Chapter 27
I shushed the owl perched in the tree above me—it had hooted once, loud enough to give away my position. When it hooted again, I considered throwing a dagger to silence it, but I channeled my earth element to sense its intent instead.
The owl wasn’t alerting others. It was warning me.
I stepped back, shifting my weight and pressing against the tree’s trunk.
Then I leaned out slowly, scanning the area—searching for whatever, or whomever, the owl was warning me about.
The soft flutter of wings signaled my little protector’s departure, just as a faint crack of a branch reached my ears. Then another quiet step. Closer.
I moved fast—springing from behind the tree, flipping my dagger in my hand, ready to strike.
But I froze mid-throw.
Nash stood there, hands raised in silent surrender.
I exhaled a frustrated growl and sheathed the blade. “Are you crazy?” I hissed. “I could’ve killed you! You’re supposed to be with Rhodes.”
He blinked. “I’ve been searching for you. Have you seen any guards on this end?”
Tonight was the night we would break into Mageia.
It would’ve been so much easier before—back when I could slip through the halls pretending to be just another cadet. But those days were long gone. My face was far too recognizable now.
So the four of us devised a plan. One I hated to admit might actually work—without complications.
Scarlet would scout the castle’s northern exit, watching for gaps in the guard rotations during shift changes. Rhodes and Nash would take a position at the terrace Shayde likely used for entry—if Wylder was right, it was an old, abandoned part of the castle. Quiet. Forgotten. Perfect.
And me? I’d hover near the earth-wielders’ training grounds—the same place I used to blend in with the cadets. Familiar ground, but risky all the same.
Scarlet and I could communicate through the marekem, and she could pass messages to Wylder through their dragons. That left Nash as the only one without a direct line—which was exactly why he was paired with Rhodes.
If anything went wrong… we’d improvise. For now, all we could do was trust the plan—and each other.
“There’s no way we’re getting in through the earth-wielding exit,” I said, keeping my voice low. “Two guards at every door, and River sensed even more inside the walls. That’s why I’ve been lying low here, waiting for Scarlet’s update.”
“That’s why I’m here,” Nash replied. “Scarlet couldn’t reach you through the marekem, so she’s on her way to Rhodes.”
My brows furrowed. I reached out instinctively along the marekem. The connection still felt open, which made no sense as to why she couldn’t access it.
“The Sanctuary’s exit has doubled its guard,” Nash said, voice tight. “Which leaves us with one option.”
He looked at me, and I already knew what he was going to say.
“We have to go. Now.”
Nash and I moved silently through the forest, each step deliberate as River caught up behind us.
We didn’t speak—a single word could give us away if guards were posted nearby.
As we passed the edge of a corner turret, I slowed.
A figure stood in the window above, cloaked and still.
The soft glow of a candle lit their silhouette, but their face remained hidden in shadow.
Curiosity got the better of me—I stopped.
Nash halted a few steps ahead, turning to see what had caught my attention. The shadowed figure in the turret window was no longer still. Their free hand moved with sharp, frustrated gestures, as if arguing with someone just out of sight.
Who would be having a heated argument at this hour?
Nash grasped my elbow, urging me forward with a subtle nudge. Silently, we slipped back into motion, weaving through the trees as River prowled ahead—every muscle coiled with tension, senses sharp.
It didn’t take long to reach the rendezvous point, where Rhodes and Scarlet were already in position, watching the castle with focused intensity.
Rhodes pointed upward. “There—it’s hard to see from here, but a short stone wall encloses the terrace. Keeps it hidden unless you’re right on top of it.”
“And we are going to have to climb four stories? Without being seen?” my sister asked.
I gave the back of her neck a playful squeeze before stepping away from the forest line. “It’ll be easier with a ladder, sis.”
Dropping to one knee, I pressed my fingers into the soil and closed my eyes, reaching deep.
Power surged—raw, steady—from the earth element in my veins into the ground beneath me.
Then the Mareki’s magic answered, twining with mine and amplifying it.
The rush was pure euphoria. I hadn’t channeled this much magic in what felt like ages.
When I opened my eyes, the moss along the castle’s outer wall thickened and spread, shifting into braided vines.
More branches rose from the forest behind me, winding upward as if summoned by my heartbeat.
The living ladder took shape—roots and vines and magic—sturdy enough to carry all four of us, up and down, for the mission ahead.
