The demon named Balthaz eyed them with a faint tilt of the head, as if picking apart a puzzle.
"You…" His clawed finger singled out Orlin. "You belong to this realm, yet… you don't. You have no original life force. Necromancy?"
"Of sorts," Orlin replied, his tone dry. "More curse than craft, but it functions the same."
Balthaz's lips curved into a smile that looked carved with a knife.
"Well then… I'll be taking all of you. My lord will want to see what kind of refuse washes up in his territory."
With a lazy flick of his wrist, shimmering spheres, like oil-slick bubbles, bloomed in the air, snapping into place around each of them. The air inside was thick, sticky, and constricting.
Kai turned his head toward Seyren. The elf's eyes were wide with panic.
"I can use magic now, right?"
Seyren's face twisted. "Of course!"
"Thought so!"
Kai clenched his fist, and spears of shadow shot outward in all directions. They shredded through his prison in a spray of dark shards.
