Chapter 28
Without thinking, I unsheathed two daggers in one smooth motion. Before I could speak, the two cloaked figures lunged. I sidestepped one, knocking them off balance, but the second shoved me back. Her hood slipped.
Tatum Sinclair. One of Scarlet’s roommates.
She shot me a glare before brushing past and throwing her arms around Scarlet.
The second figure pulled back their hood too—Cleo.
The two of them swarmed my sister, wrapping her in a tight embrace.
Scarlet froze for a beat, her arms hovering before slowly wrapping around them.
Her eyes glossed over, a storm of questions brewing as she tried to understand how they’d found us.
“Tatum? Cleo?” her voice cracked. “What—how?”
Tatum pulled back just enough to meet her gaze. “Professor Wylder found us.” She glanced over her shoulder at Rhodes and winked.
“We brought you these,” Cleo said, pulling out a matching set of daggers.
The dark steel blades gleamed even in the dim hallway light. Intricate runes ran down the center of each blade, etched with expert precision. At the pommels, small gems—a soft sage green—nestled in the metal, matching the dyed leather wrapping the handles.
Scarlet’s eyes widened. Her hands trembled as she took the weapons from Cleo. “How did you—why would you?” she stammered.
“We found them stashed in your drawer after the ball and figured they were hidden for a reason,” Tatum said, trailing off. “After the news of…” She hesitated. “We assumed the leadership shouldn’t find them. So we kept them safe for you.”
My sister sniffled, slid the daggers into their sheaths, then looked at Rhodes, who watched with a grin playing on his face.
The sound of pounding footsteps echoed around the corner.
“We can talk later—we need to go now!” Rhodes snapped.
We took off in the opposite direction from the incoming guards. This wasn’t the way we’d come in, so we’d need an alternate route back to the abandoned terrace.
“You didn’t think you’d leave without me, did ya?” a voice called from behind.
Rhodes skidded to a stop and spun around. Scarlet and her friends followed.
They were going to get us fucking killed.
I turned just in time to see the taller figure toss back his hood with a cocky grin.
“Davis!” Scarlet gasped, launching into his arms.
“And me, Thorne,” added the second figure, pulling down her hood to reveal a cascade of red hair and pale skin.
Scarlet recoiled, throwing a hand between them. “No. No fucking way. You are not coming with us.”
Davis held up his hands. “I tried, Scar. She wouldn’t leave me alone. Yell at us later—we’ve got to move. Guards sweep these halls all night. How did you even manage to sneak in?”
“Later,” Rhodes said sharply, and we broke into a sprint once more.
We moved quickly but quietly through the stone corridors, our steps sharp and calculated as we navigated the twisting halls.
I had snuck into Mageia more times than I could count and had the layout memorized, but now we were moving through parts of the castle I’d never seen.
Rhodes ran ahead, and his leather pack looked fuller than before we climbed in, rattling with every step.
Without pausing, he swung it off his back and cradled it in one arm, adjusting his grip as the contents clinked and shifted.
The eight of us raced down a twisting stairwell when Scarlet suddenly skidded to a stop.
“Wait. Wait, wait, wait!” She threw up her hands, chest heaving as she turned to me, eyes sharp. “I know what the Key is.” Her gaze locked on mine. “Shift through the marekem. Find what Professor Hogboom had clenched in his fist the last time I saw him alive.”
I hesitated as murmurs rose around us. Closing my eyes, I curled my fists and anchored myself in the marekem.
I focused on Scarlet’s thoughts of Hogboom—before her memories twisted into fear after he was pronounced murdered. I stepped further back until I found myself in an auditorium-like classroom. But the professor didn’t have anything in his grasp, so I pushed myself forward just a little more.
I landed in the same classroom, but at a different time.
I studied my sister, who looked the same but different in so many ways from the earlier memory.
Before, she’d slouched low in her seat, arms crossed like armor, eyes distant—barely present.
Her expression was dull, her eyes lifeless.
She seemed like she was just managing to make it through each day alive.
But now, in this newer memory, there was more light in her.
She sat upright in her chair, focused—locked in on who I assumed was Professor Hogboom standing behind me.
Her shoulders no longer sagged beneath the weight of uncertainty.
They were squared with quiet strength, like she was finally claiming that she belonged here.
Delaney Salvitto lounged beside her, twirling a loose curl, whispering something to the cadet on her other side, her smile lazy and amused.
I turned around to find Professor Hogboom leaning over a wooden podium, his expression somber as his gaze swept across the cadets.
