CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
We gather in a room I don’t recognize, shadows flickering over the curved stone walls from the few candles the Professor has lit. I’m jittery as I look around at the others. Lily wrings her hands nervously, gaze darting between each of us. Ava is stony, composed, but I see the tension there.
Damien is the calmest of all, surveying the room with a steady gaze, but he seems to be looking past us, towards something we cannot see. “She is still there,” he says.
“Mortis?” I ask.
He nods, pacing. “In the ballroom, but in a different dimension—a construct. She’ll need time to recover, to build back her power after the…”
He doesn’t say it, but we’re all thinking it—massacre.
Because that’s what this is, plain and simple.
Half the student population must be there, murdered in cold blood.
I think of Leo, that look on his face, like he couldn’t believe he was dead.
The gaping hole in his chest.
I can’t bear it.
“If we are to strike,” continues Damien, “we strike now while she is weakened. That many deaths, that much concentrated pain… It will take time to filter to her, but when it does, she will be unstoppable.”
I steel myself, because fuck this bitch. She has to go down.
“I think I know how to find her,” Damien says. “I can open a portal, but like I said, it’s now or never.”
I nod. “Let’s do this then.”
I look around, but the others, while nodding their approval, don’t seem so sure.
“We’re agreed?” Damien says.
“We’re agreed,” I answer.
Damien eyes with me. “Ana, are you sure?”
I nod again.
My stomach twists at the thought of what's to come. I know better than to protest, though—we all have our parts in this. I won't back down from mine. I lift my head and stare into the shadows, see them now as my kin and power.
"I'm ready," I say, willing my voice not to shake. "Let's go.”
Damien nods and steps forward, raising his hands. Magic crackles through the air as he begins to chant, ancient and guttural. The candles flare up, shadows dancing. A surge of energy fills the space, the stench of ozone overwhelming.
When he finishes, a shimmering portal has appeared before us. Framed by silver, the interior glows a dull gold. "It will only allow two at a time. Ana, Lily, you first. Go now," he says.
Lily squeezes my hand, her eyes bright with fear and determination. I squeeze back. Together, we step through the portal, penetrating its gold interior.
It’s a large room, like any other in the castle, though dim. I smell rotting flesh, blood, even though the room is largely empty.
We step in and the portal closes behind us.
Here we go.
Shadows flicker and dance across the walls, but they are my familiars now.
Mortis stands in the center of the room, emerald robes turned black flowing around her now lean frame. She is so consumed in shadow that any shred of humanity has been stripped away. Her skin is blackened, only the whites of her eyes, wild, visible in the dim. There’s madness within them.
"My darling Ana, and a friend, I see." Even her voice is wrong, like multiple people speaking at once. “How nice of you to join us."
Only now I see something on the wall. Or rather, someone. It’s Cassandra, chained there naked, her body covered in cuts and bruises. Her eyes meet mine, glassy with pain. More pain for Mortis to feed on, no doubt.
What’s it been? Five minutes? And Mortis has done this much damage?
The Headmistress laughs, seeing my reaction. “I thought you’d enjoy that. I hear you two have had your…difficulties.”
I steel myself. "Let her go, you sick bitch."
I lunge toward the Headmistress, determined to end this quickly, but shadows erupt from the ground, wrapping around my body and pinning my arms to my sides. I struggle against their embrace, pulse racing.
The shadows within me fight back, dark eels twisting and turning inside me.
Those whites glow with malice as Mortis comes forward. “My mother and her mother before, rest their souls, they wanted this, you know. My mother and I, we worked for it, together. When she knew she wasn’t going to make it, she passed it onto me, this legacy. And cancer?” she laughs. “Can you believe it? One of the most powerful sorceresses to ever live and she’s taken by fucking cancer?” The Headmistress shakes her head. “But it’s time to eliminate a cancer of a different type. It’s time we moved beyond the shadows, showed the greater world our strength.”
It's official. She’s lost it. This woman is out of her fucking mind.
Whatever bonds are holding me are released. I let my limbs go loose.
Cloaked figures emerge from the darkness at the back of the room—shadow minions, summoned from the depths of darkness itself. Tendrils of black mist cling to their forms, seeping across the floor toward us. The air grows cold and heavy, saturated and thick with evil. I feel it in the back of my throat, the smog and tar of it.