The beauty of it stole my breath.
The earth element never failed to amaze me.
“Magnificent,” Scarlet breathed.
I glanced over my shoulder, smirking. “I know.”
We didn’t waste a second. One by one, we climbed. The living ladder held steady beneath us, vines flexing with each step. At the hidden terrace, we slipped over the low stone wall and melted into its shadows, hearts pounding, breath shallow.
“Ready?” I whispered.
They nodded.
Rhodes eased the door open carefully. To my surprise, it gave without resistance. Unlocked. Unguarded. Why?
We moved into a hallway thick with dust and age, neglect making it feel forgotten by time. At the end, we slipped through another door and emerged onto a spiral turret staircase, its stones cool beneath our feet.
Rhodes leaned toward my sister, towering as he gently tipped her chin up. “Be careful,” he whispered, his mismatched eyes locking onto hers. “If you sense anyone coming—run. Don’t put yourself at risk. Promise me.”
I puckered at Nash, mimicking Rhodes with exaggerated sweetness. “Promise me,” I whispered.
Nash snapped his teeth at the air and winked. “Careful, Fitzroy. I bite.”
While Scarlet and I searched the Eternal Tomb, Nash and Rhodes would comb through the late professor’s quarters and classrooms for anything out of place. Scarlet told us her friends couldn’t access the magically concealed corridor—that only she could.
Which meant we were betting I could, too.
We split from Nash and Rhodes, moving quickly but quietly down the stairs. Scarlet pulled her hood low to hide her crimson eyes, and I tugged my balaclava over my nose and mouth. Shadows clung to the hallway, and we kept to the cold stone as we moved.
At this hour, no cadets wandered the corridors, and we hadn’t encountered any guards—yet.
Scarlet motioned for me to cross the four-way junction before she darted across and vanished around the corner. I crept to the edge of the adjacent hall and peeked—then snapped back instantly.
A guard was heading straight toward us.
I pressed a finger to my temple, speaking through the marekem. “Guard coming our way.”
Scarlet’s eyes widened. She edged closer to the corner, just enough to peek.
“Get ready,” she replied.
With a flick of her finger, I heard the faint creak of a door down the hall. She’d used air to unlock it and push it open. I leaned just enough to see the guard pause, then turn on his heel toward the noise.
Without hesitation, I slipped across the intersection, breath held, feet silent. After a few more turns, Scarlet stopped before an inconspicuous bookshelf.
“This is the one I found Shayde lurking around.”
Her scarlet gaze locked with mine. She flinched—barely—but I felt it: that ripple of betrayal beneath the armor she wore so well.
Shayde might be compliant now, claiming loyalty after being caught working with the Grim, but I knew better.
No matter what he said, there would always be a fractured piece of my sister’s heart where the other Wylder once stood.
She schooled her features and turned away—then walked straight through the bookshelf and vanished.
What. In. The. Elements.
Before I could process it, her hand shot back through the spine of a book. She motioned for me to follow.
I rolled my shoulders and stepped forward, pressing my palm to the shelf. I had to push harder than expected before it finally slipped through the magical barrier.
Not wanting to be caught with one arm missing, I took a breath and leapt.
My forehead met resistance; my heart lurched. What if I get stuck? A heartbeat later, I landed on the other side, breathless but whole.
Scarlet was waiting, palm in the air, snickering.
“I’m sorry, I had to,” she whispered, covering her mouth to stifle the laugh.
I shot her a glare and strode past. Small flames sparked to life above us—Scarlet’s fire at work—casting a warm, flickering glow over the corridor.
The hallway was empty, save for a layer of dust thick enough to muffle our footsteps.
A single wooden plaque clung to the stone wall, and a rounded archway loomed at the far end.
Spiderwebs draped the ceiling like fragile curtains.
The barrier wasn’t just keeping intruders out; it seemed selective—perhaps only allowing the right people in.
I stepped closer to the plaque Scarlet had mentioned, the one that held the prophecy. Its wood was weathered but intact, the carved lettering still clear despite the dust of years.
I leaned in and read quietly to myself:
In the veiled echoes of Mareki’s grace,
When the past unfolds anew,
The truth will come face to face,
As scattered elements entwine in the few.
The splintered shards will become whole again,
Once the forgotten realm is due.
The key lies within the Crimson Wraith,
Whose flames will guide what shadows pursue.