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Evelyn felt the amulet’s power surge through her, a torrent of raw, unfiltered energy. She could feel the darkness pressing against her mind, trying to drown her thoughts. Yet the name she had spoken acted like a beacon, a lighthouse amidst the storm.

The air quivered. The sigil on the altar flared, its light turning from an ashen gray to a blinding white. The ground beneath them cracked, spewing forth tendrils of black flame that writhed like living smoke.

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Elian hesitated, a moment of doubt creeping into his heart. But his resolve hardened; he had come too far to turn back now.

The reflection climbed out of the glass.