31. Leith
Leith
“Oh, fuck about covers it. Move.”
We turn and run. The giant ball of silver and black hurtling towards us fills the width of the passage and gains speed with every rotation.
Hale grabs Asha around the waist and throws her over his shoulder without breaking stride.
“I can run!” she shouts.
“You drowned five minutes ago.”
“That doesn’t affect my legs!”
The stone ball strips carvings from the rock, and the purple fire dies under its weight. The corridor shakes hard enough to throw Tobin into me. I catch his shoulder, shove him upright, then glance back.
The thing is closer.
Silver bands cover its surface, separated by strips of black stone. Every turn brings another rune into view. They flare as they pass over the floor, feeding power into the trap.
“It’s drawing from the passage,” I say.
“Useful observation,” Tobin snaps. “Can you stop it?”
“Can you?”
“I asked first.”
Asha lifts her head over Hale’s shoulder. “Put me down, you enormous prick.”
“No.”
She drives an elbow into his back. He doesn’t react.
The corridor ahead divides into three routes.
“Left,” Asha orders.
“Why?” I ask.
“Always go left. Don’t you know anything?”
“Fair enough.”
We take the left route. The passage narrows further, and Hale has to turn sideways for two steps while carrying her. The delay costs us. A crash sounds at the junction as the ball hits the dividing wall.
Stone explodes through the passage.
The ball forces itself into the narrower passage. Black stone shears from its sides with a screech that sets my teeth on edge, but it keeps coming. The silver bands brighten as the passageway compresses around it.
“Faster,” I urge.
The route slopes down without warning. My boots lose purchase on the wet stone. I catch the wall, but Tobin slams into my back and sends both of us skidding. Hale stays upright through brute force, Asha still over his shoulder and swearing at a volume that should damage him more than her elbow did.
The ball strikes the narrowing walls behind us.
Silver fractures.
A section breaks free and shoots past my head, burying itself in the passage ahead. Power flickers across the embedded band. Tobin throws a burst of magic at it, and the silver erupts.
Purple fire spills from the damaged rune.
The passage floor splits.
“Jump,” I shout.
Hale launches over the opening with Asha still on his shoulder. Tobin clears it behind him. I push off as the crack tears wider beneath me and catch the far edge with both hands.
The ball slams into the broken section.
The floor collapses.
My grip slips as the entire passage bucks. Tobin drops to his knees and catches my forearm before I fall with the stone. Pain wrenches through my shoulder. Below me, purple fire floods a vertical shaft with enough light to reveal spikes at the bottom.
Naturally.
“Pull him up,” Asha snaps.
“I had planned to,” Tobin says, using his other hand to wrap a magic rope around my wrist.
I drive one boot against the wall and push while he hauls me over the edge. The moment I clear it, the ball crashes into the gap. Its weight carries it down. Silver bands scrape the sides of the shaft, throwing sparks and broken runes into the air.
It hits the spikes below.
The impact shakes the entire corridor.
Purple flame bursts up the shaft. Tobin grabs my shirt and drags me backwards before it reaches us. Heat rolls over the ledge, followed by a violent surge of magic that extinguishes every light in the passage.
Darkness consumes us.
Hale’s fire ignites a second later.
He has finally put Asha down. She stands beside him with one hand gripping his arm, soaked hair plastered to her face.
For several seconds, nobody speaks.
The fire in Hale’s palm catches on the wet walls and reveals fresh script where the darkness stripped away the purple light. Black marks cover the passage from floor to ceiling. They weren’t visible before.
Asha releases Hale and steps closer.
“Don’t touch anything,” all three of us say.
She turns slowly. “I’m going to touch everything out of spite.”
“You can do that after we establish whether the walls intend to kill us,” I reply.
“The walls have made their position clear.”
Tobin gets to his feet and brushes stone dust from his wet clothes. “That trap wasn’t designed to keep people out.”
I examine the shaft. Fragments of silver still burn below, embedded among the spikes. The ball has broken apart, but the magic inside it continues to glow.
“It herded us,” I say.
“Towards what?” Hale asks.
“That door,” I say, pointing at it behind him.
Hale turns.
A narrow door sits flush with the wall, covered in the same black marks as the passage. There’s no handle. No lock. Only a shallow impression at chest height, marked by a purple line.
Asha walks towards it.
I catch the back of her top before she gets close enough to make another reckless decision. “We just discussed touching things.”
“If this is a door, it leads somewhere. We can’t just ignore it and stand around in here for the rest of eternity.”
