Curse Broken (Cursed Descent (MistHallow Academy) #3)

36. Matilda

36

MATILDA

Vex demonstrates advanced shielding techniques in Advanced Dark Magick when I feel a subtle shift in the magickal current running through MistHallow. Nothing dramatic, just a momentary hesitation, like a record skipping a beat before continuing.

“Now, who would like to demonstrate a cascading shield matrix?” Vex asks, scanning the classroom. His eyes land on me. “Mrs Blackwell, perhaps? I understand you have some experience with innovative shield construction.”

Trying to hide my smirk, I move to the front of the class, trying to focus on the task at hand rather than the magickal anomaly. Drawing on my innate Druid abilities, enhanced by the Praxian force, I craft layers of protection. The first is a standard physical barrier, shimmering with opalescent light. The second blocks magickal attacks, pulsing with a deeper energy. The third—my own innovation—is designed to absorb and redirect hostile magick.

“Excellent foundation,” Vex comments. “Now, the cascade element, if you please.”

I connect the three shields with threads of power, setting them to trigger sequentially if one fails. It’s complex magick, something I one hundred per cent couldn’t have managed a few weeks ago, but now it feels almost intuitive.

“Perfect execution,” Vex says approvingly. “Note the efficiency of energy distribution, class. Mrs Blackwell has created a system that requires minimal power maintenance while maximising protection.”

As I return to my seat, another ripple passes through the magickal current, stronger this time. My shields flicker briefly, responding to the disturbance. Vex notices it, too, and frowns at me.

The time ticks away as Professor Vex teaches the lecture, and my mind wanders to fucking him on his desk or up against the blackboard.

Before I know it, Vex dismisses the class, and I hang back, waiting until everyone leaves. He grabs my hand with a wicked smile, and we head straight for the library and the entrance to the underground chambers.

Luc and Draven are already waiting.

“Something’s definitely off,” Luc says when I crouch to push the button. “I can feel it in my flames—they’re jumping more than usual. Advanced Fire Magick was a blast. Literally.”

“Same with me. Advanced Death Magick might’ve left some of the younger students in a state of shock when I accidentally raised a malevolent spirit. I don’t even know where the fuck it came from.”

I stare at him, eyes wide. “Did you put it back?”

“Obviously. The Professor was ready to call for my expulsion. Somehow, I think assisting in that class went out the window.”

“This is not good.” I push the button, and we are surprised by the ornate staircase that leads us down to the chambers.

We descend quickly in case it decides to change its mind and fuck with us, so we rush down and we hit the bottom in record time.

The tunnels guide us directly to the ritual chamber, responding to our urgency. When we arrive, I immediately see what Draven meant. The earth magick stone vibrates slightly out of sync with the others, its light brightening every fourth cycle.

I approach the circle, careful not to cross the boundary. “The connection to the foundation stone seems intact. I don’t sense any weakness there.”

“Then what’s causing the fluctuation?” Luc asks, circling the stones from the other side.

I close my eyes, reaching out with my Praxian senses. The magickal network I created spreads out before my mind’s eye like a vast, intricate web. The foundation stone pulses steadily in Hell, its power flowing through established channels to the classification stones. But something doesn’t feel right—there’s a subtle interference pattern, like ripples disturbing what should be a smooth current .

“It’s not coming from the stones themselves,” I say slowly, opening my eyes. “It’s something external, affecting how earth magick flows through the network.”

“Could it be natural?” Draven asks. “Some kind of seasonal or cyclical change in earth energies?”

I shake my head. “I don’t think so. The system is designed to accommodate natural fluctuations. This feels deliberate.”

Vex gives me a grave stare. “Do you think someone is tampering with it?”

“Not directly. The security measures would prevent that. But possibly interfering with the flow of earth magick elsewhere in a way that’s creating feedback in our system.”

“So there’s nothing we can do?” Draven asks.

“Not really. I don’t know what to do. Everything is functioning as normal so far as the infrastructure goes. Maybe we had better have a word with Blackthorn.”

“He’s tied up in academy meetings, right now,” Vex says. “It will have to wait. I don’t feel this counts as life or death.”

