Joy and relief erupted inside Theo, making him dizzy. He squeezed Zenith tighter, fingers digging into the elaborate inlay of his armor. Even if he couldn't lift Zenith, he wasn't going to let go for anything in the world.
Harsh breathing from ahead. Rustling robes, fluttering feathers.
A long shadow fell over Theo. Alarm sparking through his Levia, he lifted his head.
Cyrias had gotten back to his feet. Step by step, he approached the two of them. His strides were lurching and uneven, but he never once removed hate-filled eyes from Theo's face.
"Let go," he snapped.
"Like hell I will," Theo shot back, just as icy.
Cyrias's face spasmed. He clenched his hands into fists, and that was all the warning Theo got before his Levia surged. This time it flared at his feet, blazing so bright Theo reeled back in shock.
But when he squinted his eyes, he made out distinct lines weaving from within the light, spreading outward in the shape of a circle. A diagram. And though he didn't recognize this spell, the power thrumming in his bones was unmistakable.
"I'll only say this once," Cyrias said, raising his arm. Golden light gathered in his palm, intense as a miniature sun. "Get the hell out of my way. I'm taking my defective tool back to be fixed."
Though every instinct screamed at him not to, Theo slid his hands away from Zenith. When the knight collapsed to the floor again, guilt twisted through Theo's chest, but he pushed it aside. Instead, he picked up his staff and took one step, then another, forward.
Lifting his head, he faced Cyrias directly. The searing glow of the spell danced across the seraphim's eyes like firelight, making them look crazed, diabolical.
"Not going to listen? You'll regret it."
Gripping his staff with both hands, Theo drove his heels into the floor. Summon everything he had, all his courage. If he could be even half as brave as Zenith, he would succeed.
"Theo!" Darian shouted from somewhere far away, but Theo ignored her. Right now, nothing existed except for himself and Cyrias.
"Don't take," he said, "a single step closer."
A sneer tugged at Cyrias's lips. "You barely have any Levia left. You can't do anything to stop me. So get out of the way, stupid little boy."
Theo didn't. It didn't matter if he had no Levia, or even that Cyrias was preparing to cast a spell that might very well tear him to pieces. He knew with a resolve as hard as stone that he would never let Cyrias lay a finger on Zenith again. If he did, he would have failed at everything. At being Zenith's wizard, his friend – and the one who loved him.
Sweat prickled the back of his neck, cold and bracing, but Theo never tore his eyes from Cyrias. Even if he couldn't summon his Levia, that didn't mean he was powerless. Every ounce of fury, hatred, and determination he possessed, he would hurl at the seraphim before him like the sharpest of knives.
Cyrias glared back, but his anger was weak and petty. A child who had been denied a favorite toy. What Theo had so much more real, so much more intense. He hoped Cyrias could feel it scorching into the deepest parts of his soul.
Neither spoke, neither moved. The spell still blazed beneath Cyrias, but he remained frozen in place. In the silence, Theo could hear every breath rasping in his chest, every bead of sweat sliding down his neck.
Cyrias's hand twitched. Theo moved without thinking, planting his left foot firmly ahead of him.
The golden diagram wavered. Cyrias lowered his hand a fraction. His eyes widened, some of the hate draining from them.
Theo took one more step, then another. Slow and steady, closing the distance like a predator stalking his prey. With every step, Cyrias trembled harder and harder. And when the space between them shrank to less than two yards, Cyrias inhaled sharply – and lurched back.
The diagram went up in sparks. Even without its glow, Theo saw the terror widening Cyrias's eyes as clear as day.
"Not," he said, more confident now, "a single step closer."
Dawn light stirred inside him, and it wasn't alone. A point of blue light pulsed inside the Star of Miriel. Darian's Levia swelled, the stars of her cosmos sparkling.
Cyrias's lips trembled. He stepped back and back and back, sucking in shallow breaths. Theo could almost smell the fear wafting from him like a sour wind.
With a choked cry, Cyrias tripped over his own legs and crashed to the floor. By now, he wasn't even bothering to disguise his terror. Scrabbling at the floor with his hands, he shuffled backward on his rear. His robes were a tangled mess, his wings beating frantically, and his rapid breathing had risen into hysterical whimpers.
Theo lifted his staff, and that did it for Cyrias. Clumsy and graceless, he spun around and spread out his wings. With a burst of wind, he launched himself down the hall. Feathers scattered in his wake like a drift of snow, and it wasn't long before he vanished from view altogether.
The entire time, Theo never stopped glaring after him.
Only when he could no longer feel the faintest trace of Cyrias's Levia did he dare relax. Sighing, he lowered the staff. Until now, he hadn't realized how heavy it had become. His legs trembled, but he resolutely locked his knees and forced himself to stay upright.
When he heard a shuddering breath from behind, followed by the quiet click of a footstep, Theo whirled around. He must have moved too fast, because his leg slid out from beneath him and he pitched toward the floor –
Until firm hands closed around his waist and back, breaking his fall. Pulse racing, Theo looked up into Darian's face.
Dark shadows gathered beneath her eyes, but her smile was steady. "Well. You certainly scared the shit out of him."
A breathless laugh bubbled out of Theo's throat. "It wasn't hard."
As he spoke, he realized he meant it. In the end, Cyrias was nothing at all. Without his homunculus creations or status as a seraphim to hide behind, he'd lose to even Oliver in a fight.
"So." When Darian stepped away from him, Theo blinked – only to see she was approaching Zenith. "I take it...Sir Zenith is no longer under his influence?"
She gazed down at the knight, expression troubled. Even with their contract, Theo didn't have any idea what must be running through her mind.
She had asked a question, though, so he answered. "I don't think so. You can feel it too, right? All that's left is Zenith's own Levia."
Darian nodded. "And I assume he's no longer sworn to Astraeon, either."
"What does it mean," Theo found himself asking, "for him to be sworn to a liege? It's different from a wizard-familiar contract, right?"
"That's right. The liege infuses their Levia into his being. It becomes...an inextricable part. It's what gives him his power. Or...gave, in this case? I don't really know anymore...."
She trailed off, huffing a faint laugh. Then she drew in a deep breath and sank to her knees by Zenith's side. When she tugged on his arm, Theo realized what she must be doing.
"We can contemplate this later," she said, brisk and businesslike again. "Right now, we have to get out of here. Theo?"
"Right." As quick as he could, Theo folded up his staff and tucked it back into his holster. Then he knelt beside Darian and pulled Zenith's other arm up off the floor.
Its sheer weight drove the breath from his lungs. Even with Darian's help, he couldn't begin to imagine how they could possibly haul Zenith around – but it wasn't like they had any other choice.
Both Cyrias and Astraeon were gone. Now was the best time to make their escape.