I hear Lily swallow next to me.
There’s a snap of air as the portal reopens behind us. I turn to see Damien and Ava step through.
Lily's hand reaches out and tightens around mine. I had almost forgotten she was there. We stand firm, shoulder to shoulder with the others. Ava lifts her wand, magic sparking at the tip, while Darkwood materializes a curved dagger, the obsidian blade etched with ancient runes. I remember this dagger from my time with the guillotine. I remember the kiss of it against my sex.
"So it’s a party," Mortis rasps. “Very well.”
The Professor's eyes narrow. "We’re not going to make this easy, Isadora.”
“No, Damien,” she says, “I don’t imagine you will.”
Mortis spreads his arms, and the shadows stir. "Come, then. Face me. Let’s see what you have learned.”
The minions surge forward with an unearthly shriek, tendrils of black mist lashing toward us. Magic flares as Ava hurls a blast of light, dispelling the initial rush of shadows, but more take their place. The Professor is a flurry of motion, dagger flashing, as the minions descend upon us.
Black shadows and bright spells collide. I blast a surge of Luminara Ruptura at the nearest wraith, dissipating its smoky form.
Beside me, Darkwood hurls a writhing rope of shadows at a group of Mortis's acolytes. They scream as the dark tendrils ensnare them, siphoning their life away.
This is the most forbidden kind of magic. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel some thrill seeing it used for real, a hunger awakening I've only ever felt in Darkwood's presence, but this is life and death, and I’d rather not end up on a slab tonight.
I steal a glance at him. His eyes glow with feral intensity, features taut and predatory. In this moment he is the embodiment of shadow itself—beautiful and terrible.
Our gazes meet for a heartbeat. A silent understanding passes between us.
I remember the final trial on the rooftop. Perhaps we can do this, if I can channel that kind of raw, immense power.
Umbrarum Tegumen does away with the next, faltering on the shadow after it and forcing me to use Bomardeum Prismatis to buy us some time.
But these minions are coming thick and fast. They’re like a storm of locusts—unrelenting and numerous, trying to defeat us with sheer numbers and speed.
Enough holding back.
I reach into the shadows and brace.
Lily screams somewhere to my left, blood erupting from her arm, but I can’t stop.
I throw myself into the fray with renewed vigor, dark pulses of magic bursting from my outstretched hands. The shadows bend to my will, making short work of the acolytes.
All the while, Damien fights at my side. Our powers feed into each other, an endless feedback loop of shadow and light.
I crave more. More power, more intensity...more of him. I step closer, heartbeat quickening as his eyes lock onto mine, dark and fathomless.
Lily whirls past holding her injured arm with one hand, hurling a blast of flame at two wraiths swooping down from above. "Ana. Behind you!"
I spin, deflecting a curse back at the warlock who cast it, because these aren’t just shadows anymore.
A scream rends the air as Cassandra disappears under a swarm of shades. I sprint to her side, unleashing a blast of Umbrarum Tegumen to scatter them and using another charm to free her from the wall.
She slumps to the ground on her knees and whimpers, her hair cascading down her face and blocking her features from view.
“Get up!” I scream. “Fucking fight!”
She nods and stands, bringing both hands together and summoning a ball of light.
It’s only now I can see the true horrors of what Mortis did to her, the cuts that hash almost her entire body.
I don’t know if this is forgiveness, or understanding, but fight she does.
The combat escalates, Shadowcraft and primal chaos magic burning the air itself, an entire wall lit in flame as Ava forces another horde back.
A hulking berserker charges at me, axe raised. I fling a lance of shadow, piercing his chest—but too late. The axe slashes down, biting deep into my shoulder. I scream, staggering back as blood gushes from the wound around my fingers.
The berserker bellows in triumph, preparing to strike again—when Darkwood descends like a vengeful angel, rage etched into every line of his face.
"You dare harm what is mine?" His eyes blaze emerald fire as he gestures, jagged spikes of ice erupt from the ground to impale the berserker. A strangled cry, and the beast expires in a burst of gore and shadow.
Darkwood rushes to my side, clutching my hand over the wound. "Ana, look at me." His touch ignites a flare of healing magic, the worst of the pain fading.
Gritting my teeth, I nod. "I'm alright. Let me fight."
