I lower my hands.
Every single person on the hillside is staring at me.
Vera’s on her knees, her dagger forgotten. Nina’s frozen mid-step, her eyes sharp as always. Tears are cutting tracks through the ash on Lauren’s face. Callie and Alessandra are wrapped around each other, prepared to stay together until the very end. Avery’s honey-blonde hair wild, and she’s staring at me like I’m either her salvation or her doom.
There are over fifty survivors.
But Sam’s dead because I hesitated.
Elizabeth’s dead because I missed.
Deidre’s dead because some deaths can’t be stopped.
“Go,” Logan murmurs in my ear, low and urgent. “Get to the passages at Phoenix Hall. Now.”
I picture the storage closet in Phoenix Hall, fire rises around me, and the last thing I see before disappearing into the flames is dozens of faces, frozen in shock, staring at me like I shouldn’t exist.
EVIE
The Ember Archivessmell like dust and secrets.
That’s not a metaphor. There’s actual dust coating every surface, thick enough that my fingers leave trails on the leather-bound spines. Secrets are locked away in tomes that haven’t been opened in decades, maybe centuries. The stone walls hold no residual warmth, just centuries of cold pressing in from every direction.
Kieran’s the only heat source in the entire room, and my scanning keeps drifting to him like a compass needle finding north, which is incredibly unhelpful when I’m trying to concentrate on texts about ancient maritime routes.
“This is pointless.” He shoves another book across the table, where it joins the growing pile of rejects. “We’ve been through half the maritime section and found nothing useful.”
“We’ve been through approximately thirty-seven percent of the maritime section.” I don’t look up from the page I’m scanning. “And we’ve found several useful pieces of information. The current patterns around the island. The magical wards extending into the water. The?—”
“None of them tell us where your brother is.”
I bite down on my lip, forcing myself to keep reading so I don’t snap at him.
Page 247. Maritime Protection Protocols. Section 12: Emergency Procedures.
“I’m close.” My finger traces the faded text.
“You’ve said that three times in the last hour.”
“It’s been true three times in the last hour.” I flip to the next page. “Each text builds on the previous one. The current patterns connect to the ward structures, which connect to the emergency protocols, which?—”
“Which connect to more texts that connect to more texts and more texts.” Kieran pushes back from the table, his chair scraping against the stone floor. “It’s nearly four in the morning. You haven’t slept in over twenty hours.”
“I’m not tired.”
“You’ve read the same page three times in the last ten minutes.”
He’s not wrong. My eyes have been blurring over the text, the words swimming together until I have to blink them back into focus. But sleep is irrelevant when Oliver’s out there somewhere, possibly hurt, possibly trapped, possibly…
Stop. Focus on the text.
“Emergency Procedures,” I read aloud, partly to drown out my own spiraling thoughts, the other part to prove I’m awake. “In the event of a catastrophic breach of island defenses, the following evacuation protocols shall be enacted...”
Kieran paces behind me. He moves like a caged animal when he’s frustrated, restless energy with nowhere to go. The rhythm is distracting, but I’ve learned to tune it out over the past few hours.
“Evacuation routes are detailed in Appendix C,” I continue, scanning ahead. “Primary route: the portals in the common rooms of each dormitory, after the Headmaster or Headmistressactivates them. Secondary route: maritime passage to the designated safe harbor.”
I stop and read the line again.
