27 #2
“This is payback for everyone you've ever tortured.” Stella’s words hit the air like a blade, her magic jolting me hard enough that I almost lost my grip on the array.
The sigils surged in response, but they didn’t settle the way they were supposed to. They slipped out of alignment, tried to reform, and came back wrong. I shoved harder, forcing them back into place, forcing them to stay connected to Caspian’s soul.
“What the fuck is she doing? She’ll destroy this whole place!” Ren held me tighter, protecting me against rogue magic and flying debris. I had never seen Stella use such terrifying magic. Whatever she was doing wasn’t control. It was an execution, and Alistair was her target.
White light flashed at the edge of my vision. Stella’s magic met Alistair’s silver chains as they snapped up in answer. The impact shook the room, but it wasn’t sound or force that followed. It was growth.
Something spread across the chains, crawling over them too fast to track, like the magic itself had taken root.
Alistair staggered back, but it followed him. White blooms opened along his arms, his chains, anything his magic touched. They didn’t strike. They latched.
“You wouldn’t,” he snapped, silver clashing against white.
“Oh, I so would.” Stella’s magic blossomed. The chains shuddered, no longer holding their original shape. They didn’t break or dissolve, but they reformed into something else mid-function, as if they couldn’t decide what they were supposed to be anymore.
The array beneath me flared violently. My magic surged in response, trying to correct the imbalance. It didn’t take. The correction came back wrong, and I realized too late what was happening.
Stella’s curse wasn’t just spreading through Alistair’s chains, it was in the array. And the array was starting to echo it back.
“I … I can’t stabilize it.” My lungs couldn’t pull in air fast enough.
“Then let me help.” Alex’s voice cut through the chaos as he knelt beside me. Markus was already at the edge of the circle, Jordan covering him while he worked. I barely registered them before they dropped into position, hands moving in sync.
“We can do this, Theo. Focus on the veil.” Alex’s magic pressed against mine, not replacing it, but anchoring it, forcing the array into something coherent again.
“But … Caspian.” His presence was flickering now, no longer fully anchored. The soul I’d been holding was thinning at the edges, unable to decide where it should exist.
“Caspian comes later,” Ren said sharply. “Fix the veil.”
Another surge slammed through the room. Silver and white collided again, and the distortion didn’t just ripple through the array. It split it.
The stabilization Alex was holding stopped being singular. It became multiple different options. And none of them matched.
The veil wasn’t something I could see, but I could feel it unraveling under the pressure, like a frayed piece of string being pulled apart in many directions.
Alex felt it too. His grip on his magic tightened. “It’s not sealing.”
“I know,” I said, forcing another closure attempt anyway. It immediately opened again, not once, but multiple times.
Above us, everything fractured again. Silver, white, and something deeper folding into each other until the array could no longer agree on its own structure.
My stomach dropped. The veil wasn’t rejecting the repair, it was changing what the repair actually meant.
Alex’s voice went tight. “It’s not rejecting. It’s adapting.”
And then I understood. The anchor wasn’t a fixed structure. It adapted to the user, to the magic being wielded, to the emotions and intent placed in it. My inability to decide whether to save Caspian or repair the veil meant it was trying to accomplish both.
I had to let Caspian go. Again.
Tears spilled down my cheeks as his flickering form dissolved into thin air.
“We have to rewrite the magic,” I groaned out. “It’s … beyond repair.”
Alex looked at me, face pale with strain. “Theo—”
“I know,” I cut in. “I know what it costs.”
Stella and Alistair continued to battle, their magic blurring into pressure and light, silver and white collapsing into each other until even sound couldn’t decide how to travel.
The array beneath it all began to stabilize—not into stillness, but into repetition.
Every time I tried to close the repair, I wasn’t fixing it, I was teaching it how to repeat failure.
It needed to be guided toward a resolution.
My hand stayed hovering over a sigil, trembling in the air, but I didn’t give it another attempt. Instead, I just held the magic there, waiting for it to adjust.