"Not like this. You're in no shape—"
"We have no choice!" I insist. "If we falter now, all is lost. You said it yourself."
He hesitates, jaw clenching, before dipping his head. "So be it. But I swear, if you suffer more harm..." He ceases talking altogether, before letting off a razor-edged growl.
I squeeze his hand, refusing to back down. "Then end this."
Darkwood's gaze hardens to flint. He pulls me close, kissing me fiercely. A surge of power floods my veins—his power, raw and primal and mine to wield.
When he releases me, I'm trembling—not from pain or fear, but from the dark deluge of magic coursing through me, awakening a hunger that gnaws at the very edges of my control.
I have seen Death. I have stared it in the face.
This is nothing.
I throw back my head and laugh, the sound edged with madness. Shadows gather and twist around me, coalescing into a cloak of living night.
"Hey, Mortis,” I yell.
With a slash of my hand, I hurl a spear of solid shadow. It punches through her defenses, leaving a jagged hole in her chest—but still she stands, pale eyes aglow.
"Impressive," she rasps. "But not enough."
She flings a counter-lance of sickly green at me. I deflect it and return a blast of searing night, striking her somewhere in the upper chest.
It pins her back, but again, it’s not enough.
"Had enough yet?" I taunt, advancing. Another spear, my shadow-shield breaking.
"Meddling bitch," she staggers, clutching at her chest and eyes dripping with rage. "You will not best me. I am eternal, I—"
I’m close enough now to scent the rot, to see the way her skin is cracked and mottled.
"You are nothing."
A spike of shadow materializes in my grip. I tighten my fingers around it and drive that fucker right through her black heart.
For a moment Mortis stands transfixed, mouth gaping. The shadows, the creatures she called…they evaporate around us.
I grit my teeth and shove the stake deeper, hitting bone.
But still those eyes flicker with life. She starts to laugh, slow at first and then building as the shadow I drove into her is consumed by the hole in her chest.
She shakes her head, coming forward and lifting her hand.
At once, I’m petrified, turned to stone and completely powerless before her.
I should be able to get out of this, but her power is too great even for me.
“Ana!” the Professor shouts.
But not before the Headmistress places her hand around my neck, lifting me from the floor. “And to think, all that fucking around with dear Damien and you’re still going to die.”
Her other hand goes back, shadows pulling around it.
This is it, I think to myself.
This is where I die.
There’s a snarl on that ashen face before me, the shadow lance rushing through the air towards my abdomen.
Something crashes into me hard from the side, enough to break me from Mortis’s grip.
I’m thrown clear, rolling sideways on the floor, and coming right just to see the shadow lance pierce through the back of Damien’s body, it’s tip ruby and wet with gore.
Oh, God, no.
I scream internally as Mortis lifts the Professor aloft and tosses him aside, his body thumping to the floor.
No.
He sacrificed himself.
For me.
The scream inside me grows louder. Deafening.
The rage builds and builds until it blots out all else. I concentrate it, focus it, and the petrification spell breaks, feeling returning to my body.
I rise from the floor on steady legs, concerned with only one purpose.
The lance is gone, but Mortis’s hand is still thick with the Professor’s blood.
I see him, lifeless, and the shadows that come to purpose inside me are of such undiluted power it’s as if I’m no longer human but energy itself. Whatever human limits I had before have been transcended.
Mortis is laughing. “Sorry about your bo—”
I don’t let her get the word out. I bring my hands up and scream, releasing everything I have.
Energy, pure and concentrated, runs from my core, through my arms, twin bolts of lightning that bore Mortis to the very back of the room.
The sound is incredible, the burn, but I keep at it, marching forward while the lightning continues, watching that bitch burn and flame by my hand.
I walk, foot after foot, relishing in this, the shadows strengthening my resolve until with a final, punctuated scream Mortis’s explodes—a bursting balloon of blackened sludge that fans out across the walls and floor.
An aftershock follows that throws me halfway back across the room.
I go tumbling head over ass, my fingers sparking out and the castle itself shaking on its foundations, but when I rise, when I look back to the spot where Mortis should be, there is nothing but that sickly splatter.
The fa?ade of the room peels away, a stomach-turning flicker of false reality, before the ballroom is restored, and the true horror of this night becomes apparent.