Chapter 32
Chapter
Thirty-Two
Winter
Iwoke with a gasp, my body drenched in cold sweat. The darkness of my bedroom pressed against me as I tried to orient myself, heart hammering against my ribs. Something was wrong. I couldn't remember dreaming, but my hands were glowing faintly blue, casting eerie shadows across the walls.
When I pulled back the blanket, I found a spiral burned into the fabric, a perfect coil that smoldered slightly at the edges. I stared at it, trying to make sense of what I was seeing.
"What the hell?" I touched the pattern with trembling fingers.
The mirror on my dresser caught my attention with a flicker of movement that shouldn't have been there. I turned more toward it, freezing when I saw not just my reflection but something else. A version of myself with a bleeding mark over my left eye, there and gone in an instant when I blinked.
My breath caught in my throat. I scrambled out of bed, suddenly desperate to escape the confines of my room. The burned spiral on my blanket seemed to mock me as I fumbled for the light switch, my fingers clumsy with fear.
The living room was dimly lit when I stepped into it, the glow from my hands providing more illumination than the night lights Fenric had insisted on installing "for security purposes.
" Zane was pacing by the window, his body tense as a bowstring.
He turned when he heard me, his mismatched eyes narrowing with concern.
"You feel it too." It wasn't a question.
I nodded, rubbing my arms to dispel the chill that had nothing to do with the temperature. "Something's wrong. I woke up and my hands were glowing, and there was a burned spiral on my blanket."
Rook rose from his position by the door, nostrils flaring as he scented the air. "The apartment smells wrong."
"Wrong how?" I moved closer to them both, seeking the comfort of their presence.
"Like ozone," Rook's eyes gleamed amber in the dim light. "And something else. Something that shouldn't be here."
I looked around, suddenly noticing an absence. "Where's Milo and Horrace? Fenric?"
"Left about three hours ago," Zane's voice was tight with tension. "Milo said he felt a weird energy fluctuation and wanted to check it out and he asked Horrace to go with him. He hasn't checked in. Fenric had an emergency meeting."
Alarm shot through me. "And you let Milo go alone?"
"He insisted," Rook growled. "Said it was probably nothing, just some necromantic residue he wanted to investigate."
"We should call him," I reached for my phone, but Zane shook his head.
"Already tried. It goes straight to voicemail."
The unease that had woken me intensified, coiling in my gut like a living thing. I moved to the window beside Zane, looking out at the city skyline. Something about the light seemed off, too sharp, too defined, as if reality itself had been turned up a notch.
"Something's off. It's like the world's hiccuping and pretending it's fine," Zane murmured, his eyes scanning the horizon.
As if in response to his words, a wave of energy surged through me without warning.
My magic exploded outward, doubled and overcharged, hitting the wall with enough force to leave a smoking crater.
A book that had been on a nearby shelf fell in slow motion, taking several seconds to drift to the floor in a temporal delay that made my skin crawl.
"Winter!" Zane grabbed my shoulders, steadying me as I staggered. "What was that?"
"I don't know," I gasped, staring at the damaged wall in horror. "It just happened. I couldn't control it."
The door opened with a bang, and we all spun toward it, ready for an attack. Instead, Fenric stood in the doorway, his silver-blonde hair disheveled, his usually immaculate suit wrinkled. He looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes and a grim set to his mouth.
"We have a situation," he announced without preamble, stepping into the apartment and closing the door firmly behind him.
I'd barely seen him since our kiss. When we had gone to the breach, it was contained and they wouldn't allow me and my unstable prophecy magic near it for safety concerns.
"No shit," I gestured to the smoking hole in the wall. "My magic just went haywire."
Fenric barely glanced at the damage, which was unusual for someone who documented every sneeze I made. "It's happening citywide. We've had reports of multiple magical anomalies in the last six hours."
"What kind of anomalies?" Rook moved closer to me protectively.
"Chronomancers losing time. Familiar bonds breaking spontaneously. Spirit animals going mute." Fenric's eye twitched, a sure sign of extreme stress. "And multiple low-level veil leaks reported across the city."
A chill ran down my spine. "The breach at the containment facility, you said it was contained."
"It was. Physically." Fenric's gaze met mine, and I saw genuine fear there. "But the effects are spreading. The Veil didn't just crack. It stretched and it's still moving."
"What does that mean?" I demanded, even as dread pooled in my stomach.
Before Fenric could answer, Rook stepped forward, his face tight with barely controlled anger. "What did you do?" he demanded, eyes fixed on me.
The accusation stung. "I didn't do anything. That's the problem." Hurt flashed through me.
"The breach happened after you absorbed those prophecy fragments," Rook pressed, his voice rising. "After you messed with forces no one understands."
"Back off, wolf," Zane moved between us, his own anger flaring. "This isn't her fault."
"Then whose is it?" Rook snarled, his canines lengthening slightly as his control slipped. "The Veil was stable before she started collecting artifacts and absorbing prophecies."
"Stop it, both of you!" I shouted, my patience snapping. "This isn't helping!"
My anger exploded outward in a wave of heat that distorted the air around us. Rook and Zane both staggered, their expressions shifting to shock as the wave passed through them. They stared at me, no, through me, their eyes widening in alarm.
