Night had crept in by the time I found myself wandering alone through the rubble-strewn streets of the second floor’s ruined city.

  My mind circled with questions.

  How did the magebloods get in? Did the spy move faster because of me? Is everyone okay? Of course not . . . but is everyone alive?

  ‘Calm down, you’re spiraling again,’ Fern said calmly.

  I took a deep breath and dug my fingernail into the side of my thumb. He was right. But I couldn’t help getting frustrated. So far, every known route that could’ve led us back down to the first floor—and eventually the academy—was sealed shut by some spell none of us could break. Even Major Philip, in his full Grootslang form, couldn’t punch through.

  The tension back at the camp was stifling. Miners huddled in small circles, wondering if the town of Ash was okay. Laska paced around the plaza, and Waelid kept saying we should bust a hole through the pillar wall and climb down. Major Philip then showed him how that was impossible no matter how much strength you had. We couldn’t go down the Mouth either. The water from the canals made it impossible to climb down that way.

  It has to be because of the spy, I thought for the hundredth time. Damn it, why couldn’t we have taken him out in the archives?

  I clenched my fists at the memory of Al and Bartholomew going missing, and the blood-smeared beetle crawling into camp afterward.

  When I asked if Al and Bartholomew could defeat a mageblood at a level-three blood infusion, he said, “We are trained to fight brutally with our blood infusions, but a trained royal mageblood is stronger. If we want to take them down, we need to have either progressed to a higher level or get smart. Start thinking.”

  Needing space to do that, I left camp behind and wandered down a deserted avenue. Buildings rose on either side like dark skeletons. My gaze drifted to the faded murals painted across crumbling walls—images of the same girl with raven-black hair and a regal stance. Even in the chipped paint, she continued to remind me of Luna.

  As I moved deeper into the silent streets, I spotted another statue depicting her: tall, elegant, holding a scepter in one hand and a book in the other. The eyes of the statue were chipped away, leaving only hollow pits that felt like they were staring back at me. The question continued to gnaw at me: Who is she, really?

  A faint melancholic melody drifted through the night air just then, pulling me from my thoughts. My ears perked up—I recognized those notes. The last time I’d heard that same tune was weeks ago when Waelid and the major shrugged it off. Before then, I heard it on the first floor during the trial. Quickly, I walked toward the sound.

  Fern . . . you hear that? I thought.

  ‘Yeah, I do. It’s him!’

  I wound my way through canals and alleyways, the music growing clearer with each step. A low, mournful string tune reverberated off cracked walls and arches, coaxing me onward. Whenever I paused, the song pulsed just ahead, almost as if it were deliberately drawing me in.

  Before long, I stumbled into a small hidden courtyard. A bench was pressed up against the side of a building, and two small pots were on the other side of the clearing, creating a warped amphitheater of sorts. At the far end of it all stood a quaint, two-story house built right in the wall between the backs of the surrounding buildings. The windows glowed a ghostly white, and I realized that the courtyard was packed with figures—spectral shapes standing still around in hushed silence, listening.

  They were ghosts. Scores of them. I stiffened, a cold prickle racing down my spine. But they seemed oddly peaceful, swaying slightly to the music drifting from the open doorway. Whatever melody was playing soothed them, like they were a captive audience in some afterlife concert hall.

  This is weird . . . I thought, forcing my breath to stay calm. I skirted around the edges of the courtyard, keeping my distance from the spirits, and slipped into the small house’s foyer.

  Inside, I found an empty old living room. The only pieces of furniture in the room were a small firepit and an extremely large, bathtub-sized metal pot. A figure I recognized sat in the center, calmly strumming a three-stringed instrument.

  Dog.

  He had no shirt . . . again . . . and wore only a loincloth. His long white-and-black hair draped down his back as he played for the dead. The ghosts were gathered around him, in awe as if he were a master performer.

  He finished the last haunting chord, and the ghosts silently applauded by bobbing their heads and clapping translucent hands. Then, one by one, they drifted away through the walls, disappearing like a wispy tide receding into the night.

  I stepped forward, clearing my throat. “Dog,” I began. “I—”

  A sudden crack on my shins shut me up. Dog had whacked me with a long, gnarled walking stick.

  “You idiot pup,” he huffed. “Took you long enough to follow my music.”

  I winced, rubbing my leg. “Hey, that’s no way to greet someone.”

