Chapter 35Midnight Bargains
The tunnels beneath the academy smelled of damp stone and something older—something that curled in the back of Evan's throat like the memory of a scream. His poisoned arm hung useless at his side, the venom's dark tendrils now visible beneath his skin, pulsing in time with his heartbeat. Every step sent fresh waves of agony through his body, but he forced himself forward, following Selene's silver-lit form through the labyrinthine passages.
Aria moved like a shadow ahead of them, her knives drawn, her usual smirk replaced by a grim line. Rowan brought up the rear, his massive frame nearly filling the narrow corridor, his hands clenched into fists. None of them spoke of Isolde. None of them dared.
The vision still burned behind Evan's eyes—Selene on that throne of thorns, the academy in ruins, himself kneeling at her feet. And Lucian, bowing to her like a servant. It made no sense. None of it did.
Selene stopped abruptly, pressing a hand to the tunnel wall. The silver in her eyes flickered, casting eerie light over the ancient bricks. "Here."
Evan frowned. The wall looked no different from the rest—same moss-covered stone, same faint carvings worn smooth by time. But when Selene pressed her palm against a particular spot, the bricks shivered.
A hidden door swung inward with a groan.
The chamber beyond was small, circular, and utterly empty save for a single object at its center: a mirror. Not like the one from the garden—this one was massive, floor-to-ceiling, its frame carved with intricate runes that made Evan's head ache just to look at.
Aria let out a low whistle. "You've got to be kidding me."
Rowan's voice was a deep rumble. "This is a bad idea."
Selene didn't argue. She stepped forward, her reflection warping as she approached the glass. "Lucian!" Her voice cracked like a whip. "Show yourself."
For a long moment, nothing happened. Then the mirror's surface rippled, like a stone dropped into still water. The reflection of the room distorted, twisted, and then—
Lucian stood before them, his silver-streaked hair perfectly arranged, his smile sharp enough to draw blood. He looked exactly as Evan remembered, down to the way he held himself—like a king tolerating uninvited guests.
"Little sister," he purred. "And company. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Evan stepped forward before Selene could respond. "You know why we're here."
Lucian's gaze slid to him, and for the first time, something like genuine interest flickered in those cold eyes. "Ah. The stormcaller lives. How... unexpected." He tilted his head. "Though not for long, by the look of you."
The venom chose that moment to send a fresh spike of pain through Evan's nerves. He gritted his teeth, refusing to show weakness. "The poison. You know how to stop it."
"Of course I do." Lucian examined his nails. "The question is: why would I?"
Selene's dagger was at the mirror's surface in an instant, the point hovering just shy of touching. "Because if he dies, the oathbond breaks. And you know what happens then."
A flicker of annoyance crossed Lucian's face. "Sentiment doesn't suit you, sister." But he sighed, waving a hand. "Very well. The poison is a living thing—a fragment of the Vessel's essence. It can't be cured. Only... redirected."
Rowan's massive arms crossed over his chest. "Meaning?"
"Meaning someone else must take it." Lucian's smile turned predatory. "A willing vessel. A sacrifice."
The word hung in the air like a death sentence.
Aria broke the silence with a harsh laugh. "Yeah, no. Next idea."
Lucian shrugged. "There is no 'next idea.' This is the only way." His gaze locked onto Evan's. "Unless you'd prefer to die screaming?"
Evan didn't flinch. "What do you get out of this?"
"Entertainment, mostly." But Lucian's eyes gleamed with something darker. "And a... favor. To be called upon later."
Selene snarled. "Never."
Evan ignored her. "Done."
The word seemed to echo, as if the room itself had taken notice. Lucian's smile widened. "Excellent." He stepped back from the mirror's surface. "Then by all means—come in."
The mirror's surface shimmered. The glass became liquid, rippling invitingly.
Rowan grabbed Evan's shoulder. "You can't be serious."
Evan turned to Selene. Her face was pale, her lips pressed into a thin line. She knew as well as he did—they were out of options.
"I'll do it," Aria said suddenly. She sheathed her knives with finality. "I'll take the poison."
Evan shook his head. "No."
"Don't be an idiot," she snapped. "You're the one with the magic bond. The prophecy or whatever. I'm just—"
"Family," Evan finished. He touched her shoulder briefly. "Which is why I can't let you."
Before anyone could argue further, he stepped toward the mirror.
Selene moved to stop him, but Lucian's voice froze her in place. "Ah-ah, sister. You know the rules. Only the dying may pass."
Evan met Selene's gaze one last time. He saw the fear there, the anger, the unspoken words between them. Then he turned away and stepped through the glass.
The world dissolved.