33
The Widening Rift
Melody
The weeks rush by in a blur. When I’m not attending classes, I spend nearly all my time down in the archives—thanks to another very friendly reminder from Beeatrisa, who showed up here one morning and threatened to burn Blair’s belongings and clear out her room because she never shows up.
To Beeatrisa, that alone apparently counts as grounds for expulsion.
Blair does come here sometimes, but only at night—and only when I’m asleep, because our bond demands physical closeness.
I only ever know she’s been there because I can smell her, and the bond in me lies quieter by morning.
I don’t think she’s slept in her room once.
She only slips in to fetch her clothes. What she does all day, I’ve no idea.
When Beeatrisa demanded that Blair come speak with her—I, of course, being unable to reach her—things escalated quickly. I ended up agreeing to more archive shifts just to calm her down.
The upside is that I’ve grown better at translating ancient, forgotten languages, and Faye and I have become something close to friends—even if there’s a wariness about her, a distance that’s hard to breach.
Aris comes with me now, every single time, just to prevent another cookie-, bagel-, or whatever-induced panic attack.
He loves it down there, the little cave-dwelling monster.
But, gods forbid Beeatrisa ever finds out a demon has entered her most sacred halls.
The glamour of the archives seems unbothered by his presence, though—it even feeds him plates upon plates of food: roasted goat legs, pork knuckles, once even a calf’s head. Eeeek.
I’m still skipping classes with Riven, though, and Kyrith keeps torturing me, finding new, inventive ways to humiliate and hurt me every time.
But only after he dishes out magical, muscle-building cookies we all eat before he chases us around the campus for half an hour.
He then has us perform a series of lunges, sit-ups, and crunches that have me breaking down after a few attempts…
which only seems to delight him and inspire him to make us do more.
I always end up passed out in the temple.
I’m still too weak, though, getting weaker by the day.
Slower than in the human world, but I’m still not getting better—no matter how many delicious and enticing foods the campus is feeding us while we’re down here.
There’s always a slice of freshly baked cake, round chocolates filled with exotic flavors and rich creams, a steaming pot of tea, and then a healthy but fragrant dinner, if I happen to spend the evenings down here too.
Yet, no matter how much I eat, I get thinner and thinner.
Controlling—or, well, locking down—my magic is getting harder too. I know I’m a ticking time bomb. One day, I’m going to erupt like a volcano.
Faye and I sit hunched over some ancient texts about the nine hells—and how they’re whispered to be ruled by a dark, winged creature—when the ground suddenly starts shaking. Books fall as the endless shelves start to sway.
Faye jumps up, grabbing my hand, her eyes wide in shock and terror. We share a look and then bolt for the door. Other acolytes follow, and we all head for the stairs.
The corridors are a living chaos of falling stones, students who throw up shields with their magic, and too many people and panicked voices.
I pull Faye on, Aris on our tail, maneuvering between obstacles until we finally make it outside where all the students and professors have gathered.
Shay and Cassius run over to us. “What in the nine hells is happening?” Shay’s words come breathlessly. She’s clutching a book to her chest as we all stare at the university.
The ground is still shaking occasionally, as if there’s an enormous beast underneath, prowling, trying to break free of the confines of that space.
A huge filigree arch supporting the balcony suddenly gives way, crashing down. Black flames surge up and devour it mid-fall, sparing a cluster of professors below—and my breath catches painfully in my chest.
I don’t need to see him to know. That’s Riven’s magic.
“I don’t know. But don’t you feel it?” Ryder asks, pawing at all of us, his wolf instincts needing to make sure we’re alright. “There’s wild magic in the air.”
“Yeah, but what is it?” Cassius asks, his eyes darting anxiously down toward the city.
“I don’t know. My mom told me about a similar phenomenon the night the Dark Lord killed Gatilla. They say it’s when the balance of magic tips further and the dark rips between worlds grow bigger,” Shay says.
“What rips?” I ask, although I’ve heard about those before. Once. But honestly, hearing about them never felt real.
They all turn to me with frowns on their faces.
Faye still holds my fingers clasped tight, and I realize only then that she hasn’t been out in the open for a very long time.