  “Consider it your own fault,” he said, eyes narrowing. “I’ve been playing for days, waiting for you to come find me. Then, only when your whole school is going up in flames, you finally show up.” He scoffed. “You’re lucky you didn’t get your soul sucked away by the sword. Good thing Fern called me.”

  “Fern called you?”

  ‘I didn’t . . . ?’

  “Oh, yes you did, boy,” Dog said as if he heard Fern in my mind. “You called me either consciously or subconsciously. This is what happens when you dabble in the art of spiritualization. You start doing things you never intended.”

  I recalled the cryptic letter I’d received weeks ago asking me to meet him regarding the cursed sword. I’d dismissed it in all the chaos . . . apparently to Dog’s great annoyance. “Right, the letter,” I muttered. “Things got busy, okay?”

  “Busy nearly getting yourself killed.” He tapped his foot, glaring. “Now, I suppose you want some grand explanation for the sword?”

  I crossed my arms. “I mean the sword is gone out of my hands. I should be good now, right?”

  Dog sighed and shook his head. “You boys really know how to ruin the fun. This is why I should never have given a twin soul any sort of help. I didn’t even get a chance to turn you into an old man!” He huffed and slapped his hands on the ground. A puff of dust flew up and irritated my eye.

  “Excuse me? Turn me into a what?” I said in a panicked voice.

  “Your sword was cursed with a high-pitched resonance—a slicing note that could shear through nearly any defense. A lethal weapon, indeed. But . . . it also siphons off your life source. Even now in the short time you used it, your current body has aged two years.”

  Fern stirred restlessly inside me.

  ‘My body what?’

  “Oh, don’t worry, boy, you’re skipping the worst of the puberty years! No one likes the growing aches and body changes at this time of your life anyways,” Dog said.

  I couldn’t argue with Dog; puberty sucked. Voice changing and raging hormones? No, thank you. I was not wanting to experience them again. However, I could tell Fern was upset. His body and his life were taken from him more and more as he stayed inside me.

  “So, you said he called you?” I asked.

  “Precisely! I was here on the second floor already playing my songs when I heard him call out for help. Anyone! Please! Help! He shouted so much I had to put down my instrument, apologize to my specter spectators, and go and get the blade and bring it to him. By taking the blade into his own spirit, he removed the curse and took it into his soul. Clever creature.” Dog tapped his nose, then eyed me.

  I must have looked dumbfounded, because he tilted his head.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  “Oh, don’t tell me you’re confused. Must I explain everything?”

  I nodded my head. “Uh, yes, what do you mean you just decided to go do a spirit walk and deliver a sword to the boy trapped inside my mind? What the hell are you talking about? Is that magic or what?”

  Dog laughed and I was getting impatient.

  I let out a frustrated sigh. “Why do I even bother? Every time I think I’ll get a straight answer from you, you tell me to do more homework. And what is with you appearing all the time randomly? Are you doing this on purpose? Who is pulling the strings? What are the rules of this whole damn thing?!”

  “Welcome to this world’s mysteries, pup,” Dog said dryly. “You’re not the only piece on the board.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Just who are you? Were you one of the ones who brought me here?”

  Dog’s grin spread wider. “Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. The question is: Does it really matter? And another question is: Why did you follow? You aren’t supposed to be here,” he said quietly and more intimidatingly than I had ever heard him speak.

  I froze. A cold sweat flushed over me. It was that voice . . . the one I heard when I came here. I stuttered to speak and then Dog laughed . . . again.

  “Bah! You should see your face, boy. Did I do a good impression of that old grouch? Aye, I saw you step into the portal, but let’s just say I’m not with that crowd that you met before they rearranged you and sent you off into good little Fern’s body.”

  Before I could argue, he jabbed his stick toward a dusty portrait resting against the far wall. The image showed a regal woman with jet-black hair. “Your next question, pup, should be: How does she fit in?”

  I stepped closer to the painting. The woman looked exactly like Luna, down to the graceful arch of her brow. My heart thumped. “You know who that is?”

  “Of course I do,” Dog chuckled. “And so do you. She is—”

  A soft sound drew my attention to the shadowy corner of the room. Emerging from the gloom was a tall, slender figure, at least fifteen feet tall, half woman and half fox, with nine swishing tails. My breath caught in my throat. It was the fox-woman who left the note for me telling me to leave the academy. The one I met before we went up to the second floor. Her fur gleamed white under the dim lantern light.

