My heart jolted. “Three are dead?”
The blade nodded solemnly. “Allionadda Maksimov was lost in an explosion of natural fire.”
The air was ripped from my lungs. Professor Maksimov—Allie—had offered us private flying lessons outside our regular class schedule. Unlike the others, she didn’t bend to Kalluri’s every whip. She had stormed into his office after the Burn Trials, defending me during my interrogation—even though she barely knew me.
But she knew of Lakota, and of his previous rider.
Another professor unafraid to seek the truth. Another professor dead.
Arrow tapped a finger against the table, the sound sharp in the quiet room. Then he fixed me with a stare that sent a shiver down my spine.
“Scarlet,” he said, his voice measured. “Do you know what Reyes was after?”
A lump formed in my throat. I swallowed it down, feeling the burn at my fingertips as my element flared in response. I forced it back before stray sparks could escape. Stepping forward, I placed my hands on the table.
“Shayde Wylder confirmed the Grim is searching for access to the Eternal Tomb. This Key you speak of must be related to that.”
Soft gasps rippled through the room. I ignored them, forcing my tone to remain indifferent. “When we were on the mountain, she had a broken shard of the Mareki Gem—one that can steal elemental magic from another, draining their life in the process.”
Arrow’s nostrils flared.
Fallon pushed off the wall, stepping closer until she leaned on her knuckles against the table, staring me down.
“She declared her intent to become an archmage,” I said, keeping my voice steady, “which I assume would serve Tyria’s conquest of the continent. But I don’t understand the importance of the Eternal Tomb. Isn’t it heavily guarded by Mageia at all times? That’s what the public has always been told.”
“No, it is not.” Fallon slowly shook her head, her eyes void of emotion. “That is a lie Mageia spread across Arya to keep them from looking.”
I let out an exasperated breath. “How is that possible? Mageia is our war college. How are Aryans supposed to feel safe when their leaders are outright lying to them?”
Fallon smirked. “Because Mageia’s leadership is a bunch of—”
“Fallon,” Arrow warned, his tone edged with authority.
She inhaled deeply, reined herself in, then refocused. “You said Wylder believes Cora is after the Eternal Tomb. Does he believe, or does he know?”
I flinched, weighing her words. She was pushing, testing me. I fought the urge to let her sharp tone push me into defiant silence.
“He knows,” I snapped. My fingers curled into fists at my sides. “I was also constrained and interrogated by Captain Thorne’s men for the same information.”
“That’s not possible,” said the familiar fighter by the window, not looking up from his carving.
A heavy pause settled over the room.
Rhodes stepped up to the table then, his presence sharp, cutting. I could feel his gaze burning through me, but I kept my focus locked on Fallon. Her eyes widened slightly before she schooled her expression back to neutrality.
In the chaos of those last weeks at Mageia, I had unintentionally kept that a secret—until now.
“They wanted information about the Eternal Tomb.” My voice was steady, but the memory clawed at the edges of my mind. “After burning my skin with a fire-hot poker, they resorted to using a truth powder on me.”
I hesitated, the pause stretching as the memory resurfaced—how strange it felt to shut my mental gates that day. How it felt like someone else was there, pushing the gate closed beside me.
My breath caught. My eyes snapped back to Fallon’s.
Her usual wicked expression had softened just slightly—enough to reveal something I had never seen from her before.
Resolution.
“Was that you?” I asked breathlessly.
