By bonds unbroken, though worlds are strained,
I call the path that once lay bare,
I name the road between here and there.
The air seems to thicken around me. I move to the next point and let another drop fall. Another point…another drop. And so on. As I go, I speak the second half of the spell.
By love unspoken, by vow undone,
By moon and shadow and dying sun,
Let doors remember what hands have known,
Let not the seeker walk alone.
The candle flames flicker and the ground beneath my feet feels strangely warm—almost alive.
I finish the circuit and step into the center of the pentagram. Reaching into my pocket again, I lift the token.
And as my bloody fingertip touches its surface, light erupts all around me!
Crimson and white and gold spiral upward, twisting like a living thing. I hear gasps and someone shouts my name.
I catch one last glimpse of my friends—faces pale, eyes wide, mouths open in shock?—
Then they fade and the light collapses inward. The grass vanishes beneath my feet and black stone replaces it.
I blink and look around. I’m standing before the towering doors of the Crimson Spires.
I’m back in the Shadow Realm…I just hope I’m not too late.
72
Jules
The doors of the Crimson Spires loom in front of me—black iron traced with sigils I recognize now—symbols that once frightened me but now feel achingly familiar.
I push them open and find…nothing.
No guards…no servants…no torchlight.
The vast foyer yawns before me, hollow and silent, like the ribcage of a dead beast.
My footsteps echo too loudly on the obsidian floor. The sound bounces back at me, warped and lonely, and that’s when I notice the dust—it coats everything. The grand pillars…the carved balustrades. Even the enormous chandeliers hanging overhead, dull and dark, look dusty—their ruby crystals clouded as if no one has polished them in years.
My heart starts to pound. This isn’t right. This can’t be right.
When I left, the Crimson Spires were alive—servants moving silently through the halls, guards stationed at every entrance, warmth and firelight and Lucian’s presence woven into the very walls.
Now it feels… abandoned, like a mausoleum.
“Lucian?” My voice sounds small in the vast space. It vanishes before it can come back to me.
I move farther inside, my long skirt brushing against the dusty floor as I look for the elevator.
The place where it should be—where I remember it—holds nothing but bare wall and cracked marble. No doors…no controls—just blank stone, as if the elevator was never there at all.
A knot of panic tightens in my chest. Where is everyone? Where is Lucian? How can I find him if this whole place is deserted?