My eyes dropped to the surface of the podium—an aged, leather-bound tome rested beneath his hands, dust dancing in the air around it.
I moved closer, uncertain how long this memory would hold, and studied the book.
It was identical to the one that had lit up with the Mareki’s presence in the tomb—blank cover, weathered edges, the same hue and age as the tome Scarlet had pulled from her pack.
I reached out, fingers brushing the air above its surface, I went to lift the cover—when suddenly, Hogboom’s eyes snapped to mine and the memory version of his gaze burned through me.
A jolt tore me from the marekem. I gasped, chest heaving, my heart thundering louder than when we had been sprinting through the halls. Beads of sweat slid down my temples, and I quickly wiped them away with the sleeve of my leather jacket.
The whispers around me fell silent, every pair of eyes fixed on me, waiting. Scarlet gripped the strap of her pack tighter, her knuckles white. I lowered my chin, the truth sitting heavy on my tongue.
“It’s a book,” I said, certain.
“We have to find it,” Scarlet replied without hesitation. “This may be our only chance.”
“What book?” Rhodes asked.
“Professor Hogboom was late the last time I saw him,” Scarlet said between breaths.
“Something was off. Captain Thorne stormed in, interrupted his lecture, whispered something in his ear—and whatever it was, it was urgent enough for Hogboom to dismiss class early. But that day, he had an old-looking tome in his hands. It looked like this”—she yanked the book from her pack and flipped it open—“only thicker. Same leather cover.”
“It’s blank?” Nash squinted.
Confused, I glanced at him, then leaned over Scarlet’s shoulder, scanning pages filled with dense handwriting. “What do you mean?”
Nash folded his arms. “The pages. They’re empty. Wylder, take a look.”
Rhodes took the tome from Scarlet and flipped through it slowly. He frowned, shook his head, and passed it down the line. One by one, each of them confirmed the same thing.
Blank.
Scarlet and I locked eyes.
She stepped forward, gaze firm as it swept the group. “That confirms it. We can explain later, but that book is another missing piece of the Mareki’s Key. We need it.”
Nash dragged a hand through his unruly brown hair and let out a sharp sigh. “There’s no way we’re sneaking into his quarters. Our best shot is his office… but it’s risky. If we get caught—”
“Then we won’t get caught,” I snapped.
Davis took the lead, climbing the stairs two at a time. “Come on,” he called over his shoulder. “We’ve got to move fast.”
He led us up, boots light on stone. At the top, we emerged into a quiet hallway lined with cadet dorms. Davis skidded to a halt beside a tall tapestry that stretched floor to ceiling, deep orange fabric embroidered with Mageia’s sigil.
He yanked back a corner and pressed his shoulder into the stone wall behind it. With a low groan, the wall shifted inward, revealing a narrow, dim corridor cloaked in shadows.
“This way,” he whispered, already slipping through the opening.
One by one, the others filed in. I lingered for a moment, stunned. I’d explored every inch of this castle—or so I thought. How many of these hidden passages had I missed?
I ducked in behind the redhead and pulled the door shut. The air was stale with years of dust, and the walls pressed in on either side. We moved fast, our footsteps soft against the stone as the floor sloped downward, then rose again. The tunnel twisted left and right.
“Not far now,” Davis murmured. “Two more turns and we’ll come out behind the portrait in the administrative wing.”
I narrowed my eyes. “And how exactly do you know about these secret passages, cadet?”
He clicked his tongue; the sound echoed. “You’d be surprised how resourceful I am.”
“No, really, Davis. How?” Rhodes’s voice was low and sharp behind him.
Davis dropped his voice to a murmur. “First year, drunk on ale, leaned against the wrong tapestry. Found myself in here and… well, let’s just say I started using them to avoid being late to class.”
Rhodes scoffed under his breath but didn’t press further.
The tunnel narrowed as we approached the end. A thin line of light traced the edge of a seam ahead—where stone gave way to something more. Davis slowed and held a finger to his lips before pressing his palm against the wall.
With a soft scrape, a hidden panel swung inward, revealing a silent corridor lined with framed portraits. The administrative wing.
We filed out quickly, and Davis nodded down the hall. “His office is three doors down on the right. Keep quiet.”
We crept along the corridor, every click of our boots jarring my nerves. At Hogboom’s door, Rhodes stepped forward and tested the handle—it didn’t budge. Locked.
I stepped in and shouldered him aside. “Move.”