3. Asha
Asha
Leith hits the floor before I can reach him.
Tobin catches his head with one hand and drops beside him. Silver magic flares across Leith’s chest, then shreds apart against black current pouring through his clothes.
“Hale, get the door,” Tobin orders.
Hale releases me and runs towards the archive entrance. Fire strikes the remaining ward bands. The door bucks but stays closed.
I kneel beside Leith. His skin has gone grey, and blood runs freely from his nose now. More seeps from one ear.
“This happened in the chamber,” I say. “The death-current started consuming him.”
“This is worse.” Tobin presses his palm over Leith’s sternum. Silver light drives into him, only for darkness to throw it back. “Something in that cabinet attached itself to his current.”
The chains begin moving again.
Every cabinet in the aisle rattles. Black glass brightens on either side of us, revealing faces trapped behind the surfaces. Their eyes fix on Leith.
“They want him,” I say.
Leith’s eyes open.
Black consumes the blue, spreading until nothing remains. His back arches off the floor, and a violent pulse throws Tobin sideways. I catch Tobin’s wrist before his skull meets a cabinet.
The glass behind us cracks.
A pale hand pushes through.
“Move!” I shout.
Tobin rolls to his knees and sends a silver strike into it. The hand breaks apart into strips of purple current that whip towards Leith and sink into his chest.
He convulses.
Hale slams both hands against the archive door. Hellfire erupts across the ward bands, burning white at the centre. “It’s locked from the other side.”
“Blackridge,” I snarl.
“No,” Tobin says. “The archive sealed itself when he left.”
“How do we open it?”
“I’m occupied.”
I grab Leith by the front of his shirt and slap him hard.
His head snaps to the side.
“Leith. Wake the fuck up.”
The black in his eyes shifts. For one second, blue breaks through, cold and furious.
“Run,” he forces out.
“Absolutely not.”
“They’re using me.”
Another cabinet opens. Faces press forwards beneath the glass, mouths open in silent pleas. Purple current spills through every gap and crawls across the floor towards him.
I clamp both hands over the current at his chest.
Pain blasts through my palms.
The marks beneath my skin ignite, gold cutting through purple. The current recoils from me, then surges back with enough force to drive my knees against the stone.
“Asha, let go,” Tobin snaps.
“No.”
“It’ll enter your current.”
“Then it’ll regret that decision.”
Leith’s hand closes around my wrist. His grip carries none of his usual control. Black power lashes over my skin, searching for a way in. “You don’t have the power to back that statement up.”
“Says who?” I grit out.
My marks flare brighter.
The archive screams.
Not the trapped memories. The entire fucking place.
Cabinets shudder against the walls. Glass cracks and chains tear loose and strike the floor. Purple lines rise beneath my knees, trying to connect Leith to every stolen memory stored here.
I understand what Yseld built.
“She’s trying to use him to release them,” I say.
Tobin gets back beside us, silver power gathering between his hands. “Why?”
“Because they aren’t dead. Leith can’t command them, but his current can rip them out of the records.”
“And put them where?” Hale shouts from the door.
“In him.”
Leith’s fingers crush my wrist. “Get away.”
“We aren’t leaving you,” I state and glance up at Tobin. “Get us out of here.”
“Working on it.” Tobin drives both hands into the purple lines.
Silver power floods the aisle and forces the current away from Leith by inches. The archive fights him at every point, feeding stolen memories through the floor faster than he can cut them off.
“Hale,” he says calmly. “Burn the gold band first.”
“There are three.”
“The one nearest the floor.”
Hale drops and hammers hellfire into the bottom ward band. Gold script flares across the door, resisting him until he drives one shoulder against the wood and pours more fire into it.
The heat reaches us from the other end of the aisle.
Leith convulses beneath my hands. More purple current forces its way into his chest, carrying voices with it.
“You’re seeing them,” Tobin says.
“So is he,” I state, unbothered by this stream of cruelty. “Focus on him, not me.”
Leith’s black eyes fix on me. His lips move, but several voices leave him at once.