Alex felt the shift immediately. His head snapped toward me. “Theo?”
“Don’t finish it,” I said, voice tight. “Don’t let it complete.”
My thoughts and intentions changed the pattern. The veil was beyond complete repair now. But I could change the fundamental structure of how it functioned to prevent further damage.
Alex reacted fast, understanding without needing explanation. His magic pressed into mine, not shaping the array, but locking its rhythm in place. Holding it steady long enough that it couldn’t drift into divergence again.
“That’s it,” he said through gritted teeth. “Keep it there.”
The unraveling veil responded, each piece of the fraying thread looping on repeat to stitch itself together. Above us, the chaos of silver and white faltered. The sound of battle dulled.
Alex’s grip finally eased, just slightly. “It’s stable.”
My hands slapped the concrete harder than I wanted them to, my breaths coming in heavy pants. Stable didn’t mean it was whole. It wasn’t completely safe, but it would react to threats and adapt, and that had to be enough.
“Theo, you did it.” Ren caught me in his arms as I let exhaustion claim me. The bright lights of magic dulled around me as the array completed its purpose and faded.
“We can’t stick around here too long,” Markus reminded us. “The ward I put up around that door won’t hold forever.”
I clutched Ren’s shirt and winced as the pain surged back through me. It settled deep into my muscles, heavy and unrelenting, my wounds throbbing with every breath I took.
Ren’s magic washed over me like a quiet tide, softening the pain until it no longer cut so sharply, my body finally beginning to relax.
“Wait.” Ivy stepped toward Alistair. He was bruised and bloodied, white flower petals clinging to him as he tried to crawl away. He was still conscious, but barely. No one had bothered tying him up, since he wasn’t in any condition to go anywhere.
She grabbed the front of his suit, hoisted him closer, and punched him square in the face. Blood gushed from his nose and mouth. “That’s for hurting my friends. Asshole.”
For a moment, nobody spoke. Ivy lowered let go of her grip, glaring down at him as he smacked against the floor. Her usually gentle expression was hardened by anger.
Beside her stood a creature I had never seen her summon before.
It wasn't large or imposing like one would expect from a creature summoned to attack.
In fact, it was unsettlingly small, its thin frame wrapped in dark, mottled skin stretched tightly over sharp bones.
Too many joints bent at unnatural angles, and its long fingers ended in needle-like claws that scraped softly against the floor.
Its hollow eyes locked onto Alistair without blinking.
“I think you remember Orren?” She smirked. “My new friend wants to play.”
It was the same creature that had attacked me and Jacob, the same creature born from corrupted magic and twisted into something unnatural. Somehow, Ivy had formed a contract with it, binding the creature to her will.
Orren's hollow gaze settled on Alistair. The creature wasn't here to protect us. It was here for revenge. I looked away as Orren lunged and Alistair screamed when jagged teeth bit into his arm.
“You go, girl!” Jacob cheered from behind her. “Wait, Ivy, I’m still here. I think you powered up! You summoned two contracts at a time!”
“Celebrate later. Time to go.” Ren scooped me up in his arms, strong and steady despite his obvious nervousness that I was barely holding on. We rushed toward Jacob, but there were too many of us to transport at the same time.
I buried my face in Ren’s chest. I knew he could transport, but with his inability to pinpoint location very well, he wouldn’t risk traveling with me being so injured. He wouldn’t give me up, either, though. His grip on me tightened.
“Someone needs to stay with me,” Markus called out from beside the array. “I can use a transportation array to get out of here, but I need someone to stay behind while I completely destroy this array in case I get unwanted visitors.”
Stella sighed. “Fine. Jordan, Alex … let’s stay here and make sure no one else attacks Merlin over here.”
As Ren stepped beside Jacob, a white mist surrounded us. It was cold and damp, every breath like pins and needles, but being held in Ren’s arms was the most comforting thing I had felt in weeks.