Cym looked around and saw monsters of every size, shape, and color ringing the field. There was nowhere to run. How could Sekt possibly have this many demons under his control? And what was he waiting for? Sekt obviously had the power he needed to enter the Demon Realm in style. Adding him and Marshall to his magic was unnecessary gluttony.

Marshall wrapped his arms around Cym, pulling him tight against his hard chest protectively. Then he said to Sekt, “Fuck off.”

Then he pulled.

In a flash, Cym was back inside Marshall’s mind. He cast around for his own pink magic, preparing for another onslaught of grief and pain, but instead, he felt like he was floating on an ocean of calm confidence. Marshall had gotten his shit together in an insanely short amount of time, and Cym couldn't help but be impressed.

:That was you, Stillbringer. Marshall is impressive, but without you, he’d be screwed right now.:

Great. More cryptic statements from a mysterious voice in the middle of a life-or-death situation was exactly what Cym needed.

He was pretty sure the voice was full of shit because compared to the calm Marshall was now radiating, Cym felt like a hot mess.

It would be nice if he could be half as resilient. Marshall had control over his magic in a way Cym never had, and from what Cym had seen, Marshall had been loved by his parents.

I wish I was more like Marshall, Cym thought.

In an instant, Cym could see out of Marshall’s eyes. Time had once again ground to a stop.

Nearly.

A monster with the head of a lizard and the body of a cat was a foot away, and Cym could see a colossal paw filled with razor sharp claws moving, ever so slightly, toward their bodies. Right behind it was a mass of rats grouped together in the shape of a rat the size of a motorcycle.

:This does not make me feel better.:

:Try to relax if you can, I’m going to need everything you can give me for this.: Marshall’s voice filled Cym’s mind, much like the mysterious voice had, but with a different flavor.

:You can hear my thoughts?:

:If I want to, yes.:

:Wonderful. Who needs privacy anyway?: Cym hoped Marshall could feel sarcasm through mind speech. :And what are you doing out there? Have you done this before?:

Cym had never felt less relaxed in his entire life, so if Marshall wanted Cym to calm down he was going to need to start coughing up answers.

:If I say yes, will you feel better?:

:Probably not.:

:Then no, I haven’t. But it should work.:

:Maybe it’s better if I can’t see.:

:Suit yourself.:

Marshall gave him a gentle mental push, and Cym was back to floating in the purple sea of their combined power.

At first, it seemed like nothing was happening, but it didn’t take long for Cym to notice the sea growing smaller. A subtle tension filled the air as the edges of their power began receding at an alarming rate. The magic went from a seemingly endless sea to a large lake.

The tension continued to build in the air, and images formed overhead. Ghostly monsters came tumbling down toward the lake, and Cym floundered about, trying to swim out of the way. He had barely had enough time to build up to a proper freak-out before the first monster—the lizard cat—dove head first into the lake, inches from Cym’s arm.

Rather than making a splash, it vanished upon contact with their magic. More demons followed close behind: the rat monster, a strange, colorful mist, a monster so disfigured that Cym couldn’t begin to guess what it was, and countless more.

One after another, they all fell, succumbing to the stillness of the lake without leaving so much as a ripple.

Cym changed his mind. These things were too gross to deal with seeing alone, and the suspense of not knowing was driving him nuts. He had to know what was happening in the outside world.

This time he didn’t even need to say anything. The desire was enough to allow him access to Marshall’s eyes. Gone were the demons he’d seen vanish into the lake. In their place was the same shimmering smoke he’d seen come from the nightmares Adelle had destroyed earlier. Everything had taken on a purplish hue, and time had gone back to normal.

Several feet away, Sekt and Hester were giving them matching murderous glares.

A demon with the face of a goat raced toward Marshall and Cym, but shortly after running past its master, it burst into smoke. Behind it floated something dark and covered with spines, and it too met the same fate.

Cym looked closer and realized they were running into a barrier created by his and Marshall’s magic.

:So that’s what the lake was doing.:

Marshall didn’t answer, but Cym felt a sensation in his head that felt like an affirmation.

Demons were rushing the barrier from all sides, but so far, nothing made it through. Cym was beginning to feel victorious when he felt a sharp pain in the center of his chest.

:What was that?!:

:A complication.: Marshall’s mental voice was a touch grim, but it still sounded far more calm than Cym felt.

Cym looked for their combined magic and saw nothing more than a glorified puddle being choked with monsters. The stillness of the pool hadn’t abated, but soon there would be nothing of it left.

:It’s time for you to pull back, Cym. Find our friends and get out of here.: Marshall’s confidence in his own authority was almost enough to get Cym to do it.

Almost.

:What will you do?:

:Hold them off until you all escape.:

:Yeah, no. That’s not happening.:

It hadn’t taken Cym long in Marshall’s company to figure out his MO—protect everyone, even at the cost of his own life—and Cym wasn’t going to put up with it. It would be no different than letting Sterling or Fourteen throw themselves away for his sake.

They’d just have to come up with another option.

Cym hesitated. What if there was no other option? Whatever kind of special snowflake Cym might be, he was completely untrained. Everything he’d done up to now had been due to extreme luck or intuition.

What if the best option was for Cym to run and save as many people as he could on the way out? As long as Cym stayed, Fourteen would never leave. If Cym couldn’t figure out a way to help Marshall quickly, he would be condemning Fourteen to death right along with him.

But abandoning Marshall to save Fourteen wasn’t something Cym could live with any more than he could deal with the idea of losing Fourteen. His mind ran in circles, and he began to feel a familiar void open inside his chest.

During Cym’s years of isolation, he’d fallen into a stupor of despair many times. It rendered him insensate to the rest of the world around him until his mind was ready to come back to reality. Right now was the worst possible time for this to happen. He would be worse than useless if he went catatonic. He had to fight it.