Crimson Storm (Star Touched: Witch Blade #3)

AVERY

My footsteps echo against the volcanic stone as I walk through the covered walkways that connect the buildings of the academy, and I count them like I used to count the beats between Oliver’s laughs.

One, two, three. They’re steady and measured—the rhythm of someone who definitely isn’t falling apart.

You’re fine. This is fine. You’re meeting a first-year in a creepy death chamber at night because everything is totally, completely fine.

Finally, I arrive at the entrance and walk inside, to where three corridors branch off from the central room. I’ve never been a religious person, but I came here once with Oliver during our first year, when he insisted on exploring every inch of the island.

The memory hits like a punch to the gut. But I do what I’m best at and shove it down, burying it deep and continuing forward like everything’s fine.

The door to the Crone Chamber is already open.

Inside, Nina Aldridge stands before the altar, her braids catching the light from the eternal flame. The obsidian walls gleam around her, the hundreds of names carved into it creating a tapestry of the dead. Some are so old they’ve worn smooth, and others look fresh, the letters still sharp.

Will Oliver’s name end up here?

Stop it. You don’t know anything yet.

The emptiness where the emberlink used to burn says otherwise.

“You came.” Nina turns to face me, her expression calm and assessing, like she’s already catalogued three details about me since I walked in.

“Did you think I wouldn’t?”

“I thought you might lose your nerve.” She gestures to the space beside her. “Close the door.”

I do, the click of the latch sounding louder than it should.

“Do you know why I chose this place?” She moves to one of the walls, trailing her fingers along the carved names.

“Because it’s empty at night?”

“That’s part of it.” She turns back to face me. “But mainly because the Crone Chamber has its own magic. Truth magic. There’s an old tradition that lies can’t be spoken here without the flames dimming.”

I glance at the eternal flame. It burns steady and bright, casting dancing shadows across the walls.

She holds my gaze, her voice matter of fact. “I need to know I can trust you before I share what I know.”

This is insane. This is absolutely, positively insane.

But I don’t leave. Because the void in my chest where Oliver used to be is aching, and I’m desperate enough to do anything that might give me answers.

“Fine.” I straighten my shoulders, forcing myself to meet her gaze. “Ask your questions.”

Nina nods once. “Do you believe Oliver left the island voluntarily?”

“No.”

The word comes out sharp and certain.

The flame doesn’t flicker.

“Good.” Her expression doesn’t change, but there’s approval in her tone. “Do you believe the Council is telling the truth about his disappearance?”

“No.” Again, the flame stays steady.

“Do you believe he’s alive?”

My breath catches.

Say yes. Keep up hope.

“I don’t know,” I whisper.

The flame flickers.

“You’re lying to yourself,” she says, gentler than I thought she’d be capable of. “Part of you knows the truth. You just don’t want to accept it.”

He’s dead. Oliver’s dead. You’ve known it since the emberlink broke.

I press my palms against my eyes, fighting tears. I’ve spent three years perfecting the art of crying only in private, and I’m not about to break that streak in front of a first-year.

“You don’t have to do that here,” Nina says, breaking through my thoughts.

I drop my hands. “Do what?”

“Pretend.” She shrugs one shoulder. “The Crone Chamber is for endings. For facing hard truths. You don’t have to smile through it.”

The permission to stop pretending, even for a moment, makes my eyes burn harder.

“One more question.” She moves closer, watching me as if she can see straight into my soul.

I nod, not trusting my voice.

“Do you believe anyone at the academy knows what really happened to Oliver?”

I think about the hollow look in Evie’s eyes before she disappeared. The way Jade couldn’t meet my gaze in the dining hall. Logan’s careful blankness whenever Oliver’s name came up.

“Yes,” I say. “I think someone knows.”

The flame burns steady.

“So do I.” She nods slowly. “I’ve heard rumors about Jade Harrington.”

Jade. Of course it comes back to Jade. Everything has come back to Jade since she arrived at this school with her chaotic energy and her effortless ability to make Oliver forget that anyone else existed.

But I need to focus on Nina, who—for some reason I don’t understand—seems to want to help me.

So, I take a deep breath and speak.

“Do you mean rumors about her lightning magic?” I ask, since that’s all people were talking about today.

“That’s a fact, not a rumor,” Nina says simply. “I heard Jade was seen with Logan Ashford at strange hours. That there was an incident the night Oliver disappeared, and that it involved her.”

I pause for a moment.

“Where are you going with this?”

“I’m wondering if you think Jade was involved in Oliver’s disappearance,” she says simply.

