24
Not surprisingly, I got little sleep. The concrete closet was cold and damp, the air heavy and stagnant.
Without windows, the only light came from a single bulb that buzzed incessantly, slicing through the silence.
The cot was thin and uneven, the pillow flatter than a pancake, and the threadbare blanket barely covered half of me.
On top of that, I couldn’t stop thinking about what Mandy had said.
Every villain had their origin story, every so-called monster a reason to become what they were.
And, while I didn’t agree with the Syndicate’s methods, the more I thought about it, the more I realized why they had such an interest in me.
How many people had I helped who were misunderstood, pushed, or broken by circumstances beyond their control?
The people here may not have been evil, they were desperate to be accepted and live normal lives without ridicule.
Could I blame them for believing they were doing the right thing?
I shook the thought away. I always tried to see the best in people, but I couldn’t let sympathy cloud my judgment.
This was the organization that had burned down Mr. Carson’s pizza joint just to make a point.
They’d kidnapped my best friend to use as leverage against me.
They’d tortured Alex and Jordan under the guise of “studying” their magic.
And while I knew they wanted to study my magic, too, I knew it wasn’t to save the world.
Their intentions might have sounded noble, but their actions were anything but.
Mandy had taken my dirty clothes last night, leaving me with what looked like someone’s workout clothes to sleep in. She had stopped by earlier this morning to drop off a bowl of goopy oatmeal and my freshly laundered jeans and t-shirt.
I was getting changed when a resounding knock on the metal door startled me. This visitor certainly wasn’t her. It was too heavy, too urgent.
“I’m coming in.” The male voice wasn’t angry, but it carried an edge of urgency that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
I groaned, pushing myself off the lumpy cot. “Give me a minute.”
Ignoring my response, the lock clicked and the door swung open. I had just buttoned my jeans when the fairy’s gaze slid over me like a scanner, weighing my reactions, my posture, my magic.
“Alistair,” I said with little enthusiasm. “I should have guessed you’d show up eventually.”
The last time I had seen the fairy was when he ripped Lukas away from me. A crushing pain clenched my heart when I thought about it.
Alistair was as calm now as he was back then. Every detail of his appearance spoke of careful precision. The professional look belied the quiet strength in his frame and the authority in his measured movements.
“Come. We have work to do.”
I barely had my second shoe on before Alistair dragged me out of the closet and into the hallway.
Silver chains shimmered faintly around my wrists like handcuffs, binding them to the front of my body, but the weight of the chains felt like concrete blocks holding me down.
They subdued my magic, but I could still feel it lingering just beneath the surface.
“Precaution,” Alistair said smoothly, adjusting the cuff of his slate-blue dress shirt. His dark slacks were pressed, shoes polished like he was heading to a gala instead of hauling me to my funeral. “Your magic … I don’t trust it. We can’t risk a disturbance.”
“Disturbance,” I muttered. “Is that what we’re calling me now?”
He didn’t answer.
The facility felt different in daylight.
The concrete floors held a deep chill, like they’d never fully thawed.
The air carried a sharp bite of salt and metal, even this far inside.
Pipes lined the ceiling overhead, thick and industrial, some wrapped in insulation, others exposed and sweating condensation.
Alistair, sensing my curiosity, began explaining. “We’re off the coast of Boston. This is an old decommissioned maritime research facility. Long ago, they used to conduct pressure studies here.”
Did that mean Alistair was planning to press my magic to the limit, to see how much it could withstand before I exploded?
The corridor ended at a massive steel door. It was rounded, reinforced, and riveted, like the hatch of a submersible. Alistair knocked once. “We’re coming in.”
The locks disengaged with a heavy groan. The door swung open to reveal a cavernous chamber that swallowed sound.
“This is … a pressure chamber?” I asked, taking in the enormous space.
Alistair guided me inside. “Originally used for submersible testing. Hulls, materials, instruments. Extreme depths. It’s a closed system. Perfect for experimenting with magic.”
The chamber looked more like the inside of a submarine than a laboratory.
Cold air rolled in like a wave, carrying the metallic tang of salt and lingering presence of magic.
The rubber soles of my sneakers squeaked against the polished concrete that stretched farther than I could see, supported by steel beams and cross braces that arched high overhead.
Catwalks and hoists, once used to lift submersibles, hung frozen above, their chains dripping warm mist that hissed violently as it met the cold, subzero-simulated floor, making the hangar feel almost alive.
But at the center of it all … my breath caught.
A phantom knelt inside a metallic silver array, chains of light lancing sparks across its flickering form.
He wavered between translucent and semi-solid flesh, jaw clenched, teeth gritted, no energy left to even scream.
His khakis were torn, his shirt saturated in sweat and dirt.
Every pulse of energy made his form shimmer violently, as though the magic itself were testing the limits of his existence.
His hollow eyes absorbed the overhead lights, and even through the flicker I could see the strain in his posture …
the tremor of shoulders, the subtle quiver of hands against the unyielding restraints.
“Lukas!” My instincts had me lunging forward, screaming at me to help this tortured phantom. “What the fuck are you doing to him?”
