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Water answers my call, not as a gentle stream but as a torrent of raw potential. It crystallizes into a blade of ice so cold it shines blue-white in the arena’s sunlight. This weapon is an extension of my arm, the manifestation of my will. Something I learned from Lark and her wings of fire.

Filling the area between me and the opening where the gods’ minions are charging with lava mist is as simple as thinking. Fire, water, air, and earth meld together. The watery air hides the earth and fire, which explode as soon as they’re touched.

Valk’s horned war horses go down first. Their shrill shrieks vibrate through my skull in a direct assault on my nervous system. My vision blurs, and I stagger back a step, fighting to maintain focus.

Obsidian cave cats, Nyc’s favored beasts, attempt to race along the earthen walls. Until I shroud them in slick ice to hold them captive. As soon as their claws start to sink in, they’re blasted away. The sylphs, Gallera’s nearly invisible spirits of air, attempt to get close, but the overwhelming heat of Lark’s dome keeps them back.

None of this stops the gods.

Valk charges forward, double-headed war axe held high. The detonating mist doesn’t even slow her down. Nor do the explosions that destroy her ravens and Hallr’s golems.

She’s on me.

I meet her charge, ducking under the initial strike and bringing my ice-blade up in a sweeping arc. The edge, honed to molecular perfection by my enhanced magic, slices through the handle of her weapon.

The axe head spins away, eliciting a string of curses from Agnar.

The Goddess of War doesn’t hesitate. Her beheaded axe handle morphs into a halberd over my shoulder. She yanks the weapon back.

Crazy bitch plans to skewer me.

There’s no time to dodge.

Ice forms in a smooth curve along my shoulder and neck. The god’s weapon slips along it. Caught off guard when her strike doesn’t penetrate, Valk stumbles.

I take that moment to blast her with a cyclone of warm, wet air.

She’s flung backward.

Right into one of the grasping tentacles of Rivlan’s kraken, who crawled out of the ocean.

Hook filled sucker cups latch onto Valk. A second tentacle wraps around its prey.

The goddess is lifted away—screaming as those hooks carve holes into her flesh—and dragged into the water.

Hallr lunges forward next. He almost comes across as an old, ancient human, save for the granite legs that propel him through the mist.

I raise my sword, ready to take on his rocky skin.

But Hallr doesn’t come close enough to engage. Instead, he reaches down, then throws something at me.

Stones?

No. As the rocky projectiles close in, they expand.

Rock golems.

This low, they’re not affected by Lark’s fire dome.

But, thanks to the merge, Lark isn’t the only one who can use her flames. Just as I would have done with water, I create a wall of fire. It’s not as potent or as hot as Lark’s.

But it’s close enough.

Though these creatures don’t seem to care about the fire. They fly right through the wall I’ve summoned, skin glowing red as their stone bodies absorb the heat.

No doubt Hallr planned that.

Rearing back, I conjure up another wall.