A voice Jared had not heard in months boomed inside his mind, low as thunder rolling beneath the sea. “Go no farther…”

The warning belonged to Vermilion Demon Lord, echoing through Jared’s consciousness field with a force that made his heart jolt against his ribs.

Jared halted as though an unseen chain had snapped taut around his chest. He pivoted toward Vermilion Demon Lord. “Mr. Vermilion… Mr. Vermilion?”

The name left his throat in a pleading rasp, half-hope, half-command. Only silence answered. It felt as if Vermilion Demon Lord had melted out of existence again, leaving the air unnaturally still. Flaxseed skidded in beside him, the bells on his hemp robe jangling in alarm. “Jared, what’s the matter?”

His eyes, always merry, were pinched with concern. Jared didn’t speak. A single line creased his brow, the same look a strategist would wear when a carefully drawn map suddenly grew blank.

Corin’s sword hovered at his side as be slowed. “Jared, what is it?”

The older man’s tone held more steel than worry.