But my own chains bit into my wrists and elbows, limiting every movement. I could barely reach, barely move. The array beneath the phantom pulsed with a cruel rhythm that made my chest tighten.
“Unless you want to turn into a charred, juicy slab of meat, I suggest you back away. You can’t do anything to help him right now.
Just watch and learn.” Mandy sat a few meters away, nodding to the floor where black shadows stretched unnaturally from the phantom’s body.
They coalesced into jagged constructs that lashed at the edges of the array, but they didn’t escape.
“Increasing pulse interval by 0.2 seconds. We need to see when the phasing stabilizes under external control.” Beside her, a man crouched near the phantom’s side.
He was lean and precise, wearing a dark lab coat that had seen better days, sleeves rolled to his elbows, hair slicked back, and sharp blue eyes constantly scanning monitors and the subject.
Tiny probes glowed where they touched the phantom’s chains and flesh, measuring energy output, strain, shadow density, and phase stability.
Mandy extended her hand toward Lukas. The invisible threads of her mind control wrapped around her, bending the magic to her will. Every twitch, every convulsion, every flare of shadow was responding to her.
“Stop,” I pleaded, a pain in my chest throbbing. “Let him go. You’re hurting him.”
Mandy chuckled. “Does that ever work? Do people really just suddenly decide to stop what they’re doing to let someone go?”
Alistair strolled up beside me and scoffed. “Theo, these are phantoms we’re talking about. They’re already dead.”
“You keep saying that,” I shot back. “But it’s not true. The living part of them still feels pain. You can’t treat them like crumpled trash.”
Alistair humphed. “Perhaps normal phantoms are part living, but something happened to them when passing through the fractured veil. They’re not quite … whole. Their bodies might be solid flesh, but they aren’t living like Caspian was.”
I bristled at the mention of Caspian’s name, staring at Alistar with a confused expression. Did they even know what they were messing with? That this magic didn’t want to be controlled?
“When you returned the phantoms back to the underworld, your friend here unfortunately didn’t make the trip. He was being experimented on at the time, trapped inside his own barrier.” Alistair continued. “Notice anything different about him?”
I knelt down just outside the array, looking closely at Lukas. Sure enough, there was malice in those once gentle eyes. He gritted his teeth, snarling at me like a rabid dog. He no longer recognized me.
An ache throbbed in my chest. The phantoms I had fought definitely weren’t normal, but beneath the crazed magic a part of their old selves still lingered. I could feel the connection between them, between our shared magic. I knew some semblance of him was still there.
“The longer he stayed in this realm, the more the magic inside him became corrupted. Look at him now. He can’t even speak. But by studying this corrupted magic, we can learn more about it. Help those who fall victim to the same circumstances.”
The array around Lukas pulsed with an intensity that made the air hum and my veins ache. Sparks of energy leapt from the etched silver lines into the chains, and every time they did, his figure shimmered violently.
“He would have never become this in the first place if you let him return.” I reached out, my hands passing through the array.
“Theo, don’t—” But before Mandy could do anything about it, my bound hands were touching Lukas’ face.
I could see the exhaustion etched in his wary eyes, the way his shoulders trembled beneath invisible weight, the faint quiver of his jaw, but still he endured.
Faintly, his magic reacted to mine. A tug at the edges of my awareness.
Recognition. Connection. My chains pulsed in response, buzzing against my wrists.
Alistair held out his hand to stop Mandy from interfering. The chains instantly dissolved from my wrists and my magic flowed back into me.
Lukas hadn’t asked for this, for this magic to manifest out of control.
He’d never agreed to being poked and prodded at, having his magic manipulated …
no, the Syndicate wasn’t helping one bit, they were making things much worse.
I could feel Lukas’ magic reaching out to mine, begging and pleading for me to stop this madness.
“It’s okay.” I gently brushed a tear away from his cheek. “I can send you home. Isn’t that what you want?”
Lukas nodded.
The technician turned to face his desk of monitors. “Unbelievable. Look at this! I haven’t touched the amplification array, but the intensity is spiking, and it’s … stabilizing! How is he doing this? I need to document this!”
Ignoring the technician, I gently severed the ties of Mandy’s manipulative hold on Lukas. The mind-controller sensed it the moment it happened, stepping back as she stared in awe at her hand where the invisible thread had been cut.
“You’re free now. Go home.”
A warm, comforting magic wrapped around us as it calmed his chaotic magic.
A sharp pain lanced behind my eyes as Mandy’s mind control magic tried to latch onto me in warning, but it was too late.
The phantom before me opened his mouth but couldn’t find the words to say anything.
Instead, his fading smile was all the thanks I needed as he dissolved before me and vanished.
There was a moment of silence as everyone stood in shock, staring at the miracle I had just performed.
Then a hand came down on my shoulder, gripping it so tightly and pushing me down that I couldn’t get up from my crouched position.
I looked up to see Alistair staring down at me with a maniacal grin on his face.
“Theo, my dear friend, Leon told me there was something strange that happened between you and Caspian, but I never expected this. Why didn’t you ever tell me you had his magic?”