My pulse spiked, and I clutched my head in both hands, breathing hard.

  I looked around—no trace of the murderer.

  What should I do?

  Fiona’s high priestess had already used her resurrection spell. She’d still be on cooldown for at least a couple of days. That meant only Ju could save our fake Ju—but how could I possibly find her in the next few minutes? And bring her back here in time? The resurrection window was maddeningly short.

  “Everything okay up there?” the alchemist called from below.

  I ignored him. Think, Lores. Think!

  I knew the resurrection spell. But I didn’t have the necessary white mana... unless I accessed Flo’s mana pool. That was a dangerous idea. I’d never successfully resurrected anyone using her mana. The only time I’d cast the spell, I used my mana and I made a zombie.

  Did that mean the spell could work with her mana? Or would I just bring Yolanda back as something undead?

  I rubbed my hands together, indecisive and desperate. Should I try to find Ju? Or risk the resurrection myself?

  But if I attempted it—and the murderer was still nearby—he could easily finish us both off. Me, dazed and drained by white mana. Yolanda, even weaker than before, fresh from death.

  I scanned the area once more, searching for any sign of the murderer. Still nothing.

  With no better option and time slipping away, I decided to attempt the resurrection. It felt like Yolanda’s only real chance.

  With the decision made, my heartbeat began to steady and I focused on the spell. First, I drew in a long breath and tried to purge my body of any lingering traces of dark magic—anything that might taint the casting and turn her into a zombie instead of bringing her back. Then I closed my eyes and visualized the flow of white mana, calling it toward me.

  I reached for Flo’s power, felt her magic surge through me—bright, strange, unyielding. I pushed everything else aside and looked at Yolanda not with my eyes, but with magic alone, letting the white light flow through me and into her, to cleanse and renew.

  My head tipped back. My body arched as the spell took hold, arms stretched wide.

  A pillar of radiant light erupted over Yolanda’s body, lifting her into the air. For a few heartbeats, she floated, suspended in that brilliance. Then, a slow-motion explosion of white light burst outward, flooding the cavern with illumination for several long seconds.

  And then—stillness.

  I gasped for air, barely able to stay upright. My legs trembled beneath me. I thought I saw Yolanda move… but every line in my vision bent and wavered like a heat haze. I couldn’t tell if it had worked.

  I was still trying to steady myself when I caught movement out of the corner of my eye.

  It was as if one of the exhibits had come to life and was now charging straight at me. Why hadn’t my magic sensed him?

  He wasn’t alive. That much was clear. But he wasn’t a zombie either—I would have seen the telltale traces of black magic that marked the undead, like ghouls or reanimated corpses. He wasn’t a golem. And yet... he moved.

  Fast.

  Too fast.

  As I tried to turn, my feet tangled beneath me and I fell—spinning sideways. The motion saved my life. A clawed hand swept through the air exactly where my neck had been an instant earlier.

  Damn. A vampire. And not a fledgling—a high-level one.

  My sudden lurch had other consequences. My stomach turned from the strain—the adrenaline, the leftover white mana wreaking havoc through my veins—and I barely kept from collapsing outright. I grabbed at something to steady myself and felt something cold under my palm.

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  His shoulder.

  I tried to pull myself up, off-balance, just as his hand swiped again—right through the space I’d been trying to move into. My movement faltered, and I spun the opposite way, thrown off balance.

  His claws slashed, tearing through the fabric of my shirt and grazing the skin above my left shoulder. But as he caught the cloth, the motion yanked me upright.

  And that was the last my stomach could take.

  The stress, the lurching, the disruption of my mana flow—it all erupted at once. I vomited violently, the stream sputtering from me like water from a broken hydrant.

  He hissed, taking the hit full on—but instead of striking at me again, he turned and bolted after Yolanda, who was sprinting toward the shop's exit. For some twisted reason, she seemed to be his priority target.

  He was fast—in just two strides, he was already outside, hot on her heels.

  I focused, trying to hurl a fireball—but I was far too slow. By the time the spell left my fingers, he was already gone.

  Then—suddenly—Yolanda reappeared beside me. She must’ve used her emergency teleport to return to her master’s side.

  The spell had only bought her a few seconds, but it was enough.

  A moment later, the vampire stormed back into the shop, steaming, his skin blistered from exposure to the twin suns. He’d probably thought he could kill her quickly and retreat before the sunlight became a problem.

  But his timing was off. He re-entered just as my fireball was leaving the room—and it slammed directly into his face. There was a roar of flame, and for a second, the vampire was completely engulfed.

  My vision was warped and shifting, every shape bending at the edges—but even in that distorted haze, I could see he wasn’t finished. The vampire darted toward Yolanda, who was fleeing behind the next row of exhibits.

  The white magic still coursing through my veins made me feel more than drunk—it made the world tilt and blur around me. I tried to cast another fireball, but my aim was off. The blast hit a table instead.

  It wasn’t useless, though. The explosion hurled Yolanda sideways, causing the vampire’s strike to miss her by inches. At the same time, it flung a spray of glass and jars from the surrounding shelves, sending the chemist’s bizarre collection raining down on the creature.

  Something in those shattered containers must have been caustic. The vampire let out a wretched, inhuman cry as some of the spilled fluids hit him.

  Snarling, he turned and lunged at me. His claws slashed across my chest—just as I shifted into shadow.

  He swung at the air, frustrated, then pivoted back toward Yolanda, who was scrambling on all fours to get away.

  She was too slow.

  He raised his claws to finish her—but before they could fall, I reacted without thinking.

  I absorbed her into my inventory.

  Panic surged through me the moment I realized what I’d done. I’d stashed Yolanda in my inventory like an object. Heart racing, I dropped her back out—releasing her into a different corner of the room.

  The vampire, somehow, still seemed to track my presence—even in my shadow form. He charged after me, smashing through another line of exhibits in his path.

  I rematerialized to cast another spell—just as a giant cauldron came crashing down on his head.

  Behind him, the blond alchemist was swearing loudly.

  The runes etched into the cauldron flared all at once. The vampire let out a furious hiss as bubbling liquid spilled out in every direction—boiling, burning. Or maybe that was the sound of the fluid itself; I couldn’t tell anymore.

  That’s when it hit me—finally—bright idea, Lores! I transformed into a lynx.

  And just as the vampire shoved the cauldron away, I was already lunging—fangs bared—ready to bite.

  Have you ever put stinking, rotten fish in your mouth?

  That’s how the vampire tasted.

  The flavor—or stench—seemed to bypass my tongue entirely and go straight to my brain. Every hair on my back stood up. Vampires, I decided, are absolutely not edible. And yet, I forced myself to bite down.

  The creature began to burn as it died, its body consumed by fire and alchemy—but the taste was too much for my lynx form. My instincts rejected it completely.

  I shifted back into my human body, gagging.

  And then the drunken swirl of white mana and the strain of combat overwhelmed me. The world tilted, blurred—and I blacked out.