“How do you know that?” I ask warily.
“I’ve been looking into the malum for a long time. I suspected Professor White when I found her trying to steal a book from the Rosette all about chaos magic. She’s hated me ever since. St. Adolphus Hall has kept an eye on her for a while.”
It all starts to make sense. That’s why Atticus saw him around Arches that day. He knew Professor White was up to something.
Aspen moves to lead us away from the carnage. “I have to get you out of here.”
“We can’t. Our friend is in trouble,” I say.
Dorian explains, “Professor White took him to the tunnels under Arches.”
Aspen’s eyes land on the wand in Dorian’s hand, but something heavy slams into the painting hiding the entrance, making all of us jump. It sounded like a body.
“That wand is the only thing that can stop her now. Go,” Aspen tells us. “I’ll deal with the malum.”
“You’re sure?” I ask.
“The place is crawling with wizards, we’ll handle it.”
“Right.”
“You’ve been there? To these tunnels?” Aspen asks.
I nod.
“Take this.” He cups the lights from his hand and holds them out to me, transferring the spell from his palm to mine. The lights dance inches above my skin, floating like a cloud of fireflies. “Ifyou know where to go, if you remember the place, the lights will be your map. Follow them. It’s how we move around the tunnels to the archive.”
“Thank you,” I tell him. “And I’m sorry about, um, us…”
“Yeah, I figured that wasn’t going to work out when I met your two friends. The three of you are kind of a throuple, aren’t you?”
Before I can answer, Aspen’s already pushed open the painting to join the fight. “GO!”
Dorian and I take off, traveling deep into the bowels of Sibylline. Our hurried footsteps echo all around us, and Dorian’s haggard breathing is close behind me. “Nothing’s following us,” he says, checking over his shoulder. “But don’t stop.”
I don’t intend to. I know what we left behind. I still hear those people’s screams…They still echo in my skull. We pass through great atriums, winding corridors, chambers with vaulted ceilings, and ancient passageways, following the light as it guides us toward the tunnels under Arches. We find a place where the walls are covered in familiar writing. The sigils, the smell, the sounds, all of it is just as I remember. This is it.
My heart races as we approach the ruined chambers. My mind goes to the worst possible places, imagining how we’ll find Atticus. I hope we’re not too late. God, please let us get to him in time.
The lights lead us to the door of Adelina Ward’s lab, where they vanish, snuffed out like a candle in a strong breeze. We’re plunged into darkness. There is only the faint glow coming from under the door.
“We’re here,” I say.
In the dark, Dorian’s eyes are mere pricks of light. He rolls up his sleeves, and together we push open the door and step into the lab. The candles in the wall sconces cast flickering rays of light across the stone. The alchemy table, full of vials and a simmeringcauldron, bubbles with magic. There is no sign of Atticus or Professor White.
At the end of the tunnel, in the cell room, there’s a golden light. Candles, hundreds of them. The air is rank with the smell of blood, sulfur, and smoke. The walls are half-collapsed but still standing.
Beside the iron cell, a body rests on the floor. It’s Professor White. Her gray hair is splayed out around her head as she lies, her eyes wide open, a book on the floor beside her. Adelina’s journal.
Then I see him. Atticus. He’s chained up on the floor in the cell, dried blood marking a circle around his body.
Dorian throws open the iron door with a clang and rushes to Atticus’s side.
He stirs, groaning, and Dorian scrambles to remove the iron cuffs from his wrists. “They’re locked,” he says.
I go to Professor White and check her pulse. She’s still breathing, but she doesn’t react to my touch. Her eyes are blank; they stare into endless nothing. In her pocket I find the key. I throw it to Dorian, and he unlocks Atticus’s chains.
I grab Adelina’s journal before returning to Atticus just as Dorian removes the last of the cuffs from his ankles.
