Chapter 28
The dead are waiting for me. I feel them before we reach the Hall of Passing.
Not as ghosts, not as cold air or whispers or the faint pressure Veil magic leaves behind when a spirit refuses to cross.
I feel them inside the academy. Hundreds of quiet points beneath the stone, each one carrying the memory of a heartbeat that no longer exists.
They stand beyond the walls. Beneath the floors.
Inside the old bones of Arcana. Waiting.
Valerius still limps beside me but he hides it well.
His shoulders remain straight. His expression remains hard.
Shadowflame curls around his legs and back, supporting injuries he refuses to acknowledge.
Professor Thorne's hurried bandages are already darkening across his chest where the Shadowbound hunter nearly tore the sovereign mark from him.
Every few steps, the bond carries a pulse of pain.
He walls it away immediately but I already noticed it and catalogue it.
I don't ask whether he is all right. The old Valentina would have, the girl behind the locked door might be screaming the question but I can't hear her and I don't care that his plan harmed him.
"You're staring," Valerius says.
"I'm assessing your ability to continue." I say.
His mouth tightens. "How romantic."
"Your breathing is uneven. You have at least two broken ribs. The wound over your sovereign mark is still leaking magical energy—"
He cuts me off. "I'll survive."
"Survival is not the same as effectiveness." I remind him.
He looks at me. Even exhausted, even bleeding, his eyes hold the same impossible stubbornness. "You folded space when they tried to take me."
"That's unrelated." I say.
"No, it isn't." Valerius insists.
I continue walking. His hand closes around mine. The bond warms with his touch, but the warmth doesn't reach the locked place. It only gives me information. His pulse. His fatigue. His continued hope. He still believes I will return. That's either devotion or delusion. Possibly both.
The eastern stairwell descends farther than it should.
Arcana's lower levels weren't designed according to ordinary space.
Corridors shift around old wards. Staircases lengthen when something beneath the academy wants to remain hidden.
Today, the stone steps curl downward in a spiral that seems to have no end.
Blue lanterns burn along the walls. Each one extinguishes as I pass. Valerius notices. "So much for subtle."
"I'm not controlling them." I inform him.
"That's not comforting." He looks at every single one that extinguishes.
"The flames are reacting to the sovereign heart." I add.
"Still not comforting." He continues.
Behind us, the academy shudders. A distant explosion rolls through the floors. Remnants moving through the foundations. Thorne's forces will hold them temporarily. Temporarily is enough for now.. The Ancient Masters want the Hall of Passing silenced.
Therefore, whatever the dead know is strategically important. That's why I'm here. Not for Seren. Not for my father.
Valerius's grip tightens. He heard the shape of the thought. "You don't have to keep doing that," he says.
"Doing what?" I ask.
"Pretending this means nothing." He squeezes my hand lightly.
"I'm not pretending." I narrow my eyes in confusion.
Pain moves through the bond. My sovereign mark stirs, drawing from it. Valerius raises another wall. The cold strength in my veins diminishes. I look at him. He meets my gaze without apology.
"You are deliberately restricting me again and you are compromising our survival." I say.
"I'm preserving yours." He says softly.
"My survival is not currently threatened." I remind him.
His voice lowers. "Yes, it is."
I study him. He isn't referring to Remnants. Before I can respond, a voice moves through the staircase.
"Valentina." My father. The sound comes from everywhere at once.
Valerius goes still beside me. His hand remains locked around mine. "Alaric?" he calls. No answer.
Darkness climbs the stairwell. Ahead, a pale green light appears.
The Hall of Passing. We descend the final steps.
The doors are open. They should never be open.
The Hall of Passing is one of Arcana's most protected sacred chambers.
Veil students enter only under supervision.
Families use it to say final goodbyes when magical deaths prevent spirits from crossing peacefully.
Its doors are carved from white wood grown around the bones of the academy's first Veil master.
Tonight, the doors lean inward. Broken. Black handprints mark the pale wood. Remnants have been here already. Valerius's Shadowflame rises. I lift my free hand. Cold Starfire gathers around my fingers. Together, we enter.
The Hall of Passing is larger than the grand dining hall.
White pillars rise toward a ceiling painted with constellations that no longer exist.
Hundreds of silver candles float in the air, each flame representing a spirit waiting to cross.
A dark river runs through the center of the room, silent and perfectly still, disappearing beneath an archway carved with Veil symbols.
The Crossing River.
