“She is,” I called back.
After that there was only the rhythm of my steps and the hum inside my bones, the storm coiled low beneath my skin, every heartbeat tightening the thread between us.
The corridors bent toward a single point, as though the whole castle had turned its attention the same way I had. The air tightened with it, quiet and expectant.
And then there she was.
She stood before a sealed door, her hand hovering over its surface, the sigils burning faintly beneath her touch. She looked back, eyes wide, her breath caught between us as if the same pull that had dragged me across the castle had reached her too.
Her mark flared and mine answered. The sigils on the door ignited all at once, a blinding rush of light flooding the stone between us, and then everything moved.
Chapter 21
The Threshold Broken
ATLAS
Light burned, then broke.
For a moment there was nothing, no sound, no breath, just the weight of it settling through the bones of the castle.
When I opened my eyes, the door stood open, its edges glowing like metal pulled from flame. The air tasted of rain and iron.
Caelira stood beside me, one hand half raised, her skin washed in the residual light. Her mark still shimmered,answering the glow that bled through the seem of the door. The expression on her face wasn’t fear, it looked like recognition.
The corridor behind us was silent, the kind that only follows something ancient remembering its name.
Joren’s voice broke it. “Tell me that was not supposed to happen.”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. Every instinct told me the same thing, the door hadn’t been opened, it had awakened. The air was thick with static, as if urging us closer. Caelira looked up at me. “You’ve seen this before?”
“Not like this.” My voice came out lower than I meant. “It shouldn’t even exist anymore.”
Her fingers brushed the stone. The sigils nearest her hand brightened, a soft pulse threading through the pattern closest to her touch. Then the light crawled up her arm, catching beneath her skin until it spread through her whole body, veins of stormlight, as if the Court itself had found a way to breathe through her.
“Caelira—”
I reached for her without thinking, half in warning, half to pull her back. My hand caught hers?—
The light leapt.
It coursed up my arm like fire turned liquid, sinking beneath the skin until it met the mark under my ribs. For a heartbeat I saw it, lines of gold tracing through me the way they did through her, our patterns mirroring, merging.
Every symbol near our hands flared, the glow running along the carvings like a fuse catching. The hum deepened, low and resonant, filing the space between us. And in that breath of silence, I knew. It hadn’t been her alone that woke the door.
It had been us.
She looked up at me, eyes wide. For a moment neither of us moved, the air humming around us, waiting.
“Atlas” she whispered.
I shook my head. “Stay behind me.”
“I’m not?—”
“I know.” My voice came out rougher than I meant, low enough that it almost wasn’t a sound at all. “Just… let me go first.”
She didn’t argue, but she didn’t step back either. Her gaze held mine, steady, the kind of defiance that didn’t need words. I took one breath, then another, and reached out. The stone was warm beneath my palm as I pushed the door open.
