He led us up, boots light on stone. At the top, we emerged into a quiet hallway lined with cadet dorms. Davis skidded to a halt beside a tall tapestry that stretched floor to ceiling, deep orange fabric embroidered with Mageia’s sigil.
He yanked back a corner and pressed his shoulder into the stone wall behind it. With a low groan, the wall shifted inward, revealing a narrow, dim corridor cloaked in shadows.
“This way,” he whispered, already slipping through the opening.
One by one, the others filed in. I lingered for a moment, stunned. I’d explored every inch of this castle—or so I thought. How many of these hidden passages had I missed?
I ducked in behind the redhead and pulled the door shut. The air was stale with years of dust, and the walls pressed in on either side. We moved fast, our footsteps soft against the stone as the floor sloped downward, then rose again. The tunnel twisted left and right.
“Not far now,” Davis murmured. “Two more turns and we’ll come out behind the portrait in the administrative wing.”
I narrowed my eyes. “And how exactly do you know about these secret passages, cadet?”
He clicked his tongue; the sound echoed. “You’d be surprised how resourceful I am.”
“No, really, Davis. How?” Rhodes’s voice was low and sharp behind him.
Davis dropped his voice to a murmur. “First year, drunk on ale, leaned against the wrong tapestry. Found myself in here and… well, let’s just say I started using them to avoid being late to class.”
Rhodes scoffed under his breath but didn’t press further.
The tunnel narrowed as we approached the end. A thin line of light traced the edge of a seam ahead—where stone gave way to something more. Davis slowed and held a finger to his lips before pressing his palm against the wall.
With a soft scrape, a hidden panel swung inward, revealing a silent corridor lined with framed portraits. The administrative wing.
We filed out quickly, and Davis nodded down the hall. “His office is three doors down on the right. Keep quiet.”
We crept along the corridor, every click of our boots jarring my nerves. At Hogboom’s door, Rhodes stepped forward and tested the handle—it didn’t budge. Locked.
I stepped in and shouldered him aside. “Move.”
Like the night I broke Shayde Wylder’s nose, I channeled my earth element and sketched a rune with dirt on Hogboom’s door. With a faint click, the latch gave, and I slipped inside.
The crew filed in behind me, and Scarlet stopped. “Is that how you unlocked my shackles?” she whispered.
I didn’t respond—just met her crimson eyes. The memory of her lying filthy in that shed, chains on her ankles and wrists, knotted my throat. I nodded toward the office, silently asking her not to ask more—and she obliged.
I locked the door behind her.
The office was exactly how I remembered it: bookshelves overflowing, stacks of parchment littering every surface, a deep mahogany desk like a throne beneath the tall, arched window.
Scarlet stepped forward, eyes scanning with purpose. “We need to find that tome. Quickly.”
Everyone scattered, careful not to knock anything over. I went for the desk drawers while Rhodes and Davis rifled through stacks of books. Nash and Scarlet’s roommates combed the shelves. And the redhead lounged in Hogboom’s chair, boots propped on the armrest like she owned the place.
I shot her a glare over my shoulder as I yanked open the next drawer. “Are you going to get off your ass and help?”
She lazily spun a thin spiral of water in the air and shrugged. “Looks like you’ve got it handled.”
I scoffed and slammed the drawer. The crack of wood halted everyone’s movements.
I stood tall and turned to her. “Unlike my sister, I have no problem leaving your ass behind.”
Her eyes widened—just slightly—before her smirk returned. “Do that, and I’ll have no reason not to report your little break-in to the War Chief.”
Instinct took over. I lunged.
A rush of air slammed into my chest and shoved me back. I caught myself, eyes snapping to Scarlet. Her hand was outstretched.
