Chapter 38
Lochan
I trace the magical wards etched into the stone, searching for any sign of breach or weakness.
Nothing.
The defenses feel as impenetrable as ever, yet something's off. I can feel it in the air, a wrongness that sets my teeth on edge.
I press my hand flat against the wall, reaching out with my magic. There has to be something I'm missing. Some trace of how they got in, how they managed to get past the Council’s defenses.
A new thought occurs to me. What if there was no breach? What if—
No. I shake my head. But it stays, a poisonous seed taking root.
I think back to the night I overhead the dean in the abandoned wing. I still don’t know who it was the dean was talking with or what it was all about, but it wasn’t anything good—that I do know.
An inside job. It's the only thing that makes sense.
Who? Who would betray us like this? One of the professors? Or it could be a student. That asshole Marius is shady as fuck. And then there’s Brigid.
Could it be someone on the Council? I've spent my entire life obeying the Council, trusting in their wisdom and authority. But now... doubt gnaws at me, corrosive as acid.
I need to talk to someone, need to sort through this mess before I lose my damn mind. Callen. He'll know what to make of all this. Whenever I’ve gotten lost in my head, Callen’s always be able to help me make sense of things.
I head back to our rooms. Students scatter at my approach, my mood evident as I walk by them.
I burst into our suite, finding Callen lying on the couch. He looks up, eyebrow arched at my entrance.
"We need to talk. I think the attack might have been an inside job."
Callen sits up. "What makes you say that?"
"The wards are intact. No signs of breach. And there's something else..."
I pause. Callen's eyes are sharp, expectant. I take a deep breath and plunge in.
"I overheard Dean Charling talking to some woman. It was—I dunno. They mentioned a plan, convergence… shadow magic. And The Morrigan."
Callen's face goes still, a mask sliding into place. "When was this?"
"Before..." The word sticks in my throat. Before the Dean's death. Before everything went to shit. "Look, I don't know what's going on, but it all started when Brigid got here. It has to be connected."
Callen's gaze is distant, like he's looking through me to some hidden truth. When he finally speaks, his voice is careful.
"Lochan... the Dean had to know about Brigid before her powers awakened."
"What?"
Callen leans forward, his eyes never leaving mine. "Think about it. He ordered you to bring her in before her magic manifested. How could he have known? The wards wouldn’t have detected her until her powers awakened. "
The realization hits me. How did I let that little detail get by me? My mind reels, trying to make sense of it all. "But... if the Dean knew... was he behind all this? No, that can't be right. He's dead. Unless..."
"Unless someone else is pulling the strings," Callen finishes.
I sink onto the couch. I need to find out who the dean was talking to that night.
Callen's eyes lock onto mine, and I see a hesitation in them that is very un-Callen.
"There's something I need to tell you, Loch."
My muscles tense. "What?"
Callen rubs his hands over his eyes and takes a breath. “There are people who are working to return shadow magic to the world, to bring it back."
“What the fuck does that mean?” Bring back shadow magic? Who could be that stupid?
“It means that not everyone thinks that it’s a good thing that shadow magic was forbidden. I've been in touch with a group like that."
The words hit me like a blast of icy water. My vision tunnels. Rebels. Shadow magic. The very words conjure images of blood and screams.
"What the fuck, Callen?" I snarl, leaping to my feet. My right hand forms a fist, itching to connect with his highness’s perfect fucking face. "Why? Why would you do that?"
Callen doesn't flinch, just watches me. "It's not what you think. I'm trying to understand what's really going on. There's more to this than we know.” His jaw tightens. ”I had to know the truth.”
The room spins. I see my family, torn apart by shadow magic. My fathers’s blank eyes staring up at me. The rebel's laughter as they vanished into the night."The truth?” I spit. “They're murderers. Monsters."
"Some are,” he agrees. "But not all. There's more to this whole thing, to what we’ve been told to accept as truth."
I want to smash him in his stupid royal face. To make him understand the depth of this betrayal.
My chest heaves as I struggle to contain the rage boiling inside me. "What fucking reason could justify—"
"My father," Callen says sharply. "I overheard him talking with someone from the Council."
The sudden shift throws me. "What?"
"They were discussing the rebellion, Loch. Congratulating themselves on instigating it."
My mind spins. The Fae King, orchestrating the rebellion? “Bull," I say, but even I hear the note of uncertainty.
"I wish it were," Callen replies. "They spoke of their plans once the rebellion had been ‘put down’ and how no one would question the Council stepping in to rule. Not only would no one question it, they’d beg for it, after the devastation brought upon them by the rebels."
The horror of what he’s saying becomes clear. "That's impossible. The King would never—"
"Wouldn't he?" Callen's eyes bore into mine. "You grew up playing in the castle, Loch. You know my father as well as I do. King Kerian is not exactly a paragon of virtue."
Fury rises in me again, hot and choking. "And you didn't think to tell me this before?" I snarl, closing the distance between us. "We're supposed to be friends, you asshole."
Callen doesn't back down. "And what would you have done? Run to the Council? Started a witch hunt based on fragments I overheard? There was nothing either one of us on our own could do.”
"I would have helped!" I roar, shoving him hard. He stumbles back, surprise flashing across his face. "Instead, you left me in the dark while you played spy with fucking rebels!"
Threads I'd overlooked start weaving a bigger picture now. Dean Charling's cryptic conversation, the Council's swift arrival...
"If the King's involved, and the Council... This goes deep."
Callen watches me warily. "Now you see why I couldn't just blurt it out?"
I stop, fixing him with a hard stare. "Doesn't excuse the shit you pulled."
"No," he agrees, surprising me. "But it gave me intel. There’s more to talk about. You need to hear some of the stories they tell about the rebels, and how their shadow magic was ‘extracted’ from them."
The anger that's been fueling me starts to ebb, leaving exhaustion in its wake. I slump against the wall, rubbing my temples. "So what now? We can't trust anyone."
Callen moves closer. "We trust each other. Figure this clusterfuck out before it's too late."
I look up, searching his face. The mask of indifference that Callen’s worn for too long now has slipped, revealing something raw and resolute. I see the friend I grew up with – the one I'd trust with my life.
"Alright," I say, straightening. "But if you're playing me, Cal, I swear I'll end you myself."
A ghost of his familiar smirk appears. "Wouldn't have it any other way."
The strain in the room shifts, not gone, but... different. We're on shaky ground, but at least we're standing together.
It's all connected, a twisted web with Brigid at its center. But why? What makes her so fucking important?
"We need to dig deeper. The Council, the Dean... there's got to be records, communications, something."
Callen nods, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous light. "I think another trip to the restricted archives is in order, that is if—"
"Do it," I cut him off. "Whatever it takes."
I consider the implications. If we're right, if the leadership of the Council, and by definition Grimstone Academy as well, is corrupt...
"We can't trust anyone else with this," I mutter, more to myself than Callen. "Not until we know more."
"Agreed," Callen says. "We move carefully. Fill in Rory and Tiernan, of course."
I nod.
“And Brigid?”
“What about her?”
“She’s at the center of this, like you said.”
“Yeah, and we don’t know if that’s good or bad.”
Callen gives me a look.
“Fine. Go get her. I’ll find Rory and Tiernan.”
As Callen leaves, I'm left alone with my thoughts. The room feels suffocating now. I move to the window, staring out at the grounds. I’ve been a perfect soldier for Grimstone, for the Council. I’ve followed every order and done my duty. For what?
How deep does the rot go?
One thing's for certain – I’ll tear this place apart, brick by fucking brick, to get to the truth.