[**]
Something felt wrong.
Hileya couldn't name it. The morning air carried no unusual scent. The forge stood quiet behind them, its fire banked low while Laren was at the market. Duren stood across from her in backyard, his stance relaxed, one hand resting on the practice blade at his hip.
Everything was as it should be.
And yet.
The thought surfaced unbidden, the way it often did when the bond between them stirred. She had learned to recognize the difference between her own worry and the faint echoes that traveled through the contract. This felt like the latter, but deeper. A pressure behind her ribs. A wrongness she couldn't place.
"You're distracted."
Duren's voice pulled her back. He hadn't moved, but his eyes had sharpened.
"Forgive me." She adjusted her grip on the practice dagger. "I am ready."
He studied her for a moment longer, then nodded. "We'll start with the second form. Remember what I told you—"
The forge door slammed open.
Laren stumbled into the yard, chest heaving, face drained of color. He looked like he had run the entire way from the market square.
"The arena," he gasped. "There's been an attack. A portal opened in the middle of the tournament. Something came through. The whole district is in chaos."
The wrongness in her chest crystallized into ice.
"I've never seen them move this fast." Laren braced himself against the doorframe, still catching his breath. "All three factions. Guards everywhere. They locked down the whole district before I could get close."
Duren's eyes narrowed. "They're already there?"
"Shoulder to shoulder. Kingdom, church, guild. Whatever's happening, it's bad."
Master.
Hileya set the practice dagger on the rack and turned toward the gate.
"Wait." Duren's voice stopped her.
She turned back.
He crossed to the outdoor workbench and retrieved something wrapped in oiled cloth. When he pulled the covering aside, steel caught the light.
Master's dagger. Reforged.
The blade was longer now, curved slightly, weighted for both cutting and throwing. The edge gleamed with the care of someone who understood that a weapon was more than metal.
Hileya accepted it with both hands, feeling the balance. Heavier than what she was used to. She reached for the strap on her thigh, but the blade no longer fit.
"Wear your weapon proudly like your ally. No more hiding. Let it be seen."
She fastened the strap across her waist, the sheathed dagger resting horizontal against her lower back, handle angled to one side for easy draw. It felt different there. More serious.
"Thank you."
Duren nodded once.
Hileya met his eyes briefly, then turned and ran.
A moment passed. Laren glanced at Duren.
"You're not going with her?"
Duren shook his head. "It's no longer my duty." His eyes stayed on the gate where she had disappeared. "Besides, if the guild's already there, things will turn out fine."
---
The streets had already begun to unravel.
People spilled from shops and homes, clustering in groups, voices rising over one another. Hileya moved through them without slowing. She caught fragments as she passed.
"—portal, right in the city—"
"—saw the barrier go up from the rooftops—"
"—my son was in the stands, he was watching the finals—"
"—cultists, they're saying it was cultists—"
She didn't stop to listen. Each word only confirmed what the bond had already told her.
Wait for me, Master.
The main avenue leading to the arena came into view. Guards had already formed a perimeter across the street, pikes lowered, voices raised against the growing crowd. She spotted kingdom colors, church vestments, guild insignia among them. All three factions working together.
Hileya pushed closer, weaving between bodies until she reached the front of the crowd.
A man was arguing with the nearest guard, his face red with frustration. "My daughter is in there! She went to watch the finals with her friends!"
"Sir, step back." The guard's voice was flat, rehearsed. "No one is permitted past this point."
"You don't understand—"
"I understand perfectly." The guard raised his pike slightly. "Everyone here has someone inside. The answer is still no."
Another voice from the crowd. "At least tell us what's happening!"
"We don't know," a church guard called back. "A barrier went up. That's all we've been told. Now step back and let us do our work."
Hileya didn't wait to hear more. She slipped back through the crowd and turned down a side street.
There are other ways.
Weeks of gathering information for Master had taught her routes that ordinary people never learned. The supply alley behind the storage row. Carts used it to make deliveries without clogging the main streets. She knew the path well.
The alley mouth appeared between two shuttered shops. She quickened her pace.
Two guards stood at the entrance, arms crossed.
"Alley's closed," the first one said before she could speak.
"I need to pass through. I work for—"
"Doesn't matter who you work for." He didn't even look at her properly. Just another servant girl trying to get somewhere she shouldn't. "Turn around."
She tried the younger one. "Please, my master—"
"Miss, even the delivery carts got turned away." He shrugged. "Captain's orders. Whole district's locked down."
Hileya stepped back without argument. Pushing would only draw attention.
They were thorough.
She scanned the nearby buildings. One route remained.
The Crossed Hammers tavern stood three buildings down. Its upper floors connected to the neighboring rooftops through a maze of balconies and maintenance walkways. Cleaners used them. Fixers too.
She pushed through the tavern door.
The common room was half-empty, the other half was outside chasing the news. The remaining patrons clustered near the windows, murmuring about the commotion. She ignored them and moved toward the stairs, her posture straight, her steps unhurried.
