in that dark place, facing the shadowy being, its eyes fixed on him. He felt fear, but he felt resolve. So many souls were at stake, not to mention all the lives that would be lost afterward.

Hump wouldn’t let it claim them. He wouldn’t let Anthony succeed.

He laid the spellbook on the ground, keeping the page open on the formation for Planar Calling, then he reached for the containment box that held the phoenix feather and unlocked it. Even unopened, heat radiated from within, yet Hump got the sense it wouldn’t harm him.

Hump took a moment to steady himself for what he was about to do. He extended his right arm, fist tight around his staff. In his left, he clutched the box to his chest. As powerful as this formation over Sheercliff was, he was willing to bet Anthony hadn’t accounted for phoenix fire. The thought of that made Hump smile.

He started with the most risky element of his plan—the dungeon essence that rampaged through his body. If he let it control him, everything would fall to pieces. It had to be his. He cycled it through his channels, envisioning the river through his body, connecting everything in a constant stream. He moved it constantly, adding it to his own essence, one stream of power that would do his bidding. This was the power that could both create and claim life, and it was connected to the tree. He fixed that fact in his mind, along with the web of trees throughout Sheercliff, and Anthony’s formation, his eyes fixed on his spellbook.

He felt the dungeon essence within him cave to his intent. It flowed more smoothly, a part of him rather than simply borrowed strength. With the waves calmed, he drew upon the strength of his soul, calling upon his desire to protect the people of this city. It rose within him like a fire, and a dragon’s roar echoed through him. This was his power, and it was ready.

There was only one thing left to do.

Hump flicked the lid of the box open, revealing the phoenix feather within. The feather was red along the shaft and barbs, but the tips radiated gold light. A divine heat washed over Hump, searingly hot, yet it didn’t burn him. Instead, it smothered him, surrounding him in golden essence so thick it was all he could see. He felt protected within it, as if it would shield him from the world beyond.

Tentatively, he reached for it. All it took was a sliver of intent, and it rushed to him, pouring in down his throat, piercing his skin. His body felt like it would tear apart as the three energies tore through him, filling him with both cold and heat at once. He could hardly bring together a coherent thought. It was just so much… Every inch of his body felt consumed by it. The world was nothing to him now. Whatever he wanted would be his. All would bend to him and his will.

Control it, he told himself, willing it to join his river and flow with his intent. The phoenix essence came willingly, the only intent from it he felt was eagerness to obey him. Light radiated from him in waves of gold, white, and red. It roared off him in a flaming aura, throwing back anything close to him.

He stood there at the base of the tree and faced the beast beyond the right one last time before turning his gaze down to his spellbook. Every shred of his will was directed toward his single intention.

He directed all of it to the formation before him. Power tore through him. it exploded from his core, spreading out through his body. The book rose before him, floating up until it was suspended before his chest. The formation filled with his three essences, the whole book shining like a beacon. Light glimmered in the heart of his staff’s focus, budding slowly at first before becoming so bright the entirety of the House of Stone was illuminated in his power.

Hump spread his arms toward the tree. It all had to burn—the formation, the web of essence and trees, Anthony’s spell. All of it must be destroyed.

“White Flame!” he roared, spreading his arms toward the tree, bringing to bear all the strength he had…

And then he let it loose.