Yet . I can’t help the thought, but seeing as there isn’t anything intrinsically wrong, what else can we do but wait for him?

“Maybe we’re overthinking this,” I suggest after a few minutes of us staring at the stones. “Blackthorn did say adjustments would continue for weeks.”

“It’s possible,” Vex concedes, though he doesn’t sound convinced. “But after what we went through with Anu and Heaven, I’m not inclined to dismiss anything unusual.”

“Let’s observe for a while, see if anything changes.”

The guys agree, so we settle on the floor near the circle, close enough to observe but not interfere.

Nothing notable happens. The pattern remains consistent—three normal pulses followed by one brighter flash from the earth stone. Vex documents the timing meticulously in his notebook so we can search for any underlying rhythm or significance.

My eyes start to get heavy, but then something changes.

“Look,” Vex says, standing up and moving closer. We follow him and stare at where he’s pointing. The earth stone’s anomalous flash synchronises with a much subtler flicker in the water stone. “They’re alternating now—earth flashes on the fourth cycle, water on the eighth, earth on the twelfth, and so on.”

“That’s new,” I murmur.

“Look,” Draven points. “The fire stone is joining in.”

The stone now emits a brighter glow every fifth cycle, creating an intricate, three-part rhythm with the earth and water stones.

“It’s like a conversation,” Vex observes, moving closer to study the pattern. “Or a code.”

“But who’s speaking? And what are they saying?” I wonder aloud.

Before anyone can answer, the pattern abruptly shifts. All the stones flash simultaneously, their light so intense we have to shield our eyes. When the brightness fades, the classification stones return to perfect synchronisation, pulsing steadily as if nothing had happened.

“What the hell was that?” Luc demands.

“I don’t know,” Vex admits, which is rare for him. “But I don’t think it was a natural correction.”

Extending my senses toward the stones, the magickal network feels different. Not damaged, exactly, but altered, as if something has left its fingerprints on the fabric of our creation.

“This isn’t just a fluctuation anymore,” Vex says grimly. “Something is actively interfering with our system.”

“We need Blackthorn,” Draven insists. “This qualifies as an emergency now.”

I nod in agreement, but before we can move, the tremor intensifies. The chamber walls crack, ancient stone groaning under magickal pressure. The classification stones rise from their positions, spinning faster and faster in a chaotic dance.

Vex shouts over the mounting roar. “If they break formation completely, the whole network could collapse!”

I reach for the Praxian force, channelling it toward the stones in a desperate attempt to stop them from spinning off in all directions. The others join me, adding their power to mine. Through our bonds, our powers merge and amplify, creating a containment field around the wildly gyrating stones.

For several heart-stopping moments, it seems insufficient. The stones continue their frenzied movement, magickal energy crackling between them like lightning. Then, gradually, they slow down, their orbit steadying as our combined power exerts control.

“Keep going,” I encourage through gritted teeth, sweat beading on my forehead from the effort. “We almost have it.”

With a final surge of power, we force the stones back into their original positions. They settle with reluctance, still vibrating with excess energy, but no longer threatening to break free. The tremor subsides, leaving the chamber in eerie silence.

“What,” Luc pants, hands on his knees, “the actual fuck was that?”

None of us have an answer. We stand in stunned silence, staring at the classification stones now glowing with deceptive serenity in their circle.

“We need to set up permanent monitoring,” Vex says finally. “And alert Blackthorn immediately.”

“I’ll contact Mom,” Luc adds. “She needs to check the Hell cube for any signs of tampering.”

As we leave the chamber, I can’t shake the feeling we’ve just witnessed the opening moves of a game we don’t understand yet. None of it feels random or natural.

Something is testing our creation, probing for weaknesses, perhaps even communicating through the system we built to save magick. Whatever it is, I suspect it’s been watching us for longer than we know.

Just before we reach the entrance to the chamber, I glance back at the classification stones. For an instant— so briefly I might have imagined it—I see a shadow sliding across their surfaces like oil on water.

Then it’s gone, leaving me with nothing but questions and a deep, unsettling certainty that our work isn’t done.

Not even close.