Chapter 3 #2
Her head lifted slowly. Too slowly. Like she was moving underwater.
And when her eyes met mine, they were wrong. Not just tired or distant—gone. The rich brown I knew was swallowed by pure black, like staring into a well with no bottom.
What was wrong with Raven? My ring on my neck had gone cold, and the dead whispered warnings.
I felt it before I understood it—a press of ancient awareness, coiling at the edge of my necromancy like it had been waiting for me to arrive.
A cold shudder climbed up my spine.
You okay? The words came out thin. Stupid. I already knew the answer.
I’m fine. Flat. Empty. Her voice without her in it.
Lucas pushed back from the table, his chair scraping against stone and his familiar taking flight. Raven? You’ve been off all morning, but this—
I said I’m fine. Her voice was sharper now, not hers anymore, just coming from her mouth.
Scout went rigid against my arm.
Raven…
Her eyes were still black, same familiar features. But something old and hungry stared out from behind them.
The master was looking at me through her. I knew it without knowing exactly how. This wasn’t Raven anymore.
Aurora stood slowly. Marigold, what’s wrong with her eyes?
Lucas, Aurora, move—
Too late.
Reddish-black magic erupted from Raven’s hands—no trace of normal necromancy, nothing meant to exist. It lashed across the table, slamming into Lucas’s chest.
He hit the floor hard, blood already spreading across the stone.
Lucas!
Aurora dropped to her knees beside him. No, no, no… Her hands pressed against the wound, blood pooling between her fingers. Lucas, stay with me…
Wards blared above us—sharp, magical tones that meant active threat. Librarians scrambled to contain the exits, herding students away while trying not to panic. Somewhere in the distance, I heard someone shouting for the Shroud Guard.
I edged around the table toward Raven, feeling my magic rise. The library’s dead stirred beneath my feet—old bones in the foundation, lingering echoes of lives long gone.
Raven rose slowly, the wrongness still looking out through her black eyes.
The master knows you, traitor’s daughter. The thing using Raven’s mouth smiled. He knows who you love. Who you’d bleed for. And now he knows how easy it is to take them.
Ice flooded my veins.
Raven, fight it! I stepped between her and Lucas’s bleeding body, between her and Aurora kneeling in his blood. I know you’re in there. You’re not alone.
Alone? Her laugh was bitter, broken. I’ve been alone my whole life, Marigold. You know what that’s like, right? Being the one people forget about. The one who doesn’t matter.
My throat closed.
But he saw me. Raven’s eyes—or whatever looked through them—gleamed. While you were gone, living your life, he listened. He told me I mattered. That I was important. That I could be more than invisible.
Raven, that’s not—
He gave me what you never did. The wrongness smiled with her face. Attention.
The corrupted magic lashed out again.
I dove aside, the air burning with rot and ruin.
Aurora screamed.
Tables overturned behind me.
Enough! a voice shouted. Ms. Tamsin, one of the senior librarians, rushed toward us with a glowing ward sigil already forming at her fingertips. Miss Singer, stand down—
The spell hit her square in the chest. A flash of crimson-black slammed her backward into a bookshelf as books exploded outward in a cascade of torn pages. She didn’t rise.
The silence after that was brief and horrifying.
A portal tore open beside me, silver-edged and blazing. Keane emerged first, Wisp flaring at his feet. His gaze took everything in at once—Lucas bleeding, Aurora kneeling in his blood, Raven, me backing toward the wall.
How are you here? I asked.
My portals caught the disturbance, he said as Cyrus and Elio emerged behind him.
Cyrus raised his hand, and fire snapped into place—deadly and contained, a blue-edged ring that caged Raven without scorching a thing.
Don’t hurt her! My voice cracked. She’s still in there. She’s…
Cyrus’s fire blazed hotter, the blue flames creating a barrier. He nodded, but when his eyes found Aurora—pale and shaking, covered in Lucas’s blood—something tightened in his expression. But we’re not letting anyone else get hurt today.
The words hit me sideways. Anyone else. I looked at Lucas and then at the librarian who still lay silent where she had fallen. Raven, what have you done?
Keane was already at Lucas’s side, Aurora scrambling back to give him room. Aurora, can you walk?
She nodded, her eyes wide and terrified.
Ms. Tamsin, she whispered, gesturing to where the librarian lay crumpled near the stacks, unmoving and half-buried in scattered pages.
We’ll get her, Keane said. Now, through the portal. Medical center. Stay with him.
The portal shimmered open beneath Lucas.
Keane’s hand found Aurora’s shoulder. Go. Now.
She went, disappearing through the portal with one last terrified look at Raven.
Elio was already sealing exits, his illusions creating barriers while Echo’s scales flashed warning reds. Marigold, get back…
But I couldn’t. I couldn’t give up on her.
Raven laughed.
