23. Syneca #2
Ink swirled across the first page, forming an image.
Me.
Standing in the Gilded Pestle, holding this exact book. A perfectly drawn reflection of this moment.
I turned my head. The ink moved with me, reforming to match my new position.
I flipped to another page. The same thing happened. The ink responded to my movements like it was watching me, recording me, showing me back to myself.
Why would Eda Mire want me to have this?
My chest ached. She’d always cared in her own distant way. Never showing emotion. Never offering comfort when I needed it. But she’d been there. Always so constant. And I’d never known what she really was. Never had the chance to save her from Vitoria’s blade.
Vitoria’s laugh echoed in my mind, sharp and cruel.
I didn’t want to be here anymore. Didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to find a dragon, be a pawn, fight back when the only thing I felt like doing was hiding. I’d been hiding my whole life. I was good at that part. This, this was drowning.
I turned toward the door.
But Silas was there.
Our eyes met and he didn’t say anything. Didn’t ask if I was okay or tell me to be strong or offer empty platitudes. He just opened his arms.
I stepped into them without hesitation.
He pulled me close, solid and warm and unwavering.
The same way he’d comforted me the day we found Eda Mire’s body.
The same way he’d been there every time I’d needed someone to lean on, even when I didn’t ask.
Even when I pushed him away. Silas was an asshole.
He did things his own way and didn’t apologize for them. But he never fucking wavered.
I pressed my face against his chest and let myself have this. Just for a moment.
He didn’t pull away until I did. Until I was steady enough to keep going.
“Let the others in,” I said quietly. “I need to find the scales.”
He nodded and stepped back, giving me space. I set the book down and headed for the back shelves, reaching through thick cobwebs for a jar I’d seen a hundred times and never questioned.
Behind me, I heard the door open wider before footsteps and the voices of the others as they filled the room. I grabbed the jar and turned back toward the counter, holding it up to the light. “Found the scales.”
Pip flew close, her tiny face scrunched in concentration as she peered into the glass. “Are they really small? Because I can’t see them.”
I blinked, staring into the jar filled to the brim with red dragon scales. “What do you mean you can’t see them?”
“I can’t see them either,” Dez added, moving closer.
I looked at Calder. He shook his head.
Something occurred to me as I pointed across the room at a jar filled with glowing blue liquid. “Pip, what’s in that jar?”
She squinted. “I... I don’t know. It looks empty?”
The entire shop was masked.
I turned to Calder, my mind already racing. “Tell me what you see when you look around.”
He frowned, glancing at the shelves. “It’s the same as it’s always been. Empty jars. Blank shelves. Drawers with nothing in them.” He reached for a ledger from a nearby stack and flipped it open. “A few books with blank pages.”
I was going to need a deep pull of magic for what I was about to do.
I stepped into the center of the room and closed my eyes, reaching for the power that lived in my bones.
“Aperio.”
Silver light erupted beneath my feet, racing outward in thin, blazing lines. The floor shook as magic seeped deep, connecting symbols in the language the Furies had brought to this world.
When the light faded, a masterwork spell circle had carved itself into the floorboards.
“Holy shit,” Ramiel whispered, staring slack-jawed at the floor.
“Everyone into the circle,” I said, finally feeling like I was doing something I had control over.
Pip shot forward with a delighted squeal. Silas moved to my side instantly. Dez and Ramiel hung back, eyeing the glowing symbols with obvious wariness.
“Now,” I added.
They stepped in, taking Calder’s sides.
I closed my eyes again, grounding myself in Silas’s bond, the true point of a familiar, and for once, my own fire.
“Revelius.”
The spell shot outward like a shockwave.
Everyone gasped.
To them, the shop likely transformed. Jars that had appeared empty now overflowed with ingredients, dried herbs, shimmering powders, liquids that glowed in impossible colors.
Shelves they’d thought were bare, bowed under the weight of books and cauldrons and tools I recognized from years of watching Eda Mire work.
Drawers opened slightly, revealing contents that had apparently been hidden moments before.
Bone runes to shift a memory, bloodstones to trap a scream. Protection charms and healing salves…
But my eyes caught on the book I’d left on the counter.
The cover was on fire.
No one else seemed to notice, too distracted by the reveal happening around them. I crossed to it quickly, watching as the flames died down. The final embers raced around the edges, revealing a beautifully monogrammed S surrounding the notch where the runestone should have been.
I picked up the book and thumbed through the pages, hoping something new would be revealed. But it was still just the swirling magical ink, still just my own face staring back at me. I closed it and tucked it into my robes.
“By the hells,” Dez breathed, staring at a jar filled with something that pulsed with its own heartbeat. He reached for it.
Ramiel smacked his hand away. “Don’t touch things in a dead Fury’s apothecary unless you want to end up dead yourself.”
“This place is incredible,” Calder said quietly, already back at the ledgers. “I never knew.” He flipped through pages covered in Eda Mire’s beautiful handwriting, his expression intent.
Pip held up the jar of dragon scales, studying them in the light. She tilted the jar, examining it from different angles. “What do these numbers mean?”
I frowned. “What numbers?”
She pointed at letters etched into the glass. “These.”
My heart stopped.
Those weren’t just random markings. They were part of a filing system I knew by heart. One I’d spent far too much time hating. I looked up at Calder, who’d just torn a page from one of the ledgers and slipped it into his pocket. Everything clicked into place.
I leaned close to Pip, keeping my voice low. “Hide the jar in your buns.”
“Why?”
My eyes didn’t leave Calder’s back as he continued searching through the books.
“Because we’re going to have to break into the Chancellery. Again.”