The scent of winter frost and charged ozone preceded Blair’s mana. It coiled around me on the floor, not like a snake, but like vines of frozen, thorny iron, each barb a pinprick of cold against my skin. She circled me, her steps silent on the stone, the rustle of her silk robes the only sound. She was a patient predator, and the ghost of my first death—the one I had already lived and failed—flickered at the edges of my mind. A tremor racked my body, a primal scream of instinct I wrestled into submission. Do not use your mana. Not a single spark. I clung to that command as if it were a prayer. I had to let her play her game. She wouldn’t kill me. Not yet.

Her finger, adorned with a ring of obsidian, flicked upwards. The iron vines of her mana tightened, lifting me from the floor as if I were a doll. I hung there, suspended and utterly powerless, while her magic slithered over me in a repulsive caress. She closed the distance, her face a mask of predatory curiosity, and her voice was a venomous purr that scraped against my nerves.

“Tell me,” she commanded, “how you freed the elf. A creature of your… limitations… should not have possessed such a key.”

I forced my head to shake, manufacturing a stammer. “I… I don’t know what you mean. The chains… they were old. They just broke when I touched the lock.”

The vise around my ribs constricted, forcing a pained grunt from my lips. “Oh, Thalia,” she hissed, the purr vanishing, replaced by the sharp edge of a razor. “Do not play the fool with me. Those shackles were forged with spells to contain powerful mages. They do not simply ‘break.’ Now, for the last time, how did you do it?” The pressure intensified with her final words, stealing the air from my lungs in a sharp, painful burst.

It was a struggle to form words. “He… he told me… to say something,” I choked out, the lie tasting like ash. “In his tongue.”

“Who?” The word was a whip crack in the silent room.

“The elf. He whispered the words. He said they were ancient. The chains… they glowed, and then they just… shattered.”

She fell silent, her calculating gaze boring into me. The tendrils of black mana that had caged my body retreated, only to re-form, weaving themselves into a tight, cold collar around my throat. It didn’t tighten—not yet—but the threat was absolute.

“Thalia, Thalia, Thalia,” she sighed, a sound of profound, theatrical disappointment. “Always so determined to be useless.” She lifted me higher until my toes dangled inches from the floor. She’s testing me, the thought screamed in my mind. She wants to see me break. She wants to see a flicker of my own power. I had to hold on, even as black spots danced at the edge of my vision. A desperate plea echoed through me, a silent message to the man I knew was just beyond the door: Please, Cassius, stay away. Don’t you dare come in here.

Blair glided closer, running a long, black-lacquered nail along my jawline before gripping my chin with bruising force. She wrenched my head to face hers. The mana around my neck pulsed with a dark, malicious energy and finally it began to tighten. My breath hitched into a desperate, silent gasp.

“I could end you,” she whispered, her eyes alight with the thrill of the hunt. “A fragile, mana-less little bird. But I know you did more than parrot a few elven words. And since you refuse to be helpful…” She shoved my face away with contempt. “What a waste of breath you are.”

She raised me higher still. The mana sealed my throat completely. No air. No sound. Just the frantic, muffled drumming of my own heart in my ears. “No one would care if you died,” she sneered, her voice a distant echo. “Not a soul would mourn you. Your father might even have a celebration.”

My vision tunneled into a pinpoint of wavering light. Just a little longer. He needs you to hold on a little longer.

Then, with shocking abruptness, she released me.

The mana vanished. I plummeted to the floor, a boneless heap of limbs, my body convulsing as I dragged raw, agonizing breaths into my burning lungs. I lay sprawled on the cold stone, the world spinning, Blair’s shadow looming over me.

“I suppose I’ll keep you,” she said, her voice dripping with disdain. She turned, her silks whispering a farewell. At the door, she paused and offered a mock salute without looking back. “Until next time, Thalia. Do try to be more interesting.” Her final words were a chilling promise. “And know that I am always watching.”

The door clicked shut, plunging the room into a heavy silence.

My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat a painful tremor. Before I could even attempt to move, the door opened again, this time silently. A presence knelt beside me, and warm, strong hands enveloped me, lifting me from the ground as if I weighed nothing. My head found a resting place against the solid wall of Cassius’s chest.

I looked up. His eyes, usually so steady, were turbulent with a storm of sorrow and fury. “I’m sorry, Thalia,” he murmured, his voice raw. “Any longer and I would have taken the door off its hinges. That was a foolish gamble.”

He paused, his grip tightening for a second. “Your core flickered, Thalia. Just once. A single spark. If it had happened again, I would have burned this palace to the ground.”

He carried me to the bed and laid me down with an almost reverent gentleness. As my vision cleared and my breathing evened, he sat on the edge, his gaze a tangible weight of concern. “You’re covered in bruises.”

“I’ll be fine, Cassius,” I rasped, the words scratching my throat. “It was a test. I don’t know how much she knows, but she suspects.”

“I hate this,” he said, his voice low and tight. “Seeing you like this.”

“I am not weak, Cassius, and you know it,” I insisted, pushing myself to sit up. Every muscle screamed in protest. “Blair is powerful. If she truly wanted me dead, I would be. She enjoys the hunt far too much.”

I laid a hand on his arm, forcing strength into my voice. “The world ends if we fail. There is no turning back.”

“I know,” he conceded, but his gaze drifted, lost in a place I couldn’t follow.

“She won’t be back soon,” I pressed, needing him here with me, focused. “She is too occupied with my father. It gives us the time we need. We leave for Aelindoria at dawn. We can’t lose our nerve now.”

“I agree,” he said, his focus returning, his voice earnest. “But you must be more careful. I will be with you, every step. We will find the elven people.”

I placed my hand over his. The unspoken promise to cure his curse hung in the air between us, a fragile, beautiful thing. I pulled my hand back.

He shook his head, a sad smile touching his lips. “We’ll keep that as a dream for now. Our priority is finding your people. I know they will rally to your cause.”

“How can you be so certain?” I asked, searching his face.

A flicker of something unreadable, ancient and deep, passed through his eyes. “They will,” he said, his voice quiet but with a conviction as solid as the earth itself. “You must trust me on this.”

“Alright,” I murmured, my bruised body sinking into the pillows. “I need to rest. First light.”

“Rest well,” he replied softly. He stood, gave me one last, lingering look of concern, and then slipped out, leaving me to the silence.

Sleep was a distant shore I couldn’t reach. My thoughts churned, replaying Blair’s threats and Cassius’s promise. We had to find the elves and cure his curse. We had to succeed.

There was no other choice.