I’m working my way through the Amplifier books today, making sure all the ‘marketing’ bits are in place as I ready for the upcoming push through to the release of book four (preorder TBA). And I happened upon this scene (and the scene right before), and – once again – blubbered through it. Ugh. So much heartache on the Five’s path to freedom of choice.

We were about three-quarters of the way along the corridor when Flynn unleashed his death curse in the northeast stairwell.

By succumbing to death.

Magic slammed against Fish’s nullifying field. It actually shoved him forward into Knox and Bee.

The concrete floor rumbled under our feet. Anyone in the path of the spell, whatever team was blocking the northeast stairwell and whoever had hit Flynn with the spell that had killed him, wouldn’t be left standing. In fact, based on the light display pulsing across Fish’s shield, I doubted whether the stairwell would even be passable.

A sorcerer of Flynn’s caliber held a lot of magic in his blood, in his life force. Enough to wipe out many enemies.

But then, if you were willing to die to do so, you could wreak a lot of vengeance.

Waiting for the residual to fade before moving, we all turned to look at Zans.

She was standing a couple of steps ahead, head bowed, hands clenched at her sides.

Flynn’s magic faded.

Zans glanced back down the corridor, snarling and laughing at the same time. “I bet that stung them. And I haven’t even gotten started yet.” She pinned her dark gaze to me. “Are you with me, Socks?”

She didn’t have to ask. Truthfully, she really shouldn’t have asked, because there was wild magic embedded in vows — when the words were wielded by those such as us.

“To the end,” I said.

“To the end.” Knox, Bee, and Fish echoed the words behind me.

Magic shifted around us, then settled. We were already tied. By birth, by blood, and by magic. Those bonds might have been forced upon us, but we had no one else. No reason not to die for each other.

– The Amplifier Protocol (Amplifier 0)

A cluster of sorcerers had fortified the doors to the stairwell, and likely the entire staircase leading down to the fourth level. Evidentially I hadn’t fooled anyone as to my objective.

A murder of sorcerers. Not a cluster. Bee’s presence brushed through my mind. She laughed, quietly deadly.

“Helpful,” I muttered, risking a glance down the long, straight hall. Looking for possible egresses, or anything I could use for shelter. There were none, which I’d already known But double checking never hurt.

A red laser sight bloomed on the wall above my head. I was crouched — the gun-toting extraction team were aiming for where my head should be. I retreated a couple steps, running the floor plan in my head. I could backtrack. But, since they knew where I was going, eliminating the other four while they were trapped in their rooms was most likely being discussed.

A botched attempt on my life was one thing. Perhaps the heart attack Macy had planned to induce was supposed to look like a complication from my wounds. But murdering the others without a traceable kill order was going to be difficult to justify.

Still, time was of the essence.

– The Amplifier Protocol, Amplifier 0, second draft