Page 80 of Darkness and Deceit
The image is burned behind my eyes?—
Four threads.
One pointing to Kai, warped with blue flame.
One tugging toward the tower.
One stretching toward the dorms.
And one that reached for him.
Augustus.
Even now, I’m not sure which unsettles me more—the thread itself, or the fact that he didn’t deny my suspicions.
I stumble over a root, and that’s enough to remind me I should probably pay more attention to the path ahead and less to the one unraveling behind me.
We pass through the worst of the damage.
Here, the trees aren’t just dead. They’re hollowed and caved in. as if something chewed through the inside and left the shells behind. And yet… In a crack between two collapsed trunks, I see something green.
A single sprout curls upward toward the dim light. I crouch, brushing ash away from the base of its stem. “It’s already starting to heal,” I murmur.
Augustus’ voice is quiet behind me. “Not everything will.”
I straighten slowly. “Maybe not. But some things don’t need to heal to come back. Some things just… regrow.”
He doesn’t reply, but I know he heard me.
And I know he’s thinking about Kai just like I am.
My thoughts drift to the other two threads despite myself. The ones not tied to Augustus or Kai.
Who else is connected to me?
Simon and Vaughn?
Could it really be?
What does that mean for them… forus?
I want to press Augustus again, but I don’t. Because he won’t lie, but he won’t give me the truth either.
The path dips ahead and it’s less a natural slope, and more like something caved in. A shallow crater, ringed with broken roots and scorched stone. My stomach turns the moment we see it.
This is where the damage hit hardest. The wrongness here is heavier. Ancient. Like it’s taken root beneath our feet and is listening.
For a split second, everything inside me pulls taut. My magic presses outward like it’s being scored. Not drained, not pulled. Just… scratched raw. As if something unseen is dragging claws across it. Testing.
Augustus tenses at the same time.
Magic stirs instinctively at my fingertips, ready if I need it. But Augustus doesn’t move to defend himself. He just stands there—silent, composed, and completely unarmed.
And that’s when it hits me.
He’s not reacting because it’s not his job to fight.
It’s mine.
