Chapter 2 #2
Settled in the Great Hall with my coffee, I watched Theo’s face scrunch in disgust as he slid onto the bench across from me.
The others followed, arranging themselves around the table for breakfast. I wrapped my hands around the warm mug and leaned forward.
“So, are we going to talk about the tiny creature things darting between trees in the grove?”
I couldn’t let it go. There was something weird about this place and I was going to get to the bottom of it. Dominion never had this problem.
Rowan chuckled. “Had a run-in with a pixie, ay?”
“Pixies? Like... actual pixies?”
“The grove is full of them,” Phoenix said, buttering his toast. “They’re mostly harmless unless you’ve got something shiny.”
“They’re little thieves,” Jamie added. “One took my watch last year.”
“Fantastic,” I muttered. “Yet another thing they left out in the transfer papers.”
Lucas leaned in. “This place is ancient. Centuries older than Dominion. The foundations were laid directly over the site of the First Crossing, so naturally, our magic saturates everything. It settled into the earth for miles surrounding the campus.” He tapped his fingers on the wooden table, leaving faint traces of blue light where they touched.
“It attracts all manner of creatures you won’t find back in America unless you’re deep in the wilderness where humans haven’t already ruined habitats.
So be careful wandering off alone. Those pixies?
” He glanced toward the window. “They’re the least of your concerns. ”
I stared at Lucas, the mug of coffee pausing halfway to my lips. I was suddenly very interested in this place. Pixies and magical creatures were not things I was used to dealing with back home.
I knew there were things in this world that humans considered mythology.
I had a vague idea of which legends and myths were actually rooted in reality, but I never thought I would see them myself.
Dominion had been sterilized, built like a fortress to keep things out.
Imperium, it seemed, had simply grown out of the magic itself, inviting the hidden world to take up residence in its shadows.
The fact that Imperium was built directly over the site of the First Crossing from our home worlds was complete news to me. Something odd and heavy settled deep in my chest. I lowered my mug to the table, my fingers suddenly numb.
This was it. This was the exact site of my ancestor’s final sacrifice.
The original Ophis had been the one to create the massive portal that allowed the Aelari to cross over into this world.
And when the horde of bane had threatened to follow them through, threatening to consume this new, untouched earth, he had made the ultimate choice.
He’d gone back through the portal, stepping into the void of space, and sealed it from the other side.
He fended off the horde alone, giving the rest of the Zodiacs a chance to get away, a chance to survive and build the very institution I was sitting in today.
“You okay, Jupiter?” Rowan asked. “You went a bit pale there.”
“I’m fine,” I murmured, clearing my throat and shaking the dazed look out of my eyes. “I just... I didn’t realize. That means the original portal was opened right here. Where we’re sitting.”
Theo nodded. “Beneath us, actually. Deep in the subterranean levels of the academy. The area is completely sealed off.”
My ancestor had died down there. Or, at least, he’d been lost to the bane down there. And now I was sleeping directly above his grave.
‘Blood calls to blood,’ Noodle hissed in my mind, his sleek gray head poking out from the collar of my uniform shirt. ‘The earth here remembers your magic. It sings with it.’
“Right,” I breathed out, forcing myself to take a sip of the bitter coffee. “Pixies, ancient sacrificial grounds, sealed portals. Got it.”
Jamie let out a low chuckle, his scarred face shifting into a genuine, albeit brief, smile. “No pressure.”
“Don’t let it overwhelm you,” Lucas said. “You aren’t your ancestor. You don’t have to sacrifice yourself for anyone. Not anymore.”
The words hit entirely too close to home, striking the injured, battered parts of my soul that still ached for the Nightfall Shield.
I’d already sacrificed my dignity, my heart, and my sanity for four men who had thrown it all away.
Lucas’s words were a blistering reminder of why I crossed an ocean.
“I won’t,” I promised, my resolve hardening. “I’m done bleeding for people.”
An unspoken agreement seemed to pass around the Stardust table. They didn’t push, didn’t pry into the obvious double meaning of my words. Instead, Rowan reached over and stole a piece of my toast.
“Good. Because we have Portal Theory with Professor Crespin in twenty minutes, and if you bleed in his classroom, he’ll probably dock you points for making a mess.”
I laughed. “Lead the way, then.”
The journey to the classroom took us deeper into the older sections of the main building. The corridors here were narrower, the stone walls damp and lined with framed paintings that looked like they would crumble to dust if touched.
When we entered the classroom, it was designed like a steep amphitheater, looking down into a circular pit in the center where Professor Crespin—a severe-looking man with stark white hair and pitch-black eyes—was already arranging strange metal contraptions.
I took a seat between Jamie and Theo near the middle rows. As the rest of the class filtered in, I immediately felt that familiar, icy prickle at the back of my neck. I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.
Eliza Reece took a seat two rows behind me. I could feel her eyes burning a hole in the back of my head.
Professor Crespin clapped his hands together, the sound echoing loudly through the amphitheater and instantly silencing the room.
“Portal Mechanics—” His eyes swept the room before landing squarely on me.
“Is the study of the spaces between. Not outer space. The nothingness that holds the something together. For centuries, we have taught this class strictly as theoretical. Today, however, we have the unique opportunity to discuss practical applications.” He gestured in my direction.
“Ms. Black. Tell me, when you open a portal, what is the exact mathematical frequency required to keep the dimensional tear from collapsing and crushing you into atomic dust?”
I blinked, completely taken aback. “Mathematical frequency? I... I don’t use math, sir. I just feel the axis points and pull them together and apart.”
A collective gasp echoed through the room, coming from a few of the more studious-looking Imperium students. Crespin simply stared at me, his expression unreadable.
“You feel it,” he repeated softly. “Fascinating. The sheer arrogance of instinct.” He turned back to the blackboard, picking up a piece of chalk. “Then today, Ms. Black, you will learn the math. Because instinct will only keep you alive until your luck runs out.”
As he began writing complex, swirling equations on the board, I let out a slow breath. Imperium was going to be a completely different battlefield. But as I glanced at the Stardust Shield members sitting around me, both of them diligently taking notes, I realized I was woefully out of my depth.