  Without breaking eye contact, she changed shape, shrinking until she stood as a human girl with black hair and bright orange eyes. Luna. My friend.

  “Erik,” she said softly. “It’s time I’m honest with you. And it’s time you listen to me. You keep messing up my plans.”

  My mouth stayed open long enough for flies to build generational homes in.

  “I am Queen Lunafreya of Dust,” she said, her voice surprisingly gentle. “But I’ve borne many names, across many lifetimes. You might call me Freya, Gumiho, or simply . . . Luna.”

  I felt my heart thudding in my chest. “Luna! Wha-what the hell? You . . . you . . . you!” I stuttered, unsure how to respond. “We fought together, we laughed together, and you JUST gave me a whole speech about being honest. What the hell? And the murals I’ve seen all over these ruins? You . . . you existed centuries ago?”

  Luna laughed and covered her mouth with her hands. She gave a short nod. “I did. And I have, repeatedly. I ruled Dust as its queen in the past. I was a savior of her people, who were fleeing from a conquest of mages below on the surface. I came here without powers and without my curse. When I had my first life’s death, I discovered the Gumiho’s true curse: a cycle of rebirth and repetition. Nine times. Nine times to do everything right.

  “Every time I died, I’d wake up in my infancy, memories intact, forced to relive events from birth to death. It’s happened eight times now, each spanning hundreds of years.” Her voice hitched. “So yes, I’ve lived over three millennia, and for hundreds of years each lifetime. This is my ninth and final life.”

  I stared in disbelief. “Final . . . Does that mean if you die this time, you don’t come back?”

  “That’s correct,” she said quietly. “The Gumiho gift—if you can call it that—grants nine lives. This is my last chance to change the fate I’ve been trying to change every lifetime.”

  “Fate,” I repeated under my breath. My eyes flicked to Dog, whose expression was unreadable.

  Is he in on this too? I wondered.

  Luna stepped forward. Although before I always saw her as a teen, now, she looked aged and exhausted. She raised her hand and pointed her finger at me.

  “The difference in this final lifetime is you. You weren’t here before, in any of my previous cycles. When I discovered your existence—something or someone rewriting the threads of time—it changed everything.” Her gaze locked on mine. “I prayed it might be the key to saving this world.”

  “From what?” I managed, though I already suspected the answer.

  She exhaled slowly. “From Starbringer. Your brother.”

  My stomach dropped. “You . . . you know Noah? Where is he?”

  Her eyes tightened with sorrow. “In every life I’ve lived, he appears eventually. And every time, he’s the one who ushers in an end to everything, destroying the thirteen pillars around Mourne. When they collapse, chaos follows. The threads of magic unravel, and the world plunges into ruin.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t believe Noah would do that. I just have to get to him. If I can just talk to him—”

  She cut me off. “He kills me in every timeline. Every death, Erik, is on his hands. I have tried, Erik. Tried reasoning with him in one life, tried subduing him, tried appealing to his humanity.” Her lips pressed thin. “Always the same result: Whatever twin soul inherited your brother’s body, it has mastery over Noah’s soul. The twin soul inside him becomes unstoppable and snuffs out my life—along with countless others.”

  “So it’s confirmed, his twin soul has taken over?” I Iowered my head. “And you still don’t know who that soul is? Maybe if we can—”

  She cut me off again. “I’ve TRIED, Erik. I’ve tried it all. In this last life, everything was looking worse. I was out of options. But then, I saw you. A new . . . variable. You are either the key to helping me stop this apocalypse, or I die knowing the world will soon follow.

  A tremor rippled through my limbs. I thought back to the memory of the car crash.

  Was the other soul truly entering him then? I thought.

  Dog cleared his throat, clearly enjoying my stunned reaction. “Some men just want to see the world crumble.”

  I shot him a glare. “You’re not helping. You know who the other soul is, don’t you?”

  Dog nodded his head. “Sure do!”

  Luna snapped her head toward him. “What. Do. You. Mean. Yes?”

  “You never asked.”

  “I did ask. I asked five lifetimes in a row!” She clenched her fists and her body transformed again into her nine-tailed fox form. “Why do you play games, jester?!”

  Dog beamed a grin. “I won’t say who, of course.” He kept smiling.

  It was my turn now to yell at him. “Why? You truly are no help at all. Why even hang around here?” I clenched my fists.

  Dog shook his head. “Kids these days are so rude. They are from the Kingdom Above,” he said, pointing upward. “But I can’t say who. To do so would summon them here, can’t have that here, no, no, no.”