The guests assumed she worked here. The owner, if he noticed at all, would assume she was meeting someone upstairs. Either way, she was invisible.
The upper hallway was quiet. She found the balcony door at the far end, unlatched it, and stepped outside.
From there, she moved quickly. Balcony to ledge, ledge to rooftop, rooftop to the next balcony. The path unfolded ahead of her, each handhold and foothold where she expected them to be.
The final building overlooked a narrow alley pressed against the Academy's south wall. Storage houses lined one side, their doors shut, their windows dark. She crouched at the balcony's edge, scanning the drop below.
Clear.
She gripped the railing, ready to swing herself over.
Then voices drifted up from below.
"Who are you?! Stay away!"
Hileya froze. She knew that voice.
Below, three figures stood with their backs to the wall. Kein. The prince. Lysithea. Two others blocked their path toward the Academy grounds.
"Apologies." A man's voice, yet his cadence ran too soft to match. A coiled whip hung at his hip. "No need to raise your weapon. We only want your friend there."
"Savok, you're too soft." The woman beside him rested twin swords loose in her grip. "Look at them. The little lord can barely hold his sword straight."
"This is your last warning."
"Kids." Savok shook his head. "They never listen. But no worry. A good whipping always turns them into good children."
The crack split the air. Kein's blade came up, but the tip grazed his fingers before he could fully block. He winced but held his ground.
"Hand over the prince." Savok's tone shifted, almost bored now. "We have no quarrel with the rest of you. Walk away before Azren messes with your innards."
"You expect me to believe that?"
Azren laughed. "Believe what you like. We'll take him either way. The only question is how many pieces we leave you in."
She moved. Lysithea thrust her hands forward, wind coiling into a barrier between them.
Two swords. Two swings. The barrier shattered like it was never there.
"Why do you need the prince?" Kein stepped back, sword still raised. "Who do you work for?"
"Hand him over and I'll tell you." The whip cracked again. A fresh wound opened across Kein's arm.
"Cross Flash!"
Two arcs of light shot toward Savok. His whip answered twice. The slashes dissolved before they reached him.
Too fast. Hileya couldn't even follow it. They were outmatched.
"Academy students..." Savok clicked his tongue. "I hate grunt work. We should be in there. On the main stage."
"It's always about performance with you." Azren rolled her shoulders. "Real work gets done in real fights. Finish this unless you want to face the boss's wrath."
"Fine."
They moved in unison.
They're going to die.
Hileya's hand found the throwing knives strapped to her thigh. Her other hand rose, fingers tracing the pattern Master had shown her only days ago.
"Casting feels too slow for close combat," she had told him then.
But right now, she wasn't fighting. She was creating an opening.
The pattern took shape. Cold gathered in her palm.
She released the spell.
A dark cloud exploded between the two groups, swallowing light and shadow alike. In the same motion, she threw.
A sharp ring of metal. Deflected.
Savok's whip snapped twice in rapid succession, the motion carving the cloud apart faster than it could settle. By the time the air cleared, Kein's group was gone. Not a moment of hesitation.
Hileya pressed herself flat against the balcony wall.
Don't look. Don't move. Don't breathe.
Even without seeing, she felt it. A dangerous weight lifting toward her, two sets of eyes searching the balcony's edge.
"What?!" Savok's voice cracked. "Who dares—someone else is here!"
"Forget them." Azren's voice dripped venom. "The prince is getting away."
They gave chase.
Footsteps thundered through the alley below. Two sets. Neither slowed.
Then silence.
She exhaled slowly and stepped back from the wall. Her hands were shaking, but not from the spell.
They got away.
She swung over the railing and dropped into the alley, landing in a crouch.
She didn't know if the assassins would catch them. But as long as they reached the main street in time, the guards would help them.
Master needs me.
She turned toward the Academy wall and ran.
---
The storage alley opened onto the Academy's southern grounds.
From here, the path became familiar. All she needed to do was avoid eyes and move toward the arena.
She broke into a run.
The tunnel entrance appeared ahead. Guards stood at the threshold, pikes crossed to bar the way. Academy colors. Not cultists.
Beyond them, a wall of dark magic sealed the passage. The surface rippled like black water held vertical.
"Halt." The first guard raised a hand. "This area is restricted."
Hileya stopped. "My master is inside."
The guard's expression didn't shift. "Then you'll have to wait for him out here."
"Please. I need to—"
"Miss." The second guard cut her off, not unkind but final. "Whatever's happening in there, we can't get through either. No one can. The higher-ups are working to bring it down. All we can do now is wait."
Hileya stared past them at the barrier. No sound reached her from beyond. No light. Nothing at all.
She reached for the bond.
Master. Are you there?
No answer. No warmth. Only dread.
Her hands curled into fists at her sides.
She couldn't enter. Couldn't help. Couldn't do anything except wait.
So she waited.