“She has a point,” Tobin says.
Asha pulls free and studies the door. The marks beneath her skin brighten in response. Gold and purple light spreads from her palm to her wrist, then stops.
Tobin comes to stand beside her. “It wants the key.”
“It has the key,” she mutters. “Apparently I’m wearing it.”
Hale’s fire burns higher as he studies the passage behind us. “If you’re opening it, just get on with it.”
I look back.
Silver fragments are crawling up the walls below. They move in short, violent jerks, dragging themselves free of the spikes before rising through the purple flames. The trap isn’t rebuilding the ball yet, but it has started reclaiming the pieces.
“Open it,” I say.
She places her hand on the door at chest height, and it swings open. Fresh air blasts in, and we move forward as one, out into the campus grounds on the North side near the ward line.
As soon as we’re clear, the door slams shut and vanishes into thin air, leaving no trace of anything but air behind it.
I stare at the space where we exited and sigh. “So that was all because?”
“It leads us here,” Asha says, her voice cracking slightly.
I turn to look at what she is staring at.
At the edge of the forest, beyond the last silver ward-post, stands Matron Yseld.
Not the portrait.
The woman herself.
She has the same navy cloak on, hood raised over grey hair. Her face carries far more detail than paint ever managed. Deep lines cut around her eyes. One hand rests on a black staff driven into the earth, while the other holds the book.
Purple and gold light bleeds between its closed pages.
“Well,” she says. “You took the violent route.”
Asha makes a broken sound and starts towards her.
Hale catches her wrist. “Wait.”
Yseld gives him a severe look. “The passage chose the test. I merely opened the end.”
“You drowned her,” Hale growls.
“No. SilverGate drowned her.” Her attention settles on Asha. “It has killed many who defy it. You survived because the death-bearer commanded its dead, the power-bearer restored your body, and the fire-bearer refused to release you.”
Her gaze lands on me. “Death-bearer. You heard them.”
I don’t need to ask who she means. The dead in the chamber still cling to my mind. Their panic. Their obedience. The instant they recognised my current and reached for me.
“They weren’t trying to kill me,” I say.
“No.”
Tobin’s silver eyes sharpen. “They were asking him to release them.”
Yseld nods once.
Hundreds of dead bound beneath SilverGate. They knew what I was before I understood why they reached for me.
Asha strains against Hale’s grip. “Give me the book.”
Yseld’s attention shifts to her. “You aren’t ready.”
“I’ve drowned, been chased through a corridor by a giant ball, and discovered someone carved my fucking reign into the walls under this academy. My readiness isn’t up for debate.”
“The body you wear can’t contain the ritual.”
The words cut through the grounds.
Asha stops pulling against Hale.
Tobin moves closer to her at once, but he doesn’t touch her. “What happens if she attempts it?”
Yseld looks towards the academy. Silver towers rise behind us, their windows reflecting the dim morning sky. From here, the place seems peaceful. It’s a convincing lie.
“She opens the gate,” Yseld says. “Then she dies.”
Hale’s fingers tighten around Asha’s wrist. “Not happening.”
Yseld drives the end of her staff deeper into the ground. A pulse spreads through the earth, black enough that I feel it in my bones. The forest goes quiet.
“This isn’t prophecy,” she says. “It’s anatomy.”
I step closer to Yseld. “Then tell us how to make this body survive.”
“That isn’t an option.”
“Then how do we get her old body back?”
Asha hisses. It’s pained and it tears through me, but we need answers.
Yseld’s expression doesn’t change. “You don’t.”
Asha goes perfectly still.
The words land with more force than the trap below us.
Hale releases her wrist only to move in front of her, blocking Yseld from view. Fire gathers over his hands. “Try that answer again.”
“Her body is trapped in StormGate. She cannot get to StormGate without it.”
“Try me,” Asha growls.
“The ritual will kill you.”
“I’m willing to take a chance that it won’t. My magic wants me back. You know it, Blackridge knows it. It’s why you are out of your painting, and he’s trying to hide you.”
She inclines her head, as if she agrees.
“We can do this,” I say to Yseld. “But we need to know the ritual.”
“Power, Death, Fire and Sight.” She takes a step back and disappears much like the door did.
“That wasn’t helpful,” Asha says.
“Actually, it was. She said the ritual will kill you. But you can’t kill what is already dead,” I say.
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, we fake your death enough to convince the ritual not to kill you.”
She stares at me as if I’ve grown another head, but I’m not wrong, and we all know it.