You think you can save her? The thing wearing Raven’s face smiled. I chose her, traitor’s daughter. Someone close enough to matter. Someone quiet enough to overlook.
My stomach dropped.
Someone you left behind, it continued, tilting its head. Here. At Wickem. While you were busy with your heirs and your plots and your drama. She was right there, Marigold. And you never even noticed.
The guilt was a knife between my ribs.
He wants me, I whispered.
Yes, it said pleasantly. And now I know how.
Raven, please. I stepped closer, reaching out with my necromancy to search beneath the corruption for anything that was still her. You’re not invisible. You were never invisible to me. I see you. I’m sorry I didn’t—that I left—but I see you now.
For one heartbeat, I felt her… trapped, terrified, fighting.
Boris flared with his true colors, struggling against the darkness wrapped around them both.
That’s it, I whispered. Fight him. You’re stronger than whatever he promised you. You’re—
Something surged.
Blood-dark magic—impossible and violent—wrapped around her, yanking her backward, and the shadows peeled open like a wound in the world, swallowing Raven whole.
No!
I lunged forward, my necromancy flaring, but someone caught me. Their arms locked around my waist and pulled me back as shadows swallowed Raven whole.
And then she was gone.
Cyrus’s arms were still holding me. When had he moved? Heat and solidity.
I should have pulled away. Should have put distance between us after he’d made it clear he needed space.
But my legs gave out, and his grip tightened, keeping me upright while the world tilted.
I left her, I whispered, not sure if I was talking to him or just saying it out loud. Not in Albany—here. All semester. She was right there, and I was so caught up in everything with you three, with the council, with the conspiracy. I didn’t even notice when she started pulling away.
His chest rose and fell against my back. For a long moment, he didn’t speak.
He’s ancient, Cyrus said finally, his voice rough and low near my ear. He’s been doing this for centuries. You’ve been here one semester. This is not on you.
The words should have helped. They didn’t.
She asked me to stop her if something went wrong. My voice cracked. She knew something was wrong and I—
You couldn’t have stopped this. His arms loosened slightly, like he’d just realized he was still holding me. Like he wasn’t sure if he should let go. None of us could.
I turned in his grip. I couldn’t help it. I needed to see his face.
His jaw was tight, fire flickering in his eyes.
Keane reappeared through a portal, his expression grim. Lucas is fine. Unconscious, but the healers say he’ll recover. No signs of corruption. It was a direct strike, not an infection.
Alive but just hurt. Small mercies.
And the librarian is stable as well, he continued, squeezing my hand. No one else was hurt.
I nodded.
Aurora? Cyrus asked, his voice carefully neutral.
With him. Shaken but unhurt. Keane’s eyes found mine. She saw everything.
Of course she had. Another person pulled into this nightmare because they’d been close to me.
Elio stood a few feet away, Echo wrapped around his shoulder. The shadows she disappeared into—that was blood magic. Transportation, probably.
To where? My voice sounded hollow.
The master, Cyrus said flatly. He’d stepped back now, putting careful distance between us again, but his eyes were still on me. He took her to prove he could.
The air split with the sound of another portal opening.
Captain Morrison stepped through, Shroud Guards flanking him. His expression was grim. Perimeter sealed. We picked up a surge in forbidden magic.
His gaze landed on me and then on the destruction Raven had left behind. Is anyone else injured?
Keane answered.
Good. Morrison’s jaw clenched. Raynoff will want a full account. Be ready. Then, almost as an afterthought, he said, You did well containing it.
A second portal shimmered, and Lord Raynoff stepped through, also flanked by Shroud Guards. His gaze swept the scene. When his eyes found Cyrus—found all of us—something tight in his expression eased fractionally. Alive. We were alive.
Then the Lord Raynoff who ran the emergency council snapped back into place.
Report. Not: Are you hurt? Not: What happened? But his hand briefly squeezed Cyrus’s shoulder as he passed—the only acknowledgment that this was personal.
Cyrus’s voice was clipped, emotionless. Corrupted witch. Confirmed the master influence. Direct targeting of Miss Grimley. Subject escaped via blood magic transportation.
His father’s expression didn’t change. Casualties?
Two injured. Lucas Maddock. Librarian Tasmin. Portaled to medical center. No corruption detected. Stable condition.
He nodded once and then turned to coordinate with the Shroud Guards securing the scene.
Cyrus stood rigid beside me, watching his father work. The man had spent eighteen years believing lies and the last month trying to make it right.
Come on, Keane said quietly, his hand finding my elbow. Let’s get you somewhere safe.
I let him guide me toward the portal, Elio falling into step on my other side.
Cyrus hesitated and then followed—close enough to protect yet far enough away to maintain the distance he clearly still needed.
And somewhere out there, the master had Raven.
He’d taken her to prove he could reach anyone I cared about.
To prove that nowhere was safe.
That no one was safe.