The rest of the day I’m in my own head. Practicing my sword skills is a reflexive dance with the high-society cadet yelling after every choreographed strike. His flamboyant robes and ridiculous dyed eyebrows make me want to scrape them off with the tip of my blade. But he’s ancillary. Thanks to the prime bubble in Scorius’ chamber, I now know for sure that castle Dovesier stood atop in the afterlife was built in reflection of that memory.

  He’s hiding something beneath it. He’s holding Sefene.

  Thinking back to my last trip down there, there was an endless sky beneath the castle, but there was also a dark stem under the castle’s foundation—like an inverted shadow of a building. Something called to me, but I ignored it. The presence of Dovesier overwhelmed everything in that moment. That’s where he hides her. Why else would the prime take me to that memory? It must be on the dragon’s mind.

  A part of me wants to taunt him so I can know for sure if he’s hiding her, but if I did, he’d try to foil my plan. Good thing he can’t read my mind like Boeru can.

  Screw it. I’m going to find a way to dispel Relias’ ward and get myself back to the afterlife.

  “Ack!” The pinch of a blade nicking my side makes me recoil as I’m jolted to the present.

  “You’ll never unlock your Spellglass enchantment with novice missteps like that one, Winbridge.” Tutor Branice paces around each sparring mat. Long black gloves and leather boots scrunch as she moves. “Lor’fyre would’ve been a better fit, if you ask me. Perhaps you should trade him, and in exchange, he could give you a lesson or two in blade mechanics.”

  “Thought that’s what you were for,” I say under my breath. After a sigh, I steady myself, flipping the blade into ready stance.

  “She’s right,” Ogurford—the high-society dick—says. “Had I known it was this easy to best a dragonborn, I would’ve challenged you months ago.”

  “C’mon, then.” I pull a trace amount of warring dark, changing the pulse to the crisscross pressure on my forearms that comes with symbiosis. Increasing my strength like this makes my whole body lighter, and wielding a sword is like holding a feather.

  Ogurford takes two dashing steps forward with his off-hand behind his back. Reading about these fencer-type fighters and actually seeing them are two different things entirely. It’s like they were made for arrogant sky watchers from the upper tiers.

  He comes in poking. I evade with a sidestep, then duck his next motion. The truth is, now that I’m present, he doesn’t stand a chance. Even without my dragons, I’ve taken complete control of my warring dark. It gives me the sense that time is slowed. But really, I think my reflexes are just enhanced.

  I’m so confident I can best him that I don’t even need to use my blade to deflect. With an inward spin, I avoid his next diagonal slice and catch his hand by the wrist. One quick squeeze, and I feel his bone weakening in my grasp.

  Before he can yelp, his blade teeters on the mat, and I flip him to the floor with Spellglass’ icy point to his throat.

  “There’s the one everyone cheers for,” Tutor Branice huffs. “Perhaps there’s hope for you yet.”

  The whole process is frustrating. I’ve had the blade for months, and I’ve come to revere its prestige and master its weight, but it’s a constant reminder that I’m nowhere near the mastery needed to rescue my brother.

  Syphoning a dragon spirit’s elements is only one facet of power. I have to be proficient with my weaponry, and that means more than swinging them with precision. Tutor’s right—Broggen has a specialty I do not. He can unlock an entire arsenal from one blade.

  The epiphany hits me like a stone—I’ve been looking in the wrong places. Weapon enchantment evocations yielded nothing from this blade no matter how hard I’ve tried. Maybe… it’s like stances. Spellglass is said to reflect elemental magi. That sounds more in the realm of an anti-mage than an enchantment.

  I back away from Ogurford and turn my attention to the tutor. She knows. Of course she knows. I realize half of this sanctum game is figuring out these puzzles of war. That’s why we shouldn’t just be taking up Izfael’s arms. We’d look as foolish as I do with Spellglass—even if it is something I’ve earned.

  “Weapon swap!” the tutor calls.

  Switching to my chained dagger, Ogurfur doesn’t stand a chance. I dive back into my head while thinking of ways to try and dispel Relias’ ward while whipping the dagger to disarm the high-society prick on every turn.

