I crouched behind Waelid, peering through the gap in the heavy double doors, watching Lotrick pace.

  Fern was overjoyed to see him. I couldn’t say the same—not with my brother floating above our professors, binding them in glowing chains. Noah looked . . . emotionless. Cold. With a villainous, neatly trimmed beard.

  Above the hundred-plus professors, he examined the alchemic design on the floor beneath them.

  “That’s a sacrificial spell,” I whispered.

  “I’ll say,” Luna murmured.

  “How do you know that?” Tevin asked.

  “Call it a hunch. It looks obvious.”

  “So . . . what do we do?” Jako asked, half annoyed, half nervous.

  “Wait. I need to think. Unless you have any ideas?” I asked the group.

  Silence.

  Lotrick stood near Noah, scribbling in a notebook. He wore the same polished gold-and-white robes as the other magebloods but had a silver pin on his chest. He kept glancing between Noah, the captives, and his notes.

  Why would he side with the magelord? He knows we’re here. Did he betray us?

  ‘Never. Look at him—he’s uneasy. He’s probably worried about me.’

  Beyond the professors, barrels of pillardust lined the walls. Large double doors were in the middle of each wall of the square room—four possible escapes.

  The room pulsed with an ominous energy. The sheer power radiating from Noah and the others pressed against my body. These magebloods were on a completely different level.

  But the trapped teachers held my focus. And the demonic-looking circle beneath them.

  Laska and Major Philip lost. I could hear the others’ thoughts now: What hope did we have?

  I swallowed the doubt. I had to be an example. I glanced at my team. They were watching me. Waiting for a plan. Remember the trial. You did that, Erik. Remember the infusion. You did that too.

  I started believing.

  Pacing near the professors, the man in black robes twirled his staff. Seven golden pendants clanked around his neck. He looked bored. His stubble told me he had not been shaving the last few days.

  Across from him stood the elven mageblood, about Lotrick’s age. An elf plucked right out of the games I played as a kid. Blond hair, a snarky grin. Her gold-and-white robe covered her hands.

  Clever girl. Hiding her weak spots.

  Waelid crouched at my side, eyes starting to glow red. He was tapping into the infusion. Mel, Sora, and Tevin hovered close, weapons ready. Galina’s face was locked on Noah. Jiho, Piqah, and Jako crouched beside her. Luna crouched next to me. I could see her hands shaking. I wasn’t sure if it was from nerves or anger.

  “Hold,” I whispered. “I’m thinking.”

  “Better hurry,” Waelid growled. “They’re waiting to be slaughtered.”

  Across the room, a familiar voice rose.

  Hopsander.

  Our guide. Our teacher. My confidant.

  On his knees, wrists bound in thin golden strings, the frog-man glared daggers at Noah.

  “You call this a fair fight? An unannounced assault? A betrayal of the Cinder contract? Do you want another Day of Divide? The magebloods have no honor!”

  Noah didn’t reply, just floated over the glowing runes.

  The elf girl laughed. Lightning crackled beneath her robes and lashed across Hopsander’s skin. He cried out, arms and face blistering. Noah didn’t so much as blink.

  My blood chilled. The professors were pinned, lambs to the slaughter. The runes beneath them started to shine.

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  “Erik!” Waelid hissed. “Think of something . . . now! Or I’m going in.”

  Hopsander groaned, pushing himself upright.

  “Too weak to reply?” he sneered at Noah. “Can’t even be a proper villain and give us a reason before you kill us?”

  “Erik.” Luna’s whisper barely reached my ears. “Decide now.”

  I looked back at her, and her orange eyes had turned into almost-glowing golden mist.. I nodded, jaw clenched. “Give me a second.”

  Think!

  Sora’s hands clenched her sling. “They’re stronger than the ones outside . . . and only you two handled those. What can we do?”

  Tevin huffed. “That’s what I’m thinking. The magelord isn’t a joke. Should we just run?”

  “Abandoning everyone isn’t an option,” I said, trying to convince myself as much as them.

  But how . . .

  I focused on Noah. His eyes . . . Something about them seemed off.

  I glanced at the golden strings binding the teachers. At the pillardust barrels and at the glowing runes.

  Every second that passed sealed the professors’ fate further. My heartbeat thundered.

  Lotrick murmured something to Noah, pointing at Major Philip and Laska as they struggled upright. Noah nodded. The golden chains tightened.

  Mel gripped her axe. “Erik . . .”

  I pored over every detail. A weak spot. A way to free Hopsander. To break the circle . . . But we were a handful of students against four seasoned magebloods. One of them the damn magelord of the whole country.

  Hopsander spat at Noah. And everyone in the room stopped breathing.