The easy answer would be yes, I think Jade swooped in and stole the attention of the only person I’ve ever loved, and now he’s gone, and wouldn’t it be nice if I could blame her?

“Jade’s impulsive. She’s reckless. But...” I take a breath. “I don’t think she would hurt Oliver.”

The flame stays steady.

Nina’s expression softens, just slightly.

“Good.”

“Good?”

She moves to lean against the altar, crossing her arms. “I needed to know you weren’t looking for a convenient villain to focus your grief on.”

My heart drops into my stomach. “And if I had been?”

“Then I would have walked away. Because blaming Jade might feel satisfying, but it won’t get us closer to the truth.” Her unnerving dark eyes remain focused on mine. “Now I know you want answers—not revenge. Which means we can work together on figuring out what actually happened to Oliver.”

I study her, not fully trusting her. “Why are you even getting involved with this?”

“Like I told you, Oliver and I were family friends growing up. The Thornes would visit from time to time.”

Pain flickers across her face. It’s quick and controlled, but not quick enough.

I have a big suspicion about why that could be. Oliver was too charming for his own good, and if anyone could break through Nina’s concrete walls, it would be him.

Oliver, however, never mentioned Nina.

“You cared about him,” I say simply.

“I want to know what happened to him.” She blinks away any hint of emotion and pushes off the altar.

“There are inconsistencies that don’t add up.

Helen Finchman’s recording orbs are everywhere, but they never capture anything useful.

And the Council concluded their investigation suspiciously fast.”

“Do you think the Council’s hiding something?”

“Everyone’s always hiding something. But you have the emberlink. Your magic was connected to Oliver’s in a way that goes deeper than friendship, deeper than romance. If there’s anyone most likely to be on my side, it’s you.”

The void in my chest pulses at her words.

“The bond’s healing,” I admit. “It shouldn’t be healing if he’s just far away.”

“No,” she says, gentle again. “It shouldn’t.”

The eternal flame crackles softly, casting shifting shadows across the carved names on the walls.

“There’s something else,” I say before I can think better of it. “Something that’s been bothering me.”

Nina raises an eyebrow. “Go on.”

“My memories of Oliver feel fuzzy and distant.” I wrap my arms around myself. “It’s like I’m watching them through frosted glass.”

Nina’s expression sharpens. “Grief eats holes in memory.”

“I don’t know what it is. I just know it’s not right. And last night, I asked Tobias Cane to help me figure out what’s wrong in my head.”

Her eyebrows lift. “You asked a Council member to search your memories?”

“He has memory magic. And he seems...” I trail off, searching for the right word to describe the man with empathetic eyes who’s crawled his way under my skin and seems determined to stay there. “Sympathetic. When I talked to him about Oliver, he understood what I was going through.”

Nina tilts her head, studying me like I’m a puzzle. “What did he say?”

“He told me he’d help me.” I twist my fingers together, the flame crackling in the following silence.

“Tobias Cane is Council,” she reminds me, as if I could ever forget. “We don’t know why they’re really here, or what they’re hiding.”

“He wants to help.” The defense comes out before I can stop it. “I mean—he seems genuinely kind. When he looks at me, it’s like...” I pause, heat creeping up my neck. “It’s like he actually sees me.”

Nina watches me and waits a beat. “Are you sure that’s not because he’s attractive and paid attention to you?”

My face flames.

Is that what this is? Am I really so pathetic that a man showing me basic human kindness is enough to make me trust him?

“I’m not judging,” she says. “Attraction can be useful.”

I blink. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that if Tobias Cane is attracted to you, that’s leverage.” She moves closer, her eyes holding mine. “If you can get close to him and earn his trust, you might be able to access information we couldn’t get any other way.”

The implication settles over me like a cold blanket.

“You want me to use him.”

“I want you to be strategic.” She shrugs one shoulder. “He has access to Council information. He has magic that could help you understand what the backlash of the broken emberlink bond made you forget, and he’s shown interest in helping you. Why not take advantage of that?”

“It’s not like that.” The words come out too fast. “I’m not pretending to like him so I can get information.”

Nina’s eyes glitter. “Because you actually like him.”

“I don’t know what I feel.” I press my palms against my thighs, my heart beating fast. “Oliver’s gone, my bond is dead, and I shouldn’t be thinking about anyone like this.”

“It doesn’t matter what you think you should be doing, because you are thinking about him like this,” she says, and I swear this girl knows exactly what to say to get under my skin.

“It doesn’t matter what I feel. He’s Council. He’s here to investigate. Whatever this is…” I gesture at my chest, to where my heart and broken emberlink bond are. “It’s irrelevant.”

“Is it?” she says softly. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks very, very relevant.”