“Release us.”
“No. Find another vessel.”
“Hale,” Tobin calls out.
“On it,” Hale growls, and in the next second, the entire door bursts off its hinges. He turns with that arrogant grin that makes me want him, and I return it.
“Stronger than you act,” I say, impressed. “What are you again?”
“A hellhound prince,” he says with a slow smile that makes my clit throb with longing.
“Prince?” I say with a smile as I help haul Leith to his feet. “Maybe you’ll do.”
“Maybe?” he says with a snort. “High standards.”
“Exceptionally high. Get moving.”
Leith’s weight drops against me. I stagger, but Hale reaches us before we hit the floor and takes most of the impact.
Purple current lashes from the open cabinets and strikes the stone near our boots.
Tobin throws up a silver barrier. “Go. I can hold this for twenty seconds.”
“Make it thirty,” Hale says.
“Make yourself useful and carry him faster.”
Hale hauls Leith over one shoulder. The movement would offend Leith deeply if he were conscious enough to object. His black eyes remain open, fixed on nothing, while stolen voices keep forcing their way through him.
I race to keep up beside him. Tobin retreats behind us, maintaining the barrier while purple current slams against it. Each impact throws silver sparks across the aisle.
We make it through the ruined doorway. Hale turns sideways to clear Leith’s body without smashing his head into the frame, which shows remarkable restraint. I follow, and Tobin throws himself through after me.
The archive doesn’t want to lose Leith.
Chains whip out from the cabinets. One catches my ankle before we hit the stairs, and I stumble.
Hale stops.
“Keep moving,” I snap.
He ignores me, shifts Leith’s weight and seizes the chain. Hellfire races along the links. The runes ignite one after another until the chain releases me and drops smoking to the floor.
“Your value keeps increasing.”
“Remember that next time you tell me to leave your room.”
I grin despite the urgency, and we take the steps up as quickly as we can as the door slams shut behind us. The impact shakes dust from the stairwell walls.
Leith’s body stiffens and then goes limp.
“He’s okay,” I say. Tobin opens up the door that leads back into the main SilverGate library.
We burst through, and Hale lowers Leith to the carpet. He is still bleeding, but it’s slower now until it stops.
Tobin drops beside him, and he places his hand on Leith’s forehead. Silver magic sinks into Leith’s skin. This time, the black current doesn’t attack it. It coils beneath his shirt, restless but contained.
Hale crouches beside me. “What got into him?”
“Memories,” Tobin answers. “Too many.”
Leith’s eyes remain black.
I touch his cheek. His skin feels far too cold. “They’re gone?”
“Yes,” Leith croaks.
A page turns somewhere nearby.
I spin towards the sound, expecting the book, Yseld, or another archive nightmare.
Verne stands at the end of the aisle in a dark robe, holding a book whose pages turn on their own. Her stare moves over Leith, the blood on my shirt, Hale’s scorched hands and Tobin kneeling with active magic.
Then she notices the hidden doorway hanging open behind us.
Her expression goes blank.
“Studying,” she says.
“Very intensely,” I reply.
Her eyes narrow. “You broke into the restricted archive.”
“Broke into feels unfair. The door let us in.”
“Blackridge knows,” Tobin interrupts before we end up in a circular conversation.
“Does he?” Verne asks, lips pursed.
“He does. Ask him.”
“What did you open down there?” she asks us instead.
“Nothing,” I say with a frown. “Why? Did something open?”
Verne gives me a narrow-eyed glare and then floats off. I watch her disappear between the shelves.
“That went well,” Hale says.
“She’s going to Blackridge,” Tobin replies.
“Good. He can explain.” I look down at Leith. “Can you stand?”
“Yes.”
He doesn’t move.
“Convincing.”
His eyes slowly clear. Black retreats from the centre, exposing a thin ring of blue. He draws in a careful breath, then shoves Tobin’s hand away and sits up.
The movement makes him sway.
I catch his shoulder. “Don’t be proud. It’s boring. You sure they’re gone?”