  He’s frustrated, and now eats his words. The fool might have more merits than me because his house is generous, but he’s not up to par.

  “You will be a shit knight on the ground, Winbridge, but you may one day be a formidable rider.” Tutor Branice rounds our mat a second time. “Add a few links to that chain, coat it with an elemental-resistant ichor, and you may be good to fly.”

  I’m always looking through the blunt critiques with her. It makes her compliments that much more powerful. Thinking back to my spat with Tesstalia rings some truth to all of it.

  As the two-hour sparring course progresses, the tutor switches out some of the less-skilled cadets to create two-on-one scenarios. She likes to pit houses against one another too. When I’m paired against a ranged Valor cadet, I switch my warring dark to the antagonistic pulses, knowing I can dodge faster with the raw energy of hate flowing through me. That’s how Broggen moves so fast.

  Dodging arrows and watching them poke into the wooden wall at the edge of class is satisfying. Sure, elementals can do it by conjuring an ice, fire, or wind shield. But my way works too.

  I hurl my dagger underhand right for his gut, and just as he makes the move to dodge, I reel it back with a sudden jerk and flip it overhead. As his head tilts to gauge where the blade will land, I’m already dashing forward in position to catch it.

  With a final tug of my chain, I whip the hilt into my grasp and spin to be inches from the Valor cadet’s neck.

  What was that about me being a shit knight?

  The silence around the room says it all.

  The Valor cadet is fuming, knowing he’s stuck unless he wants a blade in the throat.

  Tutor Branice hides her smirk, and the others hold their breath.

  “Next!” she calls, preventing the satisfaction of prolonging the awe.

  It’s a good move. It keeps the victors humble. And in war, I suspect morale only goes so far when deep in the midst of battle. We have to be quick and agile after defeating an enemy. Then again, I still have no idea what it looks like up there.

  Thinking of what Scorius said—about not mistaking weapons for soldiers—I’m worried for Kane’s sanity. If he’s become a killing machine like Elrick… no, can’t think that way.

  Have to make progress.

  Have to move.

  After sparring, I decide to cut away from the cram class of mathematics, physics, and comprehension. Since the sanctum has adopted deep war protocols, those fundamentals have become… less inspired. And thankfully I learned most of that in the sub-tier.

  Now for my crazy idea…

  Walking with purpose out of the sanctum and back to House Sivus, I pray that Renesta is true to herself—cutting class and acting as a shade somewhere.

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Tingles tickle my chest at the idea. Most of the pledges should be in class… and all of the marked too. It would be just me and her… again.

  The red alt-magic film beams to life around my quarter’s doors, then blinks away to let me in. I take a quick glance around the main hall—hearth spent soot, window curtains draped open, no sign of pledges—and immediately hang right to Renesta’s closed-off room.

  “Ren,” I say, peeking down the hall to her ajar door.

  The bed’s made and no one’s atop it. Shit.

  “Ren.” I knock on the door. My brow furrows when I see a head of silky hair shining in the sunlight. I barge into the room and round the bed to see her sitting cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed, probably somewhere far away.

  “Ren,” I whisper, shaking her shoulder. A heap of black slivers rush back into her, jolting me back as her eyes open. Before I can blink, an enchanted edge is at my throat.

  “Are you mad, Hale?” Her chest pumps up and down.

  “You did the same to me just last night.” I smack the blade away.

  She scowls. “What?”

  “Oo. Did I interrupt something important?”

  She gets to her bare feet, shimmering dress crackling as the sequins drape to the floor. “Yes, actually.”

  “More mystery. Shouldn’t you be in class, honing your skill?”

  “I was in class, imbecile.” She wipes herself down and pushes past me, holding the door for me to exit her room. “I can be two places at once, remember?”

  “Mm.” I eye her suspiciously.

  “Not all Prominents teach bashing each other over the head. Some have a more subtle nature to them.”

  I walk past her, feeling her eyes boring into the back of my head. With her hand on my shoulder, she shuts the door behind us and locks it.

  “The longer I remain a shade, the more comfortable my shadow snaps become.”

  “Awfully talkative for someone normally so aloof. Guilty, sounds like,” I say.

