The Iron Spire gives way in great iron teeth, and Kamakulzar hangs on through the pain, riding the wild drop with a fierce, delighted grin.
The Hooded Figure
No, not the curse. The utility weave, now, now.
The Second Cloaked Figure
Then do it fast. The lattice is failing.
The Third Cloaked Figure
I have it, a simpler binding, just hold him-
The spell snaps sideways. Frost blows back across the rim, the caster reels hard, and the main caster goes limp in the collapse, stunned out cold by the backlash.
Zhurrem surges in low, jaws clamping onto the fallen caster's robes and shoulder. He hauls the body clear as the summit tears loose behind them, his wings beating them away from the falling mass.
The broken spire slams down into rubble and marsh dust, narrowly swallowing the two remaining figures in the crash. The necrotic anchor is smashed at last, and the broken lattice stops answering the entity below.
Above the ruin, Zhurrem climbs hard with the unconscious caster in his grip, while Kamakulzar clings to his back and feels the ache in his wound throb with the thrill of survival. Below, the shattered summit lies smoking and still.