“Yes.” He gets to his feet, sways once, and then is steady. “This is starting to become a serious pain in my arse. Can we please find this fucking gate and open it already?” he grumbles.
“Oh, I’m with you on that one,” I say and look around. Everything seems different but the same. “Is it me, or has this place changed since we burst back through the door?”
“It’s you,” Tobin says, looking around. “What do you notice that’s different?”
I frown and shrug. “It’s like a layer of film over everything. Like I’m seeing it through a lens.”
“Maybe because you don’t belong here? You’re seeing it from a different view… one outside of reality,” Tobin states.
“Outside reality sounds dramatic, even for me.”
“Sight-current,” Leith says.
I turn to him. “I don’t have sight current.”
“You stand opposite Tobin in the ritual,” he replies. “Power and sight.”
I ignore him because I’ve never had the power of sight, but it makes sense on a level I don’t want to unpack just yet.
I focus on the strange layer covering the library.
It moves when I concentrate. Fine silver threads run through the shelves, the carpet, the walls.
Purple lines twist among them, hidden beneath ordinary wardwork.
Black marks stain the route Verne took, fading behind her.
“I can see magic,” I murmur.
Tobin steps into my path. “Which ones?”
“All of them, I think. Silver everywhere. Purple underneath. Black where Verne walked.”
“That won’t be her current,” Leith says. “She isn’t a reaper.”
“No. It’s attached to her book.”
The self-turning book.
I look towards the shelves where Verne disappeared. The black marks haven’t faded completely. They hang in the air beyond the aisle and lead away from the central desk.
Hale rises. “What’s in her book?”
“Something dead.”
“Fun,” Hale mutters and then catches himself when Leith gives him a vicious scowl. “Look,” he says, clearing his throat. “We aren’t chasing another fucking book around SilverGate. It’s late. We all need rest and more food before we make any more decisions today. Agreed?”
“Sort of,” I say. “Tomorrow, I have six days left to find my way out of here before Blackridge unleashes SilverGate on my arse.”
“Six days is plenty,” Hale says confidently. “On rest and a full stomach.”
“Fine,” I murmur. “Let’s go get more food and then sleep.”
He gives me a strange look. “That was too easy.”
“I’m a battle goddess infused with more chaos than this realm can handle, or at least my soul is. I know when to retreat.”
Tobin studies me. “Why do I find that more of a turn-on than a turn-off?”
“Because you are fucked in the head,” I state and turn on my heel before he can agree or object.
He does neither as we move down the stairs. The library has emptied while we were in the restricted section. Only a few students remain at the long study tables, and none of them look up as we pass. Black marks continue through the air ahead of me, tracing Verne’s route towards the central desk.
Her chair sits empty.
The marks end at the wall behind it.
I stop halfway to the door.
Tobin almost walks into me. “What?”
“Verne didn’t go to Blackridge.”
Hale glances at the empty desk. “How do you know?”
“Her book went through that wall. I assume she went with it.”
Leith comes down the last few steps and stares at the stone behind the desk.
“Is there another passage?”
“There’s always another passage in this fucking place.”
Tobin raises one hand. Silver current spreads across the wall in a controlled sweep, revealing nothing. “No active doorway.”
“It’s there. I can see the black trail entering the stone.”
Hale points towards the library entrance. “Food. Sleep. Remember?”
“I remember. I’m also standing in front of a hidden route taken by a librarian carrying something dead.”
“We can investigate it tomorrow.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Are you using common sense against me?”
“I’m trying it out.”
“It’s annoying.”
“Good. That means it’s working.”
I give the wall one final look. The black trail pulses once, then sinks deeper into the stone.
Not gone. Waiting.
“Tomorrow,” I tell it. “Try not to murder anyone important before then.”
A book drops from a nearby shelf.
Hale points at it. “That counts as an answer. We’re leaving.”
He ushers me towards the exit with one hand against my lower back. Tobin follows, and Leith brings up the rear as we head out into the cold night air.