Tonight, every candle burns black and the dead are standing.
Hundreds of them fill the hall. Students.
Council guards. Professors. Men and women in clothing from different centuries.
Some wear academy uniforms so old the branch colours are faded beyond recognition.
Some carry wounds that still glow with the magic that killed them.
Some look almost alive. None speak. None move.
Their pale faces are turned toward the entrance.
Toward me.
Luc stands at the edge of the river. His black Veil cloak is torn. Blood runs from one ear, and both hands glow green-white as he struggles to hold the Hall's barriers in place. Remnants press against the walls beyond him, visible as long dark shapes moving beneath the stone.
He sees us. "Close the doors." Valerius turns and thrusts one hand outward.
Shadowflame slams across the broken entrance, sealing it beneath a wall of black-red fire. A Remnant claw pushes through the gap. The flame consumes it. The doors groan shut.
Luc releases a breath. "You took too long."
"I was injured," Valerius says.
Luc's eyes move over him. "I noticed."
"You could attempt concern." He shoots back.
"It wouldn't suit me." Luc says. Valerius almost smiles.
I look past them. The spirits remain still.
My father stands near the Crossing River.
He wears the same dark robes he died in.
The wound in his chest is gone, but his clothing remains stained with blood.
His face looks younger in death. Beside him stands Seren.
Her auburn curls fall loose around her shoulders.
The black sigil that strangled her is still visible around her translucent throat.
She wears her Veil-lined uniform and holds her hands clasped in front of her like the student I remember. Her eyes find mine. Her face breaks.
Valerius's Shadowflame lashes toward her instinctively. The spirits around her flicker. Luc lifts one hand. "Don't. Violence against the dead destabilizes the Crossing."
"She tried to sever us." He shouts.
"I know." Luc says.
"She betrayed her." Valerius says with anger.
"I know." Luc nods.
"She doesn't deserve protection." He turns towards Luc.
Luc's pale gaze settles on him. "This hall doesn't decide who deserves peace. Only who is ready to accept it."
Seren's eyes stay on me. She looks as though she has been crying since death. I feel nothing, no desire to cross the hall and strike her... Only recognition. Seren Ashwick, former friend, Ancient Masters' informant, deceased.
Her lips tremble. "Val."
Valerius moves closer to me. The bond fills with disgust and protective rage. I let my sovereign heart draw a fraction of it. His wall slams down immediately. Seren notices.
She looks at him, then at me, and horror passes through her face. "What happened to her?"
Valerius's voice is ice. "You."
The word cuts through the hall. Seren recoils. My father steps forward. "No." Valerius turns toward him. Alaric's spirit looks directly at me. "This was not Seren's doing."
"She used the severance spell," Valerius says. "She helped break her."
Seren closes her eyes. My father's expression tightens. "She wounded the bond. The sovereign heart closed because of what happened afterward."
"My father dying," I say.
My father looks at me. The hall becomes quieter. Even the spirits seem to lean toward us. "You remember," he whispers.
"Yes." I nod.
"Do you feel anything?" My father asks.
"No." I shake my head.
His face folds with grief. Interesting, death didn't release him from regret. "I am sorry," he says.
"I know." The answer wounds him. He expected something else. Forgiveness perhaps. "You sacrificed yourself," I continue. "The act corrected part of your previous failure."
Valerius inhales sharply beside me. Seren covers her mouth. Luc looks away. My father absorbs the statement slowly. Then nods.
"You sound like her." My father says.
The cold Starfire around my fingers brightens. "Who?"
My father looks toward the dark river. "The first Starborne." Every spirit in the hall turns its head. Toward the river. The black candles flicker.
Luc steps away from the water. "What did you say?"
My father's gaze remains fixed on the archway beyond the Crossing. "The first Starborne did not die during the purge."
The words move through the hall like thunder underwater. Valerius's hand tightens around mine. Luc goes utterly still. Seren begins crying again. A crack forms in one of the white pillars. The Remnants beneath the walls claw harder.
I study my father. "The records state the sovereign queen was burned."
"They state that her body burned." My father tries to correct me.
"Those are equivalent outcomes." I say.
"No." His eyes return to mine. "Not for Starfire."
Valerius steps slightly in front of me. "Explain."
My father looks at him. For the first time, there is no hatred in his face when he sees Valerius beside me.
"When Amara sealed Valentina, she believed she was hiding Starfire from the Ancient Masters. That is what the surviving records told us."