Page 56 of Darkbirch Academy

“I assume you have a plan for getting past security with our... package?” I ask, nodding toward Mazrov’s form.

“The guards won’t see us,” Dayn says simply.

“Invisibility spell?” I raise an eyebrow. “Fancy.”

“Not exactly.”

As we approach the service gate, I notice the two guards stationed there standing unnaturally still. As we draw closer, I see their eyes are open but vacant, staring straight ahead without tracking our movement.

“What did you do to them?” I ask, waving a hand in front of one guard’s face. No response.

“They’re merely... elsewhere at the moment,” Dayn replies. “They’ll remember nothing of our passing.”

“Must be convenient, being able to mind-wipe people atwill,” I mutter as we slip through the gate. “Do you ever use that trick at faculty meetings?”

“Tempting,” he says, and I swear I catch a slight smile on his lips before it vanishes.

We move through the darkened service corridors of Heathborne, our footsteps echoing softly against stone. I match my pace to Dayn’s, careful to stay close as we navigate the labyrinthine passages. The walls feel like they’re closing in, ancient stone breathing with secrets. Or maybe that’s just my imagination, fueled by the increasingly bizarre situation I find myself in.

“So,” I whisper, breaking the tense silence as we turn down yet another identical corridor. “What’s your blood type anyway? Just curious. For science.”

Dayn doesn’t even glance at me. “I don’t believe dragon blood falls within standard human classification systems.”

“Right. Of course not. That would be too convenient.” I step over a loose flagstone. “Probably tastes terrible anyway. Like, I don’t know, fire and brimstone? Liquid arrogance?”

This earns me a sideways look, his amber eyes glinting in the dim light. “You have a peculiar fixation with blood this evening.”

“Just making conversation.” I shrug. “Better than discussing the weather or how we’re smuggling an unconscious guard through the castle.”

I scan the corridor ahead, mapping possible escape routes should we encounter trouble. Old habits.

“Your grandmother visited you,” Dayn says suddenly, his voice low and matter-of-fact.

I nearly trip over my own feet. “What?”

“In the stone chamber. You had a spectral visitor.” Hecontinues walking as if he’d merely commented on a change in temperature. “What did she tell you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie, the words feeling clumsy on my tongue. “Though if you’re suggesting I talk to ghosts now, I’m flattered you think I’m that powerful while under the influence of your runes.”

“The runes on your wrist flared. They respond to certain... interferences.” His tone remains casual, but there’s an edge to it now. “Ancestral communication would qualify.”

Fantastic. My magical monitor apparently doubles as a spirit detector. “If you must know, she just wanted to check if I was eating enough vegetables. Very concerned about my fiber intake.”

“Somehow I doubt that.” Dayn shifts Mazrov’s weight again with ease. “Salem matriarchs aren’t known for their nutritional advice.”

We turn down another corridor, this one narrower than the others. The air feels different here—charged somehow, as if the very stones are holding their breath. Ahead, a door stands partially hidden in an alcove, the wood ancient and marked with symbols similar to those in the forest chamber.

“Here,” Dayn says, stopping before it. He presses a palm against the center of the door. The symbols carved into the wood begin to glow with the same amber light as his eyes, pulsing in a complex rhythm. The door swings inward silently, revealing a spiraling staircase descending into darkness.

“After you,” he says with a gesture that might almost be mistaken for courtesy if I didn’t know better.

30

Istep through the doorway and onto the first stair. The darkness below seems to swallow the light, an impenetrable void that makes my skin prickle with unease.

“I don’t suppose dragons come with built-in night vision they can share?” I ask, testing the next step with my foot before committing my weight to it.

“No need,” Dayn says, close behind me. He snaps his fingers, and balls of amber light appear, floating along the walls of the staircase like ethereal lanterns. “Better?”

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