  “Have you barged into my room to accuse me? Or maybe looking to accept my generous offer?” She runs a finger under the shoulder strap of her dress.

  “Neither, actually.”

  “Too bad.” She puckers her lips, taking a step closer—intoxicating scent of lavender washing over me. “Seems like we might be alone.”

  “And also we might not be.”

  “All the better.” She runs a hand over my collar.

  I know she’s trying to distract me from her guilty trip—wherever she was—and it’s working. Can’t help but glance at her lips as her arms cross over the back of my neck, like we’re about to share a dance.

  “I don’t think I can make it any more obvious, Haledyn. Misty gets her fun. Jurso gets his fun. Even the pledges try to sneak some quiet time where they can. Why not us?”

  My entire body heats up. It’s not like I don’t want to.

  She tilts her head. “I take it you weren’t able to sort things out with your sister—”

  “Not a word about her,” I speak firmly. “Not a word, Ren.”

  “As you wish.” She slides her arms off of me, but I catch her by the waist and pull her close. We’re nose to nose, both breathing heavily. “Oh?” She bites her lip, her emerald eyes like precious stones I can’t turn away from. They glow even in the dark corners of her hallway.

  I don’t trust this woman as far as I can throw her, but I’ve been into her from the very first second I laid eyes on her. It might not be right, but…

  My urges take over and I lean for a kiss.

  She sighs immediately, her shoulders relaxing, lips pressed against mine. Our warring dark breaks away from our bodies and creates a slow-moving barrier around us, pushing us together. It’s been a long time coming.

  ***

  The last thing I meant to do was skip class to get lost with Renesta, but here I am, nearly dosed off in her bed—her in my arms—as I hear the thwomp of the main doors closing.

  “Shit!” I whisper through gritted teeth, jolting upright.

  Her warm hand presses against my chest. “Relax. You act like your house mother will come stomping with a whip.”

  “Layla… she can’t know.” I fly out of her bed and stuff on my breaches.

  Renesta rolls her eyes. “Your tethers are all in your head, Hale.”

  “Tethers.” I shake my head, remembering myself. “I almost forgot what I came to see you for.”

  “Hard to think when you have chemistry, isn’t it?”

  “Stop,” I scoff, pulling the back of my hair. “I need the ward on my Seal broken. Do you, or anyone you meet with in your ultra-secret dealings, have a way to break them… discretely?”

  “A Dane’s ward? The Dane? No one here can break that, outside of maybe a Prominent. However, I move past them all the time.”

  “Oh no you don’t. I’m not about to be accused of another murder for losing you to the afterlife.”

  “I’d love to see it, Hale.” She leisurely gets out of bed and takes her time to dress, so I check no one’s headed this way, then re-shut her door quietly in case my worst nightmare comes true and the one-in-thirteen chance Layla walked through those front doors actually happened.

  “Not a chance,” I say. “Can you get me through, though?”

  “Perhaps. But what’s in it for me?”

  I turn away, cracking open the door again to peek through the slit. My heart is thumping, and for more than one reason, I still feel heat in my cheeks.

  Honestly, I’ve never been with such a beautiful woman in my life, and on top of that, we have amazing chemistry. But Layla…

  I bite my lip, hearing footsteps walking around the main hall of my quarters. “Quick, give me that tome.” I hold out my hand, and Ren tosses it at me way too hard, to the point I almost fumble it.

  “Oops.”

  “Will you cut it out?”

  She laughs at me while tying her dress.

  “Ready?” I ask.

  “I suppose.” She arcs an eyebrow. “You’re giving me one of those transferrable merits when I get punished for abandoning class.”

  “Since when do you care—oh forget it.” I slip out the door and knock on it as if I’m just going to bother her. “Renesta, open up,” I say loud enough, hopefully. But I no longer hear footsteps in the main hall.

  “Hit and run, huh? House Father warned me about guys like you.”

  “I hate you.”

  We head to the main hall while I have my face in the book. I can feel the heat pulsing around my cheeks.

  Please don’t be Layla. Please don’t be Layla.

  “Oh, you scared the shit out of me. Gods, Hale.” Tesstalia puts a hand to her chest, then her eyes scan Renesta. “Whoa, two of you. In the middle of a double-class?”