  “The next generation of Cinders will burn you out. We will NEVER give up.”

  A hush fell. Noah hesitated, then lifted a hand as if to speak—or to cast.

  The black-robed man lowered his head in a half bow.

  “You may start the ritual, my lord,” he said. “The two new additions should be enough.”

  The cavern held a tense, waiting silence.

  Waelid crouched lower. Our moment to strike was close.

  I need a miracle.

  Noah flicked his gaze to Hopsander. “You speak of the next generation,” he said, voice deep. “You realize there won’t be one if I deem it so?”

  Hopsander spat again.

  The elf girl crackled with energy, sending arcs of lightning skittering over the floor. The black-robed man gripped his staff tighter. Lotrick pocketed his notebook, watching it all.

  Noah inhaled, lifting his chin. “I suppose I should reward your curiosity with an explanation.” He cast a bored glance at the captive professors. “We’ve gone through so much trouble gathering you all, after all.”

  Professor Gallon, her vivid blue hair askew, spoke up. “This won’t work! Even if you kill us, the barrier—”

  “And the Cinders,” Noah interrupted, “are scattered across the globe on heroic missions. It’ll be months before they return.” He smirked. “Did you think it was coincidence? The monarchy has threads in your leadership, keeping your numbers thin at the pillar. And now, here you are. Helpless.”

  Hopsander let out a bitter laugh. “You talk like you’ve already won.”

  “Have I not?” Noah gestured to the glowing circle with an air of disgusting pride. “Soon, five thousand of my elite mages will be inside the pillar. For a teleportation of this scale, we needed an ample life force. Normally, we’d just snatch a few voidbloods off the street. An orphan, a useless old man. But for this? We needed more.”

  He let the name hang. “Twinges—” He smirked. “Or should I say, Xavier Mourncrest—was instrumental in smuggling enough pillardust to pierce the barrier. His invention of these robes made crossing effortless. Now all that’s left is a stable jump circle, fueled by you.”

  Murmurs of alarm swept through the professors.

  My stomach twisted. Twinges . . . you bastard. We’d killed him, but the damage was done.

  “What do you mean, fueled by us?” Professor Gallon demanded.

  Noah smiled. “Ah. The villainous monologue. Quite fun, really.” His gaze flicked to Hopsander. “It’s simple, Professor. Your blood. Teleportation magic of this scale demands sacrifices, especially from seasoned Cinders. Your life force will sustain a portal. It’s really amazing stuff. You know I invented it, right? Teleportation magic. Ah, why would you know? Your soft brains can’t comprehend what I’m explaining.”

  His smile faded, voice cold.

  “You will serve as the final spark for this era of the academy.” His gaze swept the room. “The voidbloods’ reign over the Thirteenth Pillar is over.”

  Hearing him admit so casually to slaughtering the staff for teleportation made me want to tear him apart, but I forced myself to stay still. I glanced at Waelid—his fury could melt steel. Behind us, Sora and Mel gripped their weapons, white-knuckled. I just needed one more piece of the plan.

  Hopsander roared, “You vile hypocrites! You butcher innocents like cattle, all because ninety-nine percent of the land isn’t enough for you?!”

  Noah arched a brow. “Hypocrite? We see voidbloods for what they are: a means to an end. Mercenaries to die in our wars. Batteries for transportation. Hands for labor we don’t waste source on. Slaves, until your kind no longer exists.” He waved dismissively. “Don’t worry, your demise will be quick. Mostly.”

  My composure frayed. The black-robed man watched Noah preach, the elf girl chuckled, and Lotrick stood off to the side, unreadable. Did he feel remorse?

  Waelid seethed beside me. “Enough waiting, Erik! We do this now.” Feathers sprouted along his arms.

  My pulse pounded.

  Come on! Give me a miracle, fate! We can’t just charge in blindly. We would die!

  As if the universe heard me, I saw Hopsander straining at his bindings, eyes burning with fury. Hope filled me for a moment, but then it faded.

  Noah laughed softly. “A shame your Cinders won’t even get to fight. They’ll return to an academy in ashes. A voidblood can never stand against a mageblood.”

  My fists clenched.

  Enough thinking. This would end now.

  My miracle wasn’t coming. We had to risk it. I exchanged a final look with Waelid. Fern whispered his readiness. The chimera stirred within me, and I felt my arms begin to change.

  At the center of the room, Hopsander tensed, staring Noah down as he raised his hands.

  “Now, be good and die,” Noah said.

  Then Hopsander grew.

  My eyes widened.

  You have to be shitting me.

  A slow grin spread across my face.

  “Wait!” I turned to my group, mid-transformation. Waelid froze beside me. “Listen fast—we just got our miracle. I have a plan.”