"Winter," Rook's voice had lost its anger, replaced by something close to fear. "Your face..."
"What?" I reached up instinctively. "What about my face?"
"It changed," Zane whispered. "Just for a second. You were older. Scarred. Your eyes were glowing, and you had Harbinger tattoos."
The blood drained from my face. "You both saw it?"
They nodded, exchanging troubled glances. Rook moved forward cautiously, as if approaching a wild animal. When he reached me, he surprised us all by dropping to one knee, taking my hands in his much larger ones.
"This isn't you," his voice quiet, more to himself than to me. "Whatever we saw, it's not you."
I squeezed his hands, grateful for his sudden faith despite his earlier accusations. "I don't know what's happening to me, Rook."
Fenric cleared his throat, drawing our attention back to him. "We need to examine you, Winter. The Bureau has specialists who might be able to determine what's causing these fluctuations."
"I'm not going back to the Bureau," I shook my head. "Not when we don't know who we can trust there."
"Then at least let me check you here," Fenric pulled out a small crystal from his pocket. "This will allow me to see if there are any changes to your prophetic markings."
I hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. Fenric approached, holding the crystal over my arm where the blue markings pulsed. The crystal glowed in response, projecting a magical readout into the air between us.
"Interesting," Fenric studied the patterns. "The markings have changed since your last examination."
"Changed how?" I tried to decipher the complex magical symbols floating above my arm.
"There's a new pattern forming," he pointed to a thin, spiraled line that cut across the other markings. "Here. It's different from the prophetic runes."
I twisted my arm to see better, recognizing the spiral pattern as identical to the one burned into my blanket. "What does it mean?"
Fenric's expression was grave as he met my eyes. "I'm not certain. But based on historical records, it appears to be a Harbinger mark."
"A what?"
The room seemed to tilt around me.
"The Harbingers sometimes leave signatures on those they interact with," Fenric explained. "A way of tracking or influencing them."
"Are you saying they're marking me? Tagging me like some animal?" Anger and fear warred within me.
"Or preparing you," Fenric's voice dropped lower. "For what, I don't know."
I pulled away from him, pacing across the room as I tried to process this new information. The spiral on my arm seemed to pulse with its own rhythm, distinct from the blue markings that had become so familiar.
"We need to find Milo," I turned back to face them. "If something's happening with the Veil, he could be in danger."
"I'll try tracking him," Zane pulledout his phone. "The Bureau has location spells tied to all guardian badges."
While Zane worked on that, I retreated to my bedroom, needing a moment alone to think.
The burned spiral on my blanket seemed more ominous now, knowing a similar mark was forming on my skin.
I stripped off my sweat-soaked pajamas and stood before the full-length mirror, studying my body in the dim light.
The blue prophetic markings had spread across most of my torso now, curling around my ribs and down my left leg. But there, on my right side, was the new mark Fenric had identified, a thin, spiraled line that pulsed with a subtle glow when I touched it.
A soft knock at the door interrupted my examination. "Winter?" Fenric's voice came through the wood. "May I speak with you?"
"Just a second," I pulled on clean clothes and opened the door.
Fenric stood in the hallway, his composure mostly restored though strain still showed around his eyes. "I wanted to check if you're alright. You seemed distressed."
"I am distressed," I admitted, letting him into the room. "I have a mysterious spiral forming on my body that might be connected to cosmic entities who want to use me as a weapon. Not exactly a relaxing night."
He nodded, his eyes drifting to the burned spiral on my blanket. "The pattern is identical."
"Yeah, I noticed." I sat on the edge of the bed, suddenly exhausted. "What does it mean, Fenric? Really?"
He hesitated, clearly weighing how much to tell me. "The spiral is an ancient symbol, predating most magical traditions. In the context of the Harbingers, it represents a cycle, a beginning, continuation, and ending."
"That's cryptic and unhelpful."
"What I mean is," he sighed, sitting beside me with uncharacteristic informality, "they may be preparing you for a role in their plans. The spiral completes when the preparation is finished."
"And if the spiral completes?"
Fenric's eyes met mine, his expression grim. "Then it's already too late."
The weight of his words settled over me like a shroud. We sat in silence for a moment, the gravity of the situation pressing down on us both.
"What happened the last time the Veil cracked?" I finally asked. "There must be records, precedents."
Fenric looked away, his profile rigid in the dim light. He didn't answer.
"Fenric, what aren't you telling me?"
Before he could respond, Zane appeared in the doorway, his expression tight with concern. "Still no word from Milo, but I found this." He held up a piece of enchanted paper, the kind that could be used for magical messages. "It just appeared on the coffee table."
I took the paper from him, unfolding it carefully. The message inside was brief, written in Milo's distinctive scrawl:
"Found something. Not good. Bring the others."
Below that was an address in the warehouse district, followed by a small drawing of a skeleton giving a thumbs up, Milo's signature.
"We need to go," I was already reaching for my shoes. "Now."
"It could be a trap," Rook cautioned from the hallway, having joined us silently.
"It's Milo. He needs us."
The three men exchanged glances, a silent communication passing between them. Then, with synchronized nods, they began preparing for departure.
As I gathered my things, I pressed my palm to the new mark on my side, feeling it pulse beneath my touch.
The Veil might have cracked, but I was the one who felt ready to break.