I catch Ryder staring at her too. Her hood has slid slightly back, revealing her pale skin and startling blue eyes.
Also, the few patches of shimmering scales gracing her arms and neck.
But they’re not real scales, just the imprint of them—gold and deep blue.
Like a glimmering tattoo just under her pale skin.
Before I can warn him, Ryder has grabbed Faye and pulled her into a hug. He, too, seems surprised by his actions, even more than Faye herself.
“It will be alright. We’ll get through this,” Ryder soothes her. She stares up into his face, eyes wide, caught utterly still.
“What the hells, wolf? Keep your damn instincts on a leash,” Shay demands. “She’s an acolyte. No one touches an acolyte.”
“I can’t. She’s suffering—it’s my instinct,” Ryder says, not letting go of her. “And besides,” he adds, almost defiantly, “she’s still a scribe.”
Strangely enough, Faye doesn’t pull back, and I see in her aura that she indeed feels safe with him.
Wild magic weaves through the air, growing thicker by the second.
It feels as though the entire campus has been swallowed by a vast magical tsunami, the pressure of it bearing down on us as the ground continues to shake—trying to drown us where we stand.
The ground rumbles again, nearly dropping everyone to their knees.
Screams tear through the air as it warps beneath our feet, confusion and panic etched plainly on every face.
My head snaps up, and my eyes instinctively find Riven’s in the crowd of students, as if my body already knew exactly where he was.
He’s the only one who doesn’t look afraid.
No—if anything, he looks dangerous. His remarkable eyes are dark with determination as he pushes through the crowd, ignoring the bows and the barrage of questions thrown at him, his gaze locked unflinchingly on mine.
Once he reaches me, he ignores my friends entirely, grips my wrist, and pulls me into his arms as his wings snap into existence.
Without warning, he launches us into the air, holding me tight against his body.
I’m so stunned that I instinctively clamp my arms around him as he shifts his hold, carrying me so my head comes to rest against his shoulder.
“Hey! What are you doing? Put me down! My friends need me!”
“They’ll be fine,” he growls between clenched teeth.
“And I can’t leave you down there. I just—” His eyebrows pinch together.
“I can’t, so don’t argue with me over it for once, please.
Let me just take you to safety.” He sounds almost desperate, his eyes wide as they search mine, as if he wants to make sure I’m still breathing, and I relent a little.
“Melody!” Aris roars into my head a moment later.
A shadow falls and I spot him flying over us in his massive form. “It’s okay. Help the others, please!” I tell him.
He scoffs, puffing smoke, but rumbles his reluctant agreement when he spots me in Riven’s arms. I watch him veering off and plummeting into a sharp descent, back toward campus. My friends disperse to make room for him.
I tear my gaze away, knowing they are going to be safe with him, and look back at Riven as he carries us farther and farther away. “What happened?” The wind and chaos tear my voice from me, but he hears me anyway.
“A power shift. Magic has been freed, and the balance has been tipped further,” he explains, then throws up a black shield around us, and the magic no longer crashes over us but against the dome of flames.
When I look down again, I see professors and students have done the same. Colorful shields span everywhere over the campus.
“Why? How?”
Riven’s jaw is set, but he doesn’t say anything.
“Riven!” I demand.
Finally, his eyes slide back to me, burning with a lilac fire, his demonic wings beating hard against the onslaught of magic. “It’s going to be a problem. The rip between the worlds has torn wider. Monsters from the nine hells will come in more easily now.”
“Not exactly what I asked.”
“I don’t know what happened,” he admits eventually.
“But you have a theory,” I press.
His jaw works, but he doesn’t deny it.
“Riven.” I close my hands behind his head to get his attention.
It works, and when he looks at me now, his eyes deep and consuming, I realize how intimate this gesture is.
I clear my throat but don’t remove my hands.
My heart betrays me the moment he looks down at me. “Please tell me what’s going on.”
We’ve finally reached a flat plateau of a hill, and he lands gracefully, holding me a second longer than necessary before gently putting me down.
I stumble away, feeling suddenly very cold without his body pressing against mine.
He still looks at me with an intensity that makes my body flutter with all kinds of wrong emotions, given that we just escaped a hell of an earthquake.
And given that I’m still very furious at him.