29. Bree
Bree
The clearing appears through the trees just as the sun dips below the horizon, washing orange and violet across the sky. Nyx is there, slumped against a fallen tree, one hand still loosely curled around a dagger.
I signal the others to hold back. Gray and Rhett left, Jace and Wes right, Theo and Seth behind. Thane and Stellan stay close, watching.
I let my Ether slip forward, silver threads drifting through the air. They curl around Nyx’s sleeping form—not binding, not threatening. Just holding.
Her eyes snap open.
She jerks upright, dagger flashing into her hand as her gaze darts wildly around the clearing. She sees us—all of us—surrounding her, and panic flares across her face.
“Don’t—” she starts, voice sharp with fear and fury.
The Ether tightens slightly. Not painful. Just… immovable.
She tries to lunge forward and can’t. Tries to shift left. Nothing. The realization hits, and her breathing goes shallow and fast.
“Let me go,” she hisses, eyes blazing.
“Not yet.” I keep my voice calm, steady. “You were looking for me. Here I am.”
She freezes. Her gaze snaps to mine, searching.
“So let’s talk,” I say.
For a long moment, she just stares at me. Then her shoulders drop, just slightly, and the fight bleeds out of her posture .
“Fine.” She lowers the dagger but doesn’t sheath it. “The Ashen Oath. It’s not working.”
I blink. “What do you mean it’s not working?”
“I mean exactly that.” Her voice is flat now, resigned. “I’ve watched hundreds go through successfully. But every time I try, it rejects me. The mirrors won’t take me. The bond won’t form. I’ve tried everything—every preparation, every ritual. Nothing changes.”
Behind me, Wes murmurs, “That shouldn’t be possible.”
“Unless something’s blocking it,” Theo adds quietly.
Thane’s voice is sharp. “Or she’s already fractured.”
Nyx’s eyes flash. “I’m not fractured. I’m stuck . And I need to know how to fix it.”
I study her, trying to piece it together. The Oath is supposed to work for anyone who approaches it with intent. If it’s not…
“I don’t know,” I admit.
Her expression hardens. “You’re the Source. You’re supposed to—”
“I know what I’m supposed to be,” I cut in. “But I don’t have all the answers. Not yet.”
The Ether hums around us, restless, like it’s searching for something too.
And then the air shifts.
A hum threads through the clearing—old, deep, familiar. The space between us thickens, growing dark, and I feel it before I see it.
The raven.
It slips through from the Void like water through a crack, black feathers shimmering violet in the fading light. It lands on my shoulder, solid and real. The Ether brightens; the air smells like rain before a storm.
Nyx’s dagger hits the ground.
“No.” Her voice breaks completely. She drops to her knees. “No, that’s—”
She reaches toward it, hands shaking, eyes wide and desperate. “I don’t— I don’t understand. Why do I—” She chokes on the words. “Please. Please .”
The raven tilts its head—calm, unbothered.
Nyx is unraveling in front of me, gasping like she can’t breathe. “I need it. I don’t know why but I need it .”
Every instinct in me wants to step forward. But I stay still. The Ether curls tighter, holding her without touching.
I take a slow breath. “Help us get into the sanctuary,” I say quietly. “Do that, and when this is over, we’ll help you finish the Oath. Whatever it takes.”
Her head lifts. Her eyes are wide, glassy with unshed tears. “You’d do that?”
“Yes.”
She studies me for a long moment, searching for the lie. She doesn’t find one.
Finally, she nods. “You’ll have your way in.”
The raven lets out a low, echoing croak. The sound settles into the clearing like a vow.
Nyx rises slowly, not meeting my eyes. She picks up her dagger and sheaths it, then steps closer to the edge of the Ether’s light.
“There are tunnels,” she says, voice steadier now. “Old ones, under the eastern wall. ”
“I know,” I say. “We already learned of those.”
Her jaw tightens. For a second I think she’s going to argue, but then she exhales. “There’s another way. Older. Goes deeper, comes up inside the sanctuary—not just the outer grounds. The Feeders don’t know about it because it’s sealed from their side. You just need to know where to look.”
I study her. “And you know where to look.”
“I do.”
“Good,” I say.
She glances at the raven one more time, something raw and broken flickering across her face. “Look for the patch of glowing daisies. That’s your way in.” Then she turns toward the trees. “After that, we’re even.”
“After that,” I answer, “we’ll see.”
The forest exhales around us. The others move in closer, forming up behind me as we follow Nyx into the darkness.
For the first time, she doesn’t look like an enemy.
Just another ghost trying to find her way home.