Chapter 31: Duel in the Dusk
The air in the hidden ritual chamber tasted of iron and burnt ozone. Evan's fingers tightened around the hilt of his dagger as Mira Solene stepped forward, the forbidden spellbook pulsing in her hands like a second heartbeat. The crimson glow from its pages painted her sharp features in bloody light, catching the silver flecks that now swirled in her eyes—the same corruption that had taken root in Isolde's gaze after the dreamwalk.
"You're too late, stormcaller," Mira said, her voice layered with something deeper, older. The vines curling around her ankles trembled as though caught in an unfelt wind. "The final preparations are already underway."
Behind Evan, Rowan's deep voice rumbled like shifting stone. "What the hell have you done, Mira?"
She laughed—a sound that started human but ended in something closer to the screech of twisting metal. The book in her hands flipped open of its own accord, pages rustling despite the stagnant air. "What needed to be done. What none of you had the stomach to attempt."
Evan's injured arm throbbed in time with the book's pulsing light. The venom from the garden attack had left his right side nearly useless, the skin from wrist to shoulder still mottled black and green beneath the bandages. But his left hand held the oathbound dagger steady, its warmth spreading up his arm like liquid courage.
Isolde pushed past Aria, her cracked glasses reflecting the crimson glow. "You're binding yourself to the Vessel," she breathed. "That's why you needed the seventh-year students. Not just their magic—their bodies as vessels."
Mira's grin widened, showing too many teeth. "Clever little bookworm. Pity you'll never get to write your thesis."
The attack came without warning.
Vines exploded from the chamber walls, barbed tendrils lashing toward them with murderous intent. Aria's knives flashed, severing three before they could strike, but a fourth wrapped around her ankle and yanked hard. She hit the stone floor with a grunt, barely rolling away as another vine stabbed downward like a spear, embedding itself inches from her face.
Rowan bellowed and slammed his palms against the ground. The stone rippled outward in a wave, crushing vines beneath its weight. But for every one destroyed, two more sprouted in its place, their thorns dripping the same venom that burned through Evan's veins.
Evan dodged a sweeping tendril, his boots slipping in the ever-growing tangle. The dagger in his hand flared brighter, its runes burning white-hot. He didn't think—just threw.
The blade spun end over end, trailing shadows like comet's tail, and embedded itself in the spellbook's open pages.
Mira shrieked—a sound of pure, undiluted fury. The vines recoiled as black ichor spurted from the book's wound, splattering across the ritual floor. The liquid hissed where it landed, eating through stone like acid.
"You insignificant worm!" Mira's voice wasn't her own anymore. Something ancient and hungry peered through her eyes as she wrenched the dagger free and cast it aside. The blade clattered across the stones, its glow dimming. "Do you have any idea what you've—"
A silver blur shot past Evan's shoulder.
Selene materialized from the shadows, her own dagger finding its mark in Mira's chest. Not a killing blow—off-center, just below the collarbone—but enough to make the older woman stagger back.
"Enough," Selene growled, her silver eyes blazing. "This ends now."
Mira looked down at the blade protruding from her flesh, then back up with a smile that made Evan's stomach turn. "Oh, little shadow. You have no idea what 'end' even means."
She grabbed Selene's wrist and pulled, impaling herself further on the blade to close the distance between them. Her free hand came up, fingers smeared with the book's black ichor, and pressed against Selene's forehead.
Selene's scream tore through the chamber.
Her silver light flickered wildly as the corruption spread—dark veins racing from the point of contact across her pale skin. She collapsed to her knees, clawing at her face as the darkness crept into her eyes.
Evan moved without thought.
His body remembered the storm magic even if his conscious mind couldn't summon it. The air crackled as he crossed the distance in three strides, his good hand closing around the hilt of his discarded dagger. The moment his fingers touched metal, power surged through him—not just his own magic, but something deeper, older. The oathbond flared to life, a silver thread visible in the air between him and Selene.
Mira turned just in time to meet Evan's blade.
This time, he didn't aim for the book.
The dagger took her through the throat, punching out the back of her neck in a spray of crimson. But instead of blood, shadows poured from the wound, writhing like living things before dissipating into the air.
Mira's eyes widened. Her lips moved soundlessly as she clutched at the blade. The spellbook tumbled from her grasp, its pages fluttering like dying moths.
Then the screaming started.
Not from Mira—from the book itself. A chorus of voices, some young, some ancient, all wailing in agony as the crimson light flickered and died. The vines surrounding them withered instantly, crumbling to dust that smelled of long-dead flowers.
Evan wrenched the dagger free and let Mira's body fall. He dropped to his knees beside Selene, his heart hammering against his ribs. The corruption had spread across half her face, the dark veins pulsing with unnatural life.
"Look at me," he ordered, gripping her chin. Her silver eyes—one still bright, the other nearly swallowed by darkness—flickered to his face. "Fight it."
She gasped, her fingers digging into his arms hard enough to bruise. "The... bond..."
Understanding flashed through him. Evan pressed his forehead to hers and pushed—not with his hands, but with the oath that bound them. The dagger between them grew scalding hot, its runes blazing as he poured every ounce of willpower into that single silver thread connecting their souls.
For one terrible moment, nothing happened.
Then light exploded between them.
The backlash sent Evan skidding backward across the stone floor. His vision whited out, his ears ringing with what sounded like a thousand shattering mirrors. When his sight cleared, Selene lay motionless a few feet away, the corruption receded but not gone—trapped like ink suspended in water beneath her skin.
Aria reached them first, rolling Selene onto her back with surprising gentleness. "She's breathing," the smaller girl reported, her usual snark absent.
Rowan hauled Evan upright with one massive hand. "We need to move. That explosion will have drawn every faculty member in the academy."
Isolde crouched by the fallen spellbook, her corrupted eye gleaming as she examined its now-dormant pages. "There's more here," she murmured. "Plans. Schematics. They're not just feeding the Vessel—they're trying to control it." She looked up, her gaze locking with Evan's. "And they're close. So close."
Evan scooped Selene into his arms, her weight negligible compared to the leaden dread settling in his gut. The dagger at his belt—still warm from whatever power they'd channeled—thrummed in agreement.
As they fled through the tunnels, Evan couldn't shake the image burned into his mind—Mira's smile as she let Selene stab her. Not defeat.
Anticipation.