  I let out an annoyed sigh. Then I looked over at Luna. “I don’t have to be a genius to know what you want to do but . . . I can’t just let you kill my brother. There has to be another way.”

  She sighed. “That’s the problem. In every life, I’ve concluded there is none. Once a twin soul tastes real power, they—”

  “Stop,” I said, squaring my shoulders. “I’ve already merged with Fern. It hasn’t turned me evil. Maybe Noah can be saved if I try to talk him out. Give me a chance. We have to go down to the academy anyway. Something has happened.”

  Luna crossed her arms. “If you fail, he’ll kill you like he’s killed me eight times. And he’ll bring destruction to everyone else.”

  “I’ll take that risk,” I said firmly. “I can’t just surrender him to your blade. He’s my family.”

  For a moment, she regarded me with anger.

  “You may be a new variable, but I will not uproot my cause for you. There is no way you can take down Noah Starbringer. No Cinder has done it before. I have lived thousands of years, Erik. You do not know as I know.”

  “Trust me, I’m empathetic to your life. That sucks, thousands of years? Losing loved ones and friends over and over? That is awful. But I will not let you kill Noah without me trying to save him first.” I stood my ground and stared into her fox face.

  Moments passed, and sweat dripped down my neck.

  Finally, she nodded. “Very well. I’ll give you a chance to save him if you can. But know this, Erik: If you falter, or if I see an opening, I will end him myself. I have to, for the greater good.”

  I swallowed down a knot of fear. “Agreed.”

  Dog clapped once, a smug grin on his face. “Ah, the sweet tang of an alliance born out of desperation. Glorious!”

  Luna gave him a side-eye. “Don’t push it.” Then she turned to me again. “As for how the magebloods reached the academy . . . Someone smuggled pillardust out of the tower’s protected zones. The magebloods used it to create cloaks that shield them from the barrier. I discovered traces in the archives, but by then, it was too late.”

  “Any idea who the traitor might be?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “No. I was too busy searching for a way to destroy the twin soul bond permanently. In the past . . . this event doesn’t happen for a few more years. I hate to say this, but . . . your snooping may have caused the spy to jump the gun. You may have caused deaths to the students down there.”

  I felt my stomach twist and then shook my head. No, I couldn’t think like that. That would distract me. I did what I thought was best. I didn’t have foresight, I hadn’t relived this life multiple times, I only had my gut.

  “I did what I thought was right.” A prickling sense of urgency skittered along my spine. My friends, my teachers—they could already be facing Noah’s wrath, or . . . the wrath of whoever controlled him. “I will save them.”

  “Them too?” Lunafreya said with disbelief. “You’ll save your brother, the country’s strongest mage, from his twin soul; you’ll save your classmates and teachers from said mage’s wrath; and who else? Will you try to save them all?”

  “Shut up! Damn, I didn’t realize you became an asshole with more age.”

  I saw Luna’s eye twitch at that comment.

  “I will save them. Everyone who can be saved,” I said, stepping forward, fists clenched. Luna looked at me, and then a smile appeared on her lips.

  “Good, now I know you’re a good guy. I will head down before you and help out House Anu. We’ve been holding out for now, but there are magebloods keeping us locked in the dorm. Hurry.”

  Dog tapped a single note on his three-stringed instrument. A shimmering light flickered across the far wall, unveiling a door where none had existed. “This will open up to the outside. You’ll be able to climb down to your friends,” he said. “I suggest you hurry.”

  “What about you, you lazy geezer?” Luna asked with her hands on her hips.

  Dog laughed. “You should know by now, not once in all your lifetimes have I gotten involved directly. Boys, we will meet again.” He stood up, picked up the giant pot, and walked out the door, hardly making a sound.

  I took a deep breath in, steeling myself. “I can . . . I can save them all,” I said with not as much confidence as I had hoped.

  The door creaked open, a swirl of cool wind rushing through. Luna gave me one last, solemn look. “Then this is goodbye for now, Erik. If your plan fails, know that I’ll do what must be done.”

  I nodded curtly, stepping away toward the entrance to the room. “I understand.”

  Luna hopped out the door into the outside air and disappeared.

  I walked outside and pulled out a small tube. A green flare that Major Philip had given me in case we found something. I raised it toward the sky and pulled the string below it. It was time everyone left the second floor and we took back the academy.