The connection between their three hands gave him another shot of strength, some added mental adrenaline or something, but enough for him to push back harder. He could almost feel the tosser shrinking away. Like the winner in an arm-wrestling match, Ron had gained another inch.
Working. Working. Can almost see you, can feel you.
The threads were still there, clinging to him, veiling him from where he wanted to be, but now there were small breaks of light in the darkness. Using them as his guides, Ron pushed towards them with all he had.