  “Issues with the Seal,” I say. “Going to see if this shade can help me get past them.”

  “Playing with fire.” Tess snaps her tongue.

  “You above all want clout in House Sivus, right? I’m trying to gain it,” I say.

  “May I come?” she asks.

  Truthfully, Tess is the most trustworthy person in this room. She saved my life, even if it was for selfish reasons, and I’ll never forget it. Not to mention, she’s also the only one who has seen Dovesier.

  “If you can keep it from the others. I’m having dragon troubles, and that Seal is the answer,” I speak vaguely.

  Tess rubs her hands together. “How did us girls get so lucky?”

  “Well, it’s not like you weren’t there on that horrible day,” I say. “You know Izfael’s chambers better than all of us.”

  “True.”

  We walk toward the narrow corridor of dark mythos, to the secret stone entrance of my hidden quarters. I’m feeling more and more like Scorius as time goes on. Always brooding around the warring dark, testing my bonds.

  “What is this I hear of Seals?” Dovesier huffs in my ear. “Are you in such a rush to become part of the dead?”

  “Why don’t you go get your ass kicked by Boeru some more? I see how you brothers talk a big game, then cower when he shows.”

  Dovesier squeezes his wing hard around my mental plane. “I do not like your tone, little mortal.”

  With a clench of my fists, I send the warring dark writhing around the dragon, allowing me to feel the lightning conjuring inside his body. I can extract it at any moment. I’m in control.

  Dovesier roars in dismay as I fling him off me.

  “It’s Boeru I want cradling my shoulder, not you,” I hiss at him.

  He chuffs back at me, sending sparks my way. “Do not forget the element that saved you.”

  I shut my bonds out the best I can, refocusing my thoughts to the task at hand—using Renesta to slip past Relias’ ward. She’s been sneaking out of the sanctum nightly in her shade form. Surely she can get past this.

  I know where you’re being held, Sefene. Just hold on.

  Shhhp.

  The stone entrance to the secret chamber rolls open for us to walk in. Renesta wastes no time in swaying over to it. Her beads glitter as she bends to hover her hands over the Seal—testing it.

  “Izfael used to come out of this room bleeding many times over.” Tess rubs her chin. “It wasn’t until you and Lor’fyre showed up on that crazy day that he really become obsessed. He lost his partner-in-crime to House Kavoh and gained the highest prospect of cracking his Seal.”

  “Who made it, though?” I ask. “Was it him?”

  Tess laughs. “No. Heavens no. You’ll soon see, Haledyn, the wealth and power he created can gain powerful allies. He hired an ex-Dane to build this for him, and there wasn’t a gods-damn thing Lord Karloth could do about it. Threatened not to participate in a challenge for half a year if Sivus prevented him from having that meeting. Karloth’s hands were tied.”

  “And you say I’m playing with fire?” I scoff.

  “He was quite literally. All the servants—I mean pledges—were terrified.”

  “And now?”

  “You see them.” She shrugs. “They’re all smiles and excitement now. You’ve done a lot in a short time, Hale. Though I didn’t take you as a man fishing for compliments.”

  I nudge Tess and move toward the Seal.

  “It’s inconsistent.” Renesta presses her ear close to the Seal, still hovering over it. Her shadows toil on opposite sides, looking for something. “The ward is strongest in the center, and as it branches over the Seal, there are weak spots in the foundations.”

  She’s done this before, for sure. There’s no hesitation in her movements, and her shadows work with the same confidence. What the hell has she been trained for? I feel like I’m missing a gigantic piece of her puzzle.

  “Can we get me through it?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “I’ll need time.”

  “Take all you need,” I say, earning a scornful glare.

  “First you want me to be more attentive to class, now you say abandon it again?” Her shadows stop what they’re doing to stare at me too.

  I turn to Tess. “Do you have access to any of Izfael’s old connections? Someone who can bypass a ward?”

  “Hm.” She puts a hand to her chin.

  “Fine. I’ll do it. But you owe me.” Renesta doesn’t look away from the Seal again, knowing I called her bluff.

  “